sinbound. [Akira & Earinor] [ENG]

"If we have no other choice, yes. But ... your idea isn't stupid. We should probably pack something and prepare to run off if we must - but where to? The wolves land or would you like to go to the south instead? Though, I don't think you'd feel well there - it's said to be scorching hot and a snowy winter seems to be more rare than a warm summer in Fhaergus. As for our meetup, the hut is not a good idea. My father knows it exists and judging by the amount of times I've went there, simply to free my mind of things, I doubt he wouldn't hunt for us there. Is there anything in Fhaergus we could use instead?" Now, that meant he'd have to scale a mountain or three and then make it down safely on the other side. Naturally, none of that was easy, but maybe if he kept up his training, nothing of it would be a hard task any longer. "Look, I want to agree to some of them and note that down, simply because it's not only benefical for the requestee but also us, however, my father likes to shut all of them down and he won't accept another opinion. That is Darragh of Alster for you." His father was a vile beast without so much as a glimpse of hope left in his own eyes. "Then I'll show you something later, sounds good?"

"Not telling you!" Now, they were acting like little kids and Ronans biggest secret was something like, there was a mouse in his room that he affectionately named Mousse and fed a slice of cheese every night before bed, but ... being a wolf was nothing compared to owning a mouse, was it now? Caelan couldn't know, not now at least. "It's not that I want some but rather that your subjects will demand you have an heir, whatever you want one or not. We could just adopt one, though ... or maybe find out if the thrians actually know dark magic like everyone's claiming." If that were true, maybe it would suffice to change up that pesky body of his, just so that they both could be who they needed to be for their little charade to work. "So you'll get your own?", he asked, already out of the tub and as soon as he figure out that he could let go, he let Caelan do what he needed to do, just to look less like a wet dog. "If you are sure, I'll leave you to it." Then, he started drying off himself and still cursed that long hair of his - Caelan had it easier. "What ... would you think about me, cutting off my hair?", he asked, suddenly. "After the masquerade." It would look and feel odd, probably, but he had had enough of his hair and the shenanigans that came with it, as well as the fact that he had enough with all of this. "Leave them where they are", he said, putting own some of his own clothes. "The servants will come and grab them", he said. Now, he needed a change of clothes. "I'll bring you to your room and then I'll change and eat some breakfast. Do you want me to bring you a book to staff off your boredom?"

"We can look for a middleground somewhere, maybe beyond the sea - do we know what's out there? Maybe we should just leave Adrestia or even Gaia and look for something, somewhere where nobody has ever heard our names!", he suddenly proposed, planning a grand adventure into lands unknown. Ronan was sure that he, of all people, was the last one to get onto a boat and sail off into nowhere, but it was worth a thought, right? To be happy, somewhere out there, and not stuck in this hell any longer, it almost felt like a dream that was about to come true. "Depends. Wolves are good at keeping most of their secrets, after all, we barely know anything about them except that they might as well be savages. But who can say that? Not us, only them." Now, he was slandering his own folk, but it was for good measurement only. He couldn't let Caelan believe that he felt content around them, but he also knew that - if his actual father would whisk him away - he would barely mind it, except maybe for the fact that he loved Caelan a bit too much. "I wouldn't say I get lost all that easily. Sometimes I struggle, but it's nothing big and it only lasts for a few seconds, most of the time." Or, he would have to come up with a back up plan, whatever that would entail, he didn't know. "I want to see what the people of Alster yearn for. And my father wants me to do something, anything." Darragh wanted to torture him, that was about everything this was supposed to be - to get him to obey and stop questioning things. "You aren't, so don't worry." Caelan was there for him and he'd be there for Caelan, no questions asked. Sacrifices had to be made and therefore, all of this would be much easier if they just gave in and decided what to do, once they had enough strength to run for their lives. "I hate to, but sometimes I must disappoint." Not that he'd never disappointed Caelan before, it actually felt like something fairly common and yet, he didn't want to make this a thing, he didn't want to keep disappointing him.

