Bedtime

Nothing in particular was happening during this bus break until Fafnir came into Sinclair's room in their night clothing.

Before Sinclair could even say anything, they were already climbing onto the bed.

They signed, and immediately hid under the sheets. Sinclair couldn't even protest - He wasn't opposed. In fact, it was something he wanted to encourage them to do more often. He didn't want to admit something like that out loud, though.

Time passes, and he starts wondering about the relationship between them. Something to dwell on as he tries to keep himself grounded. Nightmares usually await him at late hours, but this time...

Already, a blush forms on his face. Fafnir's body turns to him, their usual neutral expression gaizing into his soul. He doesn't look back just yet.

Sinclair swears that they were already passed out, but where he tries to correct himself, Fafnir's body comes closer and closer.

Until they're basically intertwined together.

Hearing Fafnir speak was always a pleasure, and Sinclair wishes, so badly, that their throat wouldn't act up. But that mere greenlight was enough to make his heart race, his mind flutter.

Their embarassments were combined, resulting in an almost awkward yet intimate embrace. Sinclair is careful to hold the back of their head, chuckling to himself. The spikes could cut him and he wouldn't care at all.

With such a position, their bodies will surely ache in the morning. For now, they remain like this. Fafnir closes their eyes in peace.