Staying In

The rain came down hard, splattering against the windows. Wout mouthed at Christophe’s neck, curled his arm around his torso. Christophe cuddled closer.

“Let’s stay in,” Christophe mumbled.

“We have recon,” Wout said. “Classics prep.” Though a lazy day in bed sounded better.

Christophe turned in his arms. “Fuck ’em. They can take care of themselves.”

Wout laughed. Christophe’s eyes were half-lidded. Wout couldn’t help but kiss him. He could feel Christophe’s smirk against his lips.

“I bet I can change your mind,” Christophe said. He dragged himself down Wout’s body.

Christophe’s mouth was so good, Wout almost did. Almost.