"Who said a demon baby? I'm merely suggesting that, if you were to look for a wife, I'm sure dark magic could just fix my body in that regard. Well, fix might be the wrong word. I'm not saying the wolves need to summon us a hellspawn to raise." This was getting out of hand, was it not? What would they even do with a kid of their own? Not that they ever could have one, at least not together, but having dreams was something that proved to be nice. "Again, I'm not going anywhere." Was this the truth or was it a lie? Ronan didn't know and he didn't want to answer that, not even by himself. Truthfully, he was just trying to get it together and not show Caelan how much of a mess he was, at least not all the goddamn time. "It will grow back, but I'm just taking things into consideration. Even if you like it, maybe it's time for some change ... though, I don't want to disgruntle you", he joked. Now, he could live with shorter hair, especially if he tired it up, but where would that lead him to anyway? The last time he'd seriously cut off some of his hair was ages ago and he doubted that it would feel all that nice. "We'll see when I get an opportunity." Or he'd just chop them off by himself instead of cutting open himself and trying to throw himself off of something, somewhere. Ronan was a disaster and unfortunately, Caelan had been saddled with him and he already felt sorry about it, so damn sorry, it seemingly hurt him and his ego quite a bit. "Then I'll let you sleep, you deserved it anyway." Lending Caelan a helping hand, he led the blonde back to his room, made sure he lied down comfortably and then, they parted ways for now - Ronan got out of his clothes, slipped into something more comfortable and went for some food, coming back to Caelans room ages later, slowly making his way over to the desk. If Caelan was still asleep, he could work on some documents, no?

Leaving Caelan behind wasn't his first choice, but he had to show his family that, yes, indeed, he was still alive and he also had to tell them that no, he hadn't been caught up in Caelans shenanigans - alongside that, he very much was hungry and, as soon as he could, sought out something to eat. Naturally, that meant he had to sit at a table, too large for comfort, and stare at those who remained - which was, thankfully, only his mother. His father seemingly had better things to do and Declan was, without doubt, the first one that got up and did whatever he had done before being forced to come down for breakfast. Was his mother sideeyeing him, questioning what he was doing, or was this all just in his head? Ronan didn't know, but he sat there in silence and was happy about having changed into different clothes before coming downstairs, just to give his mother and their servants the impression that he, for once, actually cared. About what? Well, seemingly not starving, even if that meant he had to bite back a yelp - Caelan had been right, he was overdoing it, but there was no chance that he'd sit idly by and let his body rot, just like his mind had up until now. "Is everything alright?", a voice rang through, as he lost himself in his bowl of soup. "I couldn't be better", he said and his mother silently accepte it - they really didn't have to talk about anything, not here and not now.

Once his bowl was as empty as his stomach, he found his way back upstairs, entering the room he and his boyfriend where - at this point - very much sharing, only to silently slump down on the chair and decide that, while Caelan was asleep, he might as well tend to those paper stacks on that desk, and thus he did. Ronan knew he'd stain his fingers with ink, knew he'd make his wrists hurt and knew that he'd eventually wake Caelan, but for now, there was no need for concern - he sat there and wrote, denied so many of them and sometimes, eagerly even, approved those he liked, even though he knew that his father would tear the request to shreds once he saw it. Then, as if on cue, something was stirring in the bed, some steps away from the desk - and Ronan waited for a noise, for something, anything, as he barely was able to pry his eyes from the documents. "I'll get inkstains on you, your clothes and your bedding", he answered, hearing the creaking of both mattress and bedframe as Caelan shifted - as he was reminded that this bed was probably uncomfortable and old, which he knew it wasn't. "Don't you just want to hug me and keep me from working?", he asked, finally able to tear his gaze away and look at the blonde, his probably still somewhat damp hair, standing on edge, unkempt, much like the rest of Caelan. "What do I get if I do come over?"

"And how exactly am I supposed to work without any ink?", he inquires, knowing that Caelan would simply not care about anything he told him. Ronan was, albeit understanding of the problem, also on the fence. For one, he felt sorry about what he had done to the blonde, felt sorry about hurting him and ruining that lovely face of his, but on the other, it sounded odd enough for him to just answer to the blondes whims. Was there even a chance for him, a single one, to escape those words, those requests and figure something out for himself? "That's easier said than done, you know?", he said, sighing and finally grabbing a stack of those annoying papers. If this had been up to him, if all of it had been up to him, he'd just find a way - any way, to escape from those shackles that he found himself wearing, but he had already spoken about it all. Ronan knew that there was no escape without Caelan and he knew that an escape with Caelan was going to ruin them both, sooner than later. "Don't be like that, I'm just asking because you woke up without much of a reason to - are you in pain or just tired of sleeping?" Now, he didn't expect a definite answer, he didn't expect to know or hear, but ... he could try, right?

