At least there's no risk of you eating the pillows.
[ Speaking of the Titans, and things Wrathion liked to collect.
Though even as his brow furrows, he doesn't draw away. Instead his fingers continue to trail idly through the dragon's dark hair, the glass of wine lifted to his lips once more.
Hard to say if that warmth growing under his skin is due to the alcohol, or the dragon's proximity. ]
[Wrathion's tongue slides over his lips at that comment, a low and mischievous chuckle echoing in response to his statement. It would have been a perfectly good waste of a Gift of the Titans if he had not eaten that heart, thank you very much.
His opposite arm blindly reaches to drag a pillow from the pile to rest on top of the pair of them and begins to drag his nails across it idly instead.]
On the other hand ... I might argue the risk of pillow eating in this room is quite high.
[ And then the meaning of his words settles in, and it's a good thing he wasn't drinking in that moment, for the way the young monarch suddenly flushes pink. ]
Don't pretend you aren't pleased with yourself for it.
[ One would think, as much as he's seen and done here in the city, he'd be less prone to it. But sometimes it appears he can still be taken by surprise.
Or the wine is starting to settle in. One of these things is true. ]
I would never dream of pretending otherwise. It is impeccably charming.
[Which is precisely why he's done it, of course. It was a nice change from the somber state of affairs that had called him there -- and getting Anduin to blush takes the focus off of that.]
[ When he'd considered the ways he might be able to help Wrathion, allowing him to tease him about his propensity for turning red was not precisely what he'd had in mind.
[His eyes drift closed, chin still perched on his shoulder. He is strangely at ease like this, warm and vaguely lost in the unfamiliar floating feeling. Wrathion casually brushes the pillow off of Anduin's lap, placing it under the arm still holding the wine.
He goes rather quiet afterwards. He may or may not have simply fallen asleep.]
[ Thus he remains for some time, unwilling to dislodge Wrathion just yet. While he knows he'll have to leave him to sleep on his own eventually, there's something remarkably peaceful about simply being here. No other reason than the comfort of one another's company.
How far things have come. Though not without due struggle along the way.
Eventually he does move, after the wine is gone from his glass and Wrathion's breathing seems to have evened out to some degree. He's careful, shifting so that the dragon's head finds a pillow almost immediately, pausing to peer down at his sleeping expression before leaning down.
There's more left to talk about, but it can wait. Neither of them are going anywhere, literally or figuratively.
A brief kiss against his temple, full of warmth and affection, and Anduin extricates himself to go take the glasses to the kitchen. And to retrieve the bottle of wine, before he goes. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Speaking of the Titans, and things Wrathion liked to collect.
Though even as his brow furrows, he doesn't draw away. Instead his fingers continue to trail idly through the dragon's dark hair, the glass of wine lifted to his lips once more.
Hard to say if that warmth growing under his skin is due to the alcohol, or the dragon's proximity. ]
no subject
[Wrathion's tongue slides over his lips at that comment, a low and mischievous chuckle echoing in response to his statement. It would have been a perfectly good waste of a Gift of the Titans if he had not eaten that heart, thank you very much.
His opposite arm blindly reaches to drag a pillow from the pile to rest on top of the pair of them and begins to drag his nails across it idly instead.]
On the other hand ... I might argue the risk of pillow eating in this room is quite high.
no subject
[ And then the meaning of his words settles in, and it's a good thing he wasn't drinking in that moment, for the way the young monarch suddenly flushes pink. ]
You're terrible. You know that?
no subject
Am I? It is not an untrue statement. Crude, perhaps, but...
[Wrathion's chin tips upward, resting thoughtfully on his shoulder.]
You are blushing.
no subject
[ One would think, as much as he's seen and done here in the city, he'd be less prone to it. But sometimes it appears he can still be taken by surprise.
Or the wine is starting to settle in. One of these things is true. ]
no subject
[Which is precisely why he's