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“Can I kiss you?”
Squinting turquoise stares blearily at the shadow propped up beside him.
“. . . What?”
The shadow’s head tips forward, white locks swaying in the darkness, brushing along the pillows.
“ Can I kiss you? ”
Tighnari’s brow knits together in confusion. His husband, asking to kiss him at- what time is it? He offers a second of silence as he takes in a deep breath, cheek squished against the pillow as he sighs.
“Sure?”
The General shifts on the bed, leaning down to him. Tighnari turns his head upward just enough to let Cyno give him a quick smooch. Tighnari’s cheek immediately returns to the pillow, eyes closing once more.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles, legs shifting under the covers. Their legs, once intertwined for warmth, had broken away from each other in their unconscious shifting. Cold areas of sheets left untouched by warm bodies prick at the skin, his lower half curling upward to get away from the chill. Arms clutch a pillow closer to his chest. He hears Cyno shifting back under the covers, pulling the blanket further up Tighnari’s body.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Mm.”
A slide of fabric beside him, then warm fingertips brush back the deep green veil from Tighnari’s face. A palm cups the side of his head.
“Can I kiss you again?” the General asks. A puff of air from Tighnari’s nose, but it hardly involved annoyance. He simply finds Cyno rather cute— a description only Tighnari would ever associate with the intimidating man.
“Mhm.” A lazy consent, except when Cyno leans in, he has to tilt Tighnari’s head himself. Another shot of warmth washes over their hearts. Cyno gently leans his forehead against the other’s temple.
“Nari,” he whispers.
“Hm?”
“I want to kiss you again.”
Cyno feels long eyelashes tickle his cheekbone. A hand reaches from beneath him and snakes its way between them, cupping Cyno’s cheek as Tighnari raises his head and gives him a slow kiss. This time, when Tighnari pulls away, he doesn’t bury himself in his pillow.
“What’s gotten into you, Cyno? It’s late, but all you want is affection. How am I supposed to get any sleep like this?” he jokes, voice lilting. Cyno acknowledges his interruption by pressing into Tighnari’s hand.
“Sorry. I just really wanted to kiss you.” A pause, Tighnari can feel Cyno hold his breath. “Nari-”
“Go ahead.”
Lips brush together. Cyno’s free hand tucks under Tighnari’s torso, reaching all the way around so that his fingers hold his waist. He twists to lay his back flat against the bed while Cyno shifts above him. Through the dark, the fennec can see two dim sunsets peering down at him. His thumb lovingly brushes under one of them, feeling the ends of white lashes and the slight and unseen imperfections of sun-worn skin that Tighnari had gently massaged with oil. He can already see what they are asking of him. Seriously, his General can be so silly.
“You know, you don’t have to keep asking. It’s just us here.” The skin under his hand warms, causing Tighnari to smile. Cyno presses a kiss to his palm, silvery bangs tickling the back of his hand.
“I know.” Lips slowly trail down a thin wrist, nothing but adoration left behind on rosy flesh. It continues up the bare arm, distance growing between each one as they eagerly skip up to Tighnari’s collarbone, barely hidden by his nightshirt. A hand caresses Cyno’s head, letting him do as he wishes, even tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes once again. There is no biting, no wetness, as some nights may inspire. Only the lingering warmth of quick confessions.
Tighnari nearly falls asleep to those little pecks traveling up his neck. Being showered by Cyno’s affection isn’t rare by any means, but to be suddenly loved in such a lazy atmosphere is certainly a treat. One he did not mind being woken up for.
Cyno shifts above him, gently taking Tighnari’s knee and moving it aside, opening a space between his legs. Tighnari peeks an eye open as Cyno slots himself between them, but rather than making any moves, he simply lays down on the fox’s chest, wrapping tanned arms around his torso. The bridge of Cyno’s nose nuzzles into the crook of his neck, and Tighnari can feel their chests press together as they breathe in tandem.
Tighnari tugs the slipping blanket back over them, and the curious eye closes peacefully, returning the hug around Cyno’s shoulders as a sleepy hand runs through sleek locks.
The moon begins to descend from zenith, moonlight flowing down the ville. It streams between the large leaves curtaining the window, illuminating two sleeping figures wrapped in each other’s arms.