"I'd ... rather not do any more work, but I haven't done any in forever - I don't want to disappoint anyone, I don't want to piss him off, but ... I do think I could take a break and use some of that distraction", he sighed, got up from where he was and dragged those papers with him, clutching them tightly in his hand. He knew that, whatever had been the truth, he neither wanted to disappoint Darragh or Caelan, but right now, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. "Fine, I'll take care of you - I'm sorry to have neglected you, now that you're this sick." Ronan sat down on the edge of the bed and yet, despite wanting to put those papers on the nightstand, he didn't, instead, he dragged them all the way into the bed as he lay down next to Caelan and poured over the handwriting, trying to distinguish some of the words. "I have, but I wasn't all that hungry to begin with", he simply explained, focusing on the paper in his hand instead of his boyfriend - wasn't that rude? At least Caelan was warm and he edged closer to him, cuddling up to him ever so slightly. "You're talking so much already, I think I can take you downstairs tomorrow - if you don't faint while walking down some flight of stairs. Can you manage that?" Now, he folded the left upper edge of the paper in his hand, putting it aside - he could also mark them like this, no?

"Bringing some documents with me is easier said than done, but a lot of things are easier said than done, whereas there are some that are easier done than said", Ronan sighed. One particular example of it being opposite from the usual would be, well, being who he was - he couldn't just blurt out that he was gay to everyone, but very much could act the part and make it Caelan of Fhaergus' problem, much to his annoyance. "Not messing up the order they were in, not getting any unintentional folds into the damn paper, the whole nine yards about having to take care of them and treat them like they actually mean shit to you. It's not like my father won't rip them up and toss them out." There had been nothing but simmering animosity between him and his father anyway, for months or years at that and in all honesty, it seemed like two children, throwing mud at one another behind their parents backs. The only difference was that Ronan was going to lose regardless of what he did, simply because Darragh would make him pay. "Your wife? Oh, I'm sorry - how could I forget to serve my husband." In all honesty, Ronan wouldn't mind having to pretend to be someone he wasn't for the rest of his life - not if that meant he could be with whom he loved, but the idea in and of itself was bound to fail. "If I smear ink all over you, I'll have to wash you again."

Now that he found himself in Caelans bed and the blonde cuddled up to him like that, it almost felt like a fever dream that - strangely enough - bore fruit and existed in a world, as real as this one. "I want one but taking one could be fatal." While it was fine for him to spend the night in this room with locked doors, when nobody bat an eyelash at it and the doctor had retreated to his own chambers, Ronan could doze off for as long as he wanted, but right now, even something like this would give a wicked mind a good idea of his actual relationship with the fellow lord. "You're still pretty warm for complaining to get cold", he chuckled, but let Caelan's warmth wash all over him. Based on the fact that Caelan had complained about pain not so long ago, not only did he seem pretty content like this, but also somewhat at peace, free of any of the eventual pain he probably had to suffer from just a few days prior. "You won't offend anyone and you better take your time to heal and not force yourself to do anything your body can't yet process", he chastised the blonde, folding another edge of one of the papers, just to put it aside. Was he really, truly, supposed to be able to work like this or was this a goddamn joke? "And what if my father asks you and won't back down? Do you think you can be polite to him? Do I have to live in fear of you, punching him in the face?"

"I don't want to crumple the damn paper or have to explain to my father why it's suddenly all tattered and worn when it came in looking perfectly fine - and you can't tell me you'd appreciate your requests looking like they'd been trampled, either." In Darraghs case, it didn't matter how it looked - he wasn't going to approve any of these requests either way, he was just looking for something, for a crease or something and he'd promptly punish him for not keeping his own documents in order. Ronan hated it, hated the constant nagging and the endless search for the smallest of mistakes, for the smudge of ink somewhere on a paper, for the slightest crease, for a missing dot in his own signature - Darragh was going to find it, as long as he was willing to waste his time searching for it. "Punish me, for doing the work that is expected of me? Caelan, you're ... well, I should be happy you'll let it slide this once then, no?", he chuckled. Not that he feared his boyfriend, or that he put much weight into those words, but in the end, who knew? Maybe, at some point, Caelan would truly mean it - but until then, who knew how or why they'd come up with something to annoy their significant other. "So you're telling me you enjoy being washed by me? Am I your humble servant or your boyfriend?", he asked, still joking ever so slightly.

