We won't sleep tonight
gyuvin glances down at ricky sprawled petulantly across their sheets, silent rage rolling off his unmoving body in thick waves. he’s so perfect. doll-like, would be the best way to describe it. the realization makes arousal sink hard and fast into gyuvin’s lower stomach as he keeps staring down at ricky, unable to turn his gaze away.
he really looks like a doll, gyuvin thinks, and wouldn’t it be a shame if no one played with such a pretty toy?
ricky doesn’t react when the mattress dips under gyuvin’s weight. he doesn’t react when gyuvin slides one hand up the small of his back, the warmth of his hand surely felt under flimsy lace. he doesn’t react when gyuvin leans down to breathe softly against his exposed nape, stirring the few wispy strands curled at the base of his neck.
“babe,” gyuvin whispers. “wanna play a game?”
happy wife, happy life. those are the words that gyuvin, the devoted husband of one particularly finicky cat, chooses to live by. sometimes, he suspects that ricky likes to start fights just so they can make up, and luckily for the both of them, gyuvin knows how to kiss it better.
