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Summary
All the pent up, lust-charged energy from the evening had IV’s hands shaking as he fumbled with the lock on the front door to their flat. It was hard enough to see the thing in the dark, and the way his vision kept frustratingly blurring in and out of focus certainly wasn’t helping.
Okay, sure. Maybe he’d had too many drinks, but at least he wasn’t as bad off as III was. He’d had to practically carry the man out of the pub, lanky arm draped over his shoulder and a near-dead weight hanging at his side. Not unlike how he was now, warm body clinging to IV’s arm and even hotter mouth nipping at the back of his neck.