Caelan brought out a whole other side in him - showed him who he could be if he wouldn't live that life of his driven by pain and fear, but for one reason or the other, he very much wondered what it meant to be a different person deep down low, or if he enjoyed being who he was. "It's not that - the door is locked either way - but you really don't have to throw a tantrum, trust me", Ronan sighed. Truthfully, no one wanted that and if he was terribly honest, it wouldn't make the situation they were in any better. As soon as there was a slight knock on the door, he'd get up, open the door and then waltz back to the desk, acting like none of this had ever transpired - as if he hadn't spent time in bed with his beloved and as if he'd been busy all along. "Warm, because of me? Are you sure it's me? My skin must be freezing", he retaliated, still pouring over that document of his and making another dent into one of the corners, putting it aside and doing the same with a few more, all while having Caelan so close to him - to his cold skin, warming him up all the way. Having his legs held felt odd, but he didn't necessarily care about it and just let the blonde do what felt right for him, even if a bit room to move would have been nice. "And you're sure you want that?" For some reason, Ronan had been expecting more - was Caelan not going to touch him and annoy him so much, he'd forget about his work entirely? Or maybe ... no, he was thinking too much about something so simple. "If you say so, I almost ought to believe you - and you're sure you can put up with him?"

"I don't want to blame you or some poor servant, though. Do you have any idea how he treats them? Do you want him to fully break your jaw?" Darragh worked most of them to the bone, except those few that only served his mother and that his father had no authority over to begin with. Blaming Caelan was on a whole different level of idiocy, namely because he had told the blonde how his father felt about him and he very much knew that, if Caelan didn't leave a favorable impression on the old brute, they'd be banned from doing as much as speaking a work to one another. Even if it would leave a good impression on everyone if Darragh would just treat Caelan like the guest he was, Ronan knew him better than anyone - and he knew that he had horrible temper, paired with the behavior of an absolute lunatic, or at least that was the impression that his old man had left on him in the last seventeen years. "If that's the case, what do you want me to do? There has to be something on your mind that you'd want from your boyfriend, no?" Didn't they rush things, dive headfirst into a relationship without even knowing a goddamn thing? "Or I'd order my servants to wash my dog, if I had any, that is. Well, but you wouldn't enjoy being a dog, would you?"

At this point, Ronan had hoped that Caelan would have yanked those damn papers out of his hand and demanded he'd stop working and actually take a break, but there was nothing - he was expecting too much of someone he'd hurt, injured and forced into bedrest and if anything, he was the one that should be taking care of the blonde and not the other way around. "Not feeling like I'm doing my best, or that I'm ... no, forget about it, this is going to loop itself. I just don't want to disappoint an old idiot that has stupid opinions", he sighed, knowing fully well that Caelan would get what he meant, one way or the other. "God, you're one romantic dork, did I ever tell you that?", the young noble giggled, already forgetting about the contents of the paper that he was already barely holding in those tired hands of his. "Though, I can't deny that having you close feels nice." Being without Caelan felt odd enough and maybe even hurt a bit, but why would he put that into words and confess it? There was no need to, it wasn't like they were never going to meet again and it most certainly wouldn't kill him to be without the blonde for a week or two ... well, it almost did last time, didn't it? "And I'm sure my mother will like you ... but, that's besides the point. Even if we aren't allowed to meet each other, we'll do it anyway, won't we? We are that stupid." Not, that he planned on breaking his neck for Caelan, but he'd at least try to, until it hurt like hell. A short shiver ran down his spine, even if the touch was simple and innocent, but he answered by ruffling through some of those blonde locks with his free hand. "I can't promise that - who knows what mood he's in." A slight sigh spilled from his lips, then he looked down upon Caelan. "Do you see that mountain of papers on the desk? That and whatever is in my hands and on the nightstand. It'll take forever. However, I really don't want to - my hands feel sore and my eyes hurt, soooo ... any chance I could get you to distract me? Please, Caelan?"

