Oh, god, [Riley repeats, quickly losing breath.] I guess you -- have a... [He groans. He was already getting close when Ferran decided to do this, and he's already thrusting into him faster despite himself.] F... Fe -- Ferr... oh, god.
[Zetta's eyes slide shut under Deacon's attention, and she leans back against the wall to give him better access. She slowly traces her hands up his chest, up his neck, along his jaw. After a moment, she leans forward again, aiming to kiss just under his eyes.]
[Riley makes a helpless noise and presses his face into Ferran's neck to muffle any further ones as he starts to come. His arms wrap around Ferran's waist, holding him tight as starbursts flash in his eyes.
Zetta kisses the bridge of Deacon's nose next, lingering and unmasked sweetness.] Hi, [she answers, nudging her forehead against his.
[... ugh, she loves him so fucking much she can't breathe for a second. She ducks in to kiss him briefly, taking his bottom lip between her teeth gently for a second.]
Yeah. Yeah, we are.
[... she's not going to be able to do it. Jesus fucking christ. She can't tell him how much he means to her and why. Goddammit. Getting up the courage to do it is more difficult than gathering the balls to sneak past a deathclaw.]
[Ferran wraps his arms around Riley's head and gently holds him. He still has flashes where he can't believe he's so lucky as to have him back and it makes him want to not let go.
Deacon smooths his thumb over Zetta's lips and his smile turns faintly knowing. Then a furrow gathers between his eyebrows.]
Okay, I totally didn't plan this last part well because now my feet are falling asleep.
[Zetta kisses his thumb gently, but she can feel heat starting to rise to her cheeks when he fucking looks at her like that.
But, thankfully, he says that, and that gives her an out.] Alright. [She shifts to uncurl her legs from around him and get her feet up under her. Once she's standing, she reaches down to offer to help him up.] Pretty sure we'd freeze if we stayed here much longer anyway.
[She glances over in time to see Riley nuzzling into Ferran with a soft sigh. Her expression softens.]
Lucky for us, Ferran and Riley have kept the bed nice and toasty for us.
[He waits for her to move towards the pile of blankets first, thinking that Riley might be less spooked by Deacon's naked ass heading towards him if Zetta's in front and going to get their first.]
I suppose that's more accurate. [She gets herself up under the blankets and settles close to them. Riley kisses her cheek, and her temple, and her hair. She huffs a quiet laugh and reaches for Deacon.]
[Zetta grins. In this moment, this incredibly brief moment, everything feels so fucking domestic, it feels homey. And right now, she doesn't want to rail against it. She wants to cradle it against her chest and never let it go.
She kisses the end of his nose.] Likewise, darling. [A beat.] Your shades are up by my pack. [For when he wants them again.]
[He thinks about it a moment, whether he really wants to get up out of this cozy space to get them or not.]
I'm good.
[And he really is. If he were uneasy or insecure he'd go for the shades no matter how comfortable the bed or cold the air. But the sunglasses are there and he's here and for the moment at least, he's okay with that.]
[He gives a snarky grumble about what he has to look forward to tomorrow and cuddles closer. Now that he's warming up, he's feeling sleepy and relaxed.]
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[Zetta's eyes slide shut under Deacon's attention, and she leans back against the wall to give him better access. She slowly traces her hands up his chest, up his neck, along his jaw. After a moment, she leans forward again, aiming to kiss just under his eyes.]
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Deacon closes his eyes and drinks in the feel of Zetta's lips on the vulnerable skin around his eyes, his chest still heaving from exertion.]
Hi.
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Zetta kisses the bridge of Deacon's nose next, lingering and unmasked sweetness.] Hi, [she answers, nudging her forehead against his.
She wonders if she can try to tell him now.
...
... no. Not yet.]
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We're pretty good at that.
[Because, god, that was amazing.]
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Yeah. Yeah, we are.
[... she's not going to be able to do it. Jesus fucking christ. She can't tell him how much he means to her and why. Goddammit. Getting up the courage to do it is more difficult than gathering the balls to sneak past a deathclaw.]
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Deacon smooths his thumb over Zetta's lips and his smile turns faintly knowing. Then a furrow gathers between his eyebrows.]
Okay, I totally didn't plan this last part well because now my feet are falling asleep.
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But, thankfully, he says that, and that gives her an out.] Alright. [She shifts to uncurl her legs from around him and get her feet up under her. Once she's standing, she reaches down to offer to help him up.] Pretty sure we'd freeze if we stayed here much longer anyway.
[She glances over in time to see Riley nuzzling into Ferran with a soft sigh. Her expression softens.]
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[He waits for her to move towards the pile of blankets first, thinking that Riley might be less spooked by Deacon's naked ass heading towards him if Zetta's in front and going to get their first.]
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Alright, Ferran, budge up. You have to share. [Says the woman who dragged Deacon away to the wall purely so she could temporarily hoard him.]
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I prefer to think of it as adding you to my collection.
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I suppose that's more accurate. [She gets herself up under the blankets and settles close to them. Riley kisses her cheek, and her temple, and her hair. She huffs a quiet laugh and reaches for Deacon.]
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So, yeah. Happy Valentine's Day.
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She kisses the end of his nose.] Likewise, darling. [A beat.] Your shades are up by my pack. [For when he wants them again.]
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[He thinks about it a moment, whether he really wants to get up out of this cozy space to get them or not.]
I'm good.
[And he really is. If he were uneasy or insecure he'd go for the shades no matter how comfortable the bed or cold the air. But the sunglasses are there and he's here and for the moment at least, he's okay with that.]
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Alright. We should probably try to get some rest if we're going to be dealing with a passive aggressive feud tomorrow.
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[He gives a snarky grumble about what he has to look forward to tomorrow and cuddles closer. Now that he's warming up, he's feeling sleepy and relaxed.]