𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 •𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗒•

His thumbs reverently trace the gentle curve of his lover’s cheekbones, skin catching against short stubble. His blue eyes overflowed with warm as he gazed adoringly down at him, leaning forward to press his lips against the man’s brow. “Alright… Let’s get you some tea…”

His hands reach up to cup the other man’s face, eyes drifting open to look back at him. To drink him in. “We’ll get you some. Just… give me another second to look at you….”

“There’s water left in the kettle…” The sniper murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against his lover’s. “Should still be warm…”

(Without shame or reservation, he goes to him, putting his arms around him and pressing a long and lingering kiss against his lips.)

Every day.

Moran rubbed his hands over his thighs, then pushed himself up to his feet. “I’ll go have a look around, shall I?”

Moran threw the blankets aside and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, dressed only in a pair of tight fitting boxer briefs. “You checked in with the dirty laundry, yet?”

“Couldn’t tell you...” Moran replied evenly, they certainly weren’t his shoeboxes. The man only had about three pairs himself. “D’you need help?”

And Moran is watching him dreamily from their bed, still undressed beneath the covers. “Looking for something in particular, darlin’?”

Unfortunately for him. Very fortunately for Sebastian, who is always happy to see the grumpy little fucker.