"And how do you know that? If he breaks my arm, why wouldn't he break your jaw?", Ronan answered - he would, especially if Caelan pissed him off at some point. Sure, they both had nothing more speaking for themselves than their own voices, but that wasn't something that should be heard, especially not by his father. "You don't know him, not as well as I do", Ronan mumbled, knowing fully well that Darragh was fucked up enough to consider doing something like that - and he didn't regret one bit, never. As long as his hunger was satiated, as long has he got what he wanted, this stubborn old man would find anything and everything amusing - as long as he had the upper hand, something he rarely did. "Just being here? And what then? You have my attention", the noble mused. Was Caelan content with what he had, content with letting his head rest on Ronans lap, or was there something more, something else he wanted but orgot to put into words, simply to tease him? "You sound like such a troublesome dog, I'll probably have to chain you up outside and let you bark at some of our unexpecting visitors." And then what? It wasn't like a dog like that wouldn't be worthy of love either, but ... it sounded like a pain. "You'll behave for me, right?", he asked, as if Caelan had any influence on his choices to begin with. "If I'm done, I'll have all the time in the world that you could possibly want. Hm, maybe I'll reward you for being patient - would you like that?", he chuckled, knowing fully well that they had shared a bunch of empty promises already, that he had promised rewards so often, it almost sounded stupid that he'd come up with another one.

"That's not what I meant, but alright then, if you want to play dumb, be my guest!" Generally speaking, this somehow meant that they were back at playing games and Ronan knew, for a fact, that they had never stopped playing those to begin with - and he was horrible at losing them, but he could do that, on Caelans behalf, no? "Do you think you can keep your hands to yourself if I sit on your lap? Hm?", he teased, knowing that they both would be insufferable. Caelan wouldn't be able to keep those hands of his to himself and Ronan, well, he would very much use the position he was in to tease the blonde and then not give him what he could possibly want, simply because he would be able to. "Very much so ... what are we even plotting?", Ronan laughed. This was going swimmingly - and they'd probably end up glued to one anothers side again in no time. Ironically, though, how long would they even be able to keep a relationship like this a secret from so many people? Someone would find out, sooner or later, and once they did, it would all be over for both of them ... a gruesome end, no? "A gentleman? Are you now? I never noticed!" Now he was just being mean, but he liked annoying the hell out of his boyfriend, as much as the blonde enjoyed doing the same to him on some occassions - it was, still, all fun and games between the two of them. "Thank you! I was hoping you'd tear those papers from my hand and I was starting to get disappointed when you didn't!" What even was their relationship? At this point, a mess of complicated feelings and their own stupidity, alongside ... what, exactly? A slight gasp left his throat as Caelan decided to move his face a bit further, as his fingers wandered over those legs of his and Ronan felt as if he should grasp those, or at least return the favor - which was why he slightly pulled on the blonde hair. "Surprise me, then."

"Fine, I get it, Caelan! Those are his concerns, not mine and I just wanted to warn you that maybe, just maybe, he'll hit you square in the face if you say something dumb, or do something stupid. I don't care whatever you do, I'm not here to hurt you - my father might be out to just mess with you in the most malicious way possible, just don't be surprised. And don't you dare try and break his arm, you're biting off more than you can chew, damnit", Ronan grumbled. Caelan wasn't wrong, both of their fathers had around equal might, but the thing was that - while Allard of Fhaergus was born into nobility - Darragh of Alster was probably a rat, feeding on crumbs that his beloved wife was tossing his way. Saoirse would do just fine without him, she hadn't even needed his ugly visage for an heir, had she now? "Reputation is important, but my father is also good at manipulation, in the simplest way." Whatever this old geezer wanted, he got, one way or the other and if that meant he had to try, he at least made an attempt, no matter how faulty it was. Surely, he would not enjoy being forced to look for his metals and weapons elsewhere, but he'd make do - and his mother would be the one, stuck trying to rekindle his relationship with her former business partners. "Oh shut up, I don't want to work anymore, you fool", he chuckled, knowing fully well that he was being a goddamn hypocrite right about now. "Good boy." Ronan ruffled through Caelans hair and couldn't help himself but grin. "You'll get whatever you want, as long as you tell me what it is." It didn't work that way, did it now? Generally speaking, the assumption that their fathers were to get along was a stupid one - his mother and Caelan's father however, they already seemed to have a relationship going between the two of them, something neither of the two could put a finger on, but an affair was unlikely. "Then use them, damnit, and stop teasing me with nothing but words."

