via https://ift.tt/2vwGOQ5
“I’ll write you a pardon.” Regis teases, but it’s lighthearted as he pets down Nyxs spine. Cor is off in the kitchen somewhere, doing things to eggs that are best left unexplored until they end up on a plate.
“Seriously. You’re royalty, and my family aint had a royal bone in it since before Lucis was a kingdom.” he complains, and Regis has to grin. Nyx left that one wide open, and he does love the dear boy.
“Well, it had a royal bone in it last night.” Regis says, and rolls over to press Nyx into the mattress, his hands smoothing over strong sides and down the inviting curve of his hips.
Nyx groans like a wounded man and burries his face in the pillow, just as Cor comes into the room, balancing six plates and a pot of coffee. The usually stoic man arches an eyebrow at their antics, and sets everything on the side table.
“You’re terrible.” Cor laments, but he does lean down to steal a kiss off Regis’ grin. “No puns until he’s had coffee, your Majesty. He’s much quicker on the uptake when he’s caffeinated.”
“I hate you both.” Nyx whines from his pillow, but both of them can hear the grin in it. After all, it’s his beads set in fine silver and hair that they’re wearing now, rings woven in Galahdian style for Lucian traditions. Nyx wears their claim too, twin bands of mythril that have the Royal Crest on one, and a single blue gem on the other.
“You love us.” Regis coos, happy beyond words that he could have this again. “Now come on. Our husband has gone and made us breakfast. Be a shame to wait until it’s cold.”
(Your picture was not posted)
“I’ll write you a pardon.” Regis teases, but it’s lighthearted as he pets down Nyxs spine. Cor is off in the kitchen somewhere, doing things to eggs that are best left unexplored until they end up on a plate.
“Seriously. You’re royalty, and my family aint had a royal bone in it since before Lucis was a kingdom.” he complains, and Regis has to grin. Nyx left that one wide open, and he does love the dear boy.
“Well, it had a royal bone in it last night.” Regis says, and rolls over to press Nyx into the mattress, his hands smoothing over strong sides and down the inviting curve of his hips.
Nyx groans like a wounded man and burries his face in the pillow, just as Cor comes into the room, balancing six plates and a pot of coffee. The usually stoic man arches an eyebrow at their antics, and sets everything on the side table.
“You’re terrible.” Cor laments, but he does lean down to steal a kiss off Regis’ grin. “No puns until he’s had coffee, your Majesty. He’s much quicker on the uptake when he’s caffeinated.”
“I hate you both.” Nyx whines from his pillow, but both of them can hear the grin in it. After all, it’s his beads set in fine silver and hair that they’re wearing now, rings woven in Galahdian style for Lucian traditions. Nyx wears their claim too, twin bands of mythril that have the Royal Crest on one, and a single blue gem on the other.
“You love us.” Regis coos, happy beyond words that he could have this again. “Now come on. Our husband has gone and made us breakfast. Be a shame to wait until it’s cold.”
(Your picture was not posted)