Tea & Paperwork

Yours, Mine, Ours

CW: Contains Smut

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Wriothesley doesn't have a key to Neuvillette's fancy townhouse, but he does have a decent set of lock picks, and very nimble fingers.

Neuvillette won't mind. "Make yourself at home," he's always said on the nights they retire here, together. There's been too little of that lately, both of them wracked with heavy work loads.

Wriothesley is strung out and tired. He spent the day looking over paperwork until his vision blurred. Counted the new inmates and said goodbye to those whose sentences ended. Then he spent two hours dodging Sigewinne's demand for his annual physical, which is how he wound up here.

Breaking and entering is a... strong... term. Wriothesley knows that Neuvillette would just leave the damn door unlocked for him if he could. Wriothesley already has a spare set of clothing, and even a toothbrush here. Boxes of tea. An old blanket that Sigewinne gave him years ago lives on the back of Neuvillette's couch. He leaves a piece of himself every time that he stays over.

The lock clicks and Wriothesley smiles, letting himself inside. It smells crisp and damp like the ocean air, like Neuvillette. Wriothesley shuts the door behind him, turning the lock back in place. He leans against the door, sucking in a breath, sighing at the comfort that falls across his shoulders.

It's funny how he sees this as a second home, now. He and Neuvillette are new to this, still navigating the shallow waters of their relationship, but Wriothesley isn't a fool; this is it, for him. There won't be another, he doesn't want another. Neuvillette offers comfort that the thick walls of Meropide have ever given him.

The townhouse is dark and quiet. Wriothesley kicks off his shoes and pads across the floor gently even though he knows Neuvillette isn't there. It'll be a late night at the office. It was supposed to be for him as well, but Wriothesley had other plans. Mental health is important, something that Sigewinne would agree with.

The bedroom is dark too, already lulling Wriothesley into wanting a nap. That would be nice. Some rest—actual rest—genuine sleep instead of dozing off in his office chair with the expectation of being rudely awakened, either by a Garde, or the clanging pipes.

Neuvillette's bed is soft and cool, with the highest quality sheets. Like sleeping on a cloud. His own bed is nothing but a hard cot, and rough-spun linen. Wriothesley smirks, an idea sparking in his brain.

"A surprise," he says to himself, shrugging off his jacket, letting it drop to the floor. He'll clean up the mess later. Next his tie, his vest, and the rest of his clothes, all dumped unceremoniously as he makes his way to the mattress.

Those fancy sheets are a balm against his naked skin. The moment Wriothesley sinks into the bed, he drowns in Neuvillette's scent, burying his face into a pillow with a sigh.

Perfect. Yeah, this is... He groans, a pleased, content sound. Just a nap. Neuvillette will come home to the sight of him in his bed, and it'll please all those fun dragon-y instincts of his. Wriothesley is weak for that, for Neuvillette's inhuman nature. And then they can cuddle, and sleep together, and Wriothesley will wake up entirely refreshed.

That's a good plan. Wriothesley falls asleep with a smile on his face and dreams of Neuvillette.

#

Wriothesley wakes up to a shock of cold, and fingers trailing down the thick taper of his waist.

"Mhmn." Wriothesley stretches and looks around the room blearily.

"I know that I should care about the reason you are naked in my bed, but I think that I shall enjoy it for a moment first."