Truly, this meant nothing more than him, allowing Caelan to commit whatever atrocity he could come up with. Ronan wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing, or if he could just try and find a hole in his very own statement to use it against his beloved. "Sounds like something worthwhile. How about we look or an abandoned hut somewhere in Fhaergus, then?", he chuckled. Naturally, it wouldn't be too hard to break into one without having anyone question it, but what if they were found out, then? Would they even have keys, or were they going to have to commission new keyholes an matching keys? What the hell was he even going on about? In the end, he could meet Caelan whenever or wherever he wanted, as long as he masked it as a diplomatic visit or something along those lines - not, that anyone could deny him those but his father. "Oh, I almost forgot, I'm so sorry", Ronan joked. "You know, taking a dip in that lake would be nice once it gets warmer." That would mean they had to crawl back to Lavern, though and also that he'd have to disappoint his father once more, even if he already did, regardless of his choices. "For once? Screw you, Caelan of Fhaergus! I'm working my ass off with this stupid paperwork and looking after you and THIS is the thanks I get?", Ronan was currently faking his anger - this wasn't going to tip him off, especially not if Caelan laughed about it and he only could snort in retaliation. "Come here, then." The blonde was being a tease, first pressing his face against his crotch and now his fingers, without any intention of actually moving either of them. Ronan rewarded him with a soft peck on the lips, knowing that Caelan couldn't really kiss back like he wanted to. "Would you like to infect your cheek and maybe have a chunk of flesh taken out of your face? If so, be my guest and suck it." Then he sighed, diverted his gaze from his papers for once and peered at the blonde, sticking out his tongue, before pulling his free hand out of Caelans hair, stroking over his uninjured cheek with the back of it. "What do you want? Am I not supposed to take care of you? I could put my mouth to use, or my hands."

"No need to be sorry, just let yourself be warned. He's a horrible person and I very much would like to spare you the horrors of what I've had to go through so far. I'll give you a sign, more than one", he explained to the blonde. If Caelan couldn't behave, Ronan would have to come up with something, however stupid it may be. Happiness was, after all, not achieve alone but rather together and if they ever wanted to consider themselves happy, they should at least start and try to do something about it, shouldn't they? It was only natural anyway. Ronan cared for Caelan, so much in fact, he'd gladly take a beating for him - and he knew he would at some point, simply to save himself from the horrors that were woes of bad mood, coming straight from his father. "And who wanted me to crawl into his bed? Hm? That I don't need it, in the end at least, is a mere coincidence!" Ronan knew that he had brought this upon himself and Caelan by extension, but he only wanted to play, just a bit - and yet, he already held those stupid papers in higher regard than his boyfriend, at least for the moment. "I know, sometimes you just know that you want something, but not what that might be, exactly", hadn't they gone over this? They both were indecisive as hell regardless. "I guess the decision is up to both of us?", he asked, not even meaning it. Maybe they'd do good if they just stopped kidding themselves.

"Our secret, hm? I'm not opposed, rather, I think I'll enjoy it." Then they wouldn't have to break into some poor, dead guys property and just try their best to live there, would they? Ronan was bound to his name, his title and his house, but ... Caelan made it sound like all of it would be cast away so effortlessly, only if he tried - only if he gave himself to the blonde and allowed him to hide away the two of them. And he, in his naivity, in his daze and stupor, did not even consider that maybe this life of his wasn't as horrible as he thought it was, that maybe, he needed nothing more than Caelan, who was stitching him back together, now that he had spent so much time in pieces. "You'll melt, I fear. But ... yes. That's a promise, we'll go back there and enjoy some more time together there!", he laughed. The place where they'd met - it sounded ridiculous, their relationship was only starting to blossom at this point, but Caelan made him feel loved, made him feel appreciated and Ronan enjoyed every second that he got of it - he enjoyed knowing that, while he loved the blonde already, he was already loved back, too. "Sadly, but if you're still offering it once all of this has healed, I won't oppose it." In the end, it was still his fault that Caelan had to deal with the aftermath of this all - if only he had taken better care of himself, this wouldn't have happened and the blonde would have been able to do what he wanted right about now. His hand, however, felt warm and a smile felt reassuring. "I do ... but if you want me to, you know, I can always do that, yes?" Was he offering himself to his boyfriend now, who already had the upper hand and was teasing him again? "Repay me? Then do, I'd like to see that - or feel it, actually", he chuckled, before the air felt like it had been sucked out of his lungs and Caelan stuck his fingers in between the fabric of his clothes and onto his skin. "I ... think I'll ... put my paperwork away?", he said, a slight blush on already rosy cheeks, as he put the papers atop the others on the nightstand. "Do you need help with ... getting rid of it?"