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Gesi traced the tip of his finger over the deep purple tattoo that decorated Papalymo's neck.
The lalafell was fast asleep and it was the dead of night, dark.
The only light that shined was emanating from Gesi's bedside table; a flickering candle. It was faint but, up close, the flame glowed brilliantly against the lalafell's bared face and it shadowed Gesi, who was rested on his side, head propped up with his hand as he affectionately touched Papalymo's cheek.
Their window was cracked open and the curtains gently swayed as a polite breeze met the fabric. Crickets chirped and the occasional frog croaked some distance away. Tree leaves could be heard brushing against each other and the natural earthy smell of various flowers and grass wafted into the bedroom.
Gesi had thought to close the window before bed but against Papalymo's wishes, "'Twas warmer than usual today, dear, let the cool air in," he decided against it. Being born in Thavnair, the viera hardly even noticed the warm weather. He had grown up in it.
"Ąžuolas...?" A yawning voice broke Gesi, Ąžuolas, from his thoughts—Papalymo had woken up while the viera was shortly musing; and his hand was still tenderly resting against the older man's pale cheek.
"'Lymo. Hi, baby..." Guilt was present in Gesi's voice.
"What are you doing up? Haven't you slept yet?" Papalymo asked. His tone was gentle despite the scrunched and tired look on his face.
"No, not yet," Gesi's thumb brushed soothingly underneath his husband's eye, "I was doing some light reading."
"Oh? Some light reading, hm? I wasn't aware you picked up the hobby." Papalymo yawned and shifted closer to Gesi, pressing his cheek into the large hand that held his face; a teasing smile graced his features. "Where exactly is this book of yours?"
"...Back on the shelf?"
"Mhmm. You were staring at me again, weren't you?"
"Yes..." More guilt... But Gesi almost snickered, he always got caught.
With a dismissive sigh and a short chuckle that soothed Gesi's heart, Papalymo took hold of Gesi's hand and squeezed it. Turning it over, he pressed his small lips to Gesi's knuckles, chastely kissing over each bone with love. "What am I to do with you, my sweet Ąžuolas?"
Gesi almost melted. The softness of Papalymo's lips against his hardened knuckles, the way the lalafell said his name; he would never tire of hearing it, it sounded just right coming from the blonde man.
"You could tuck me in. Kiss me to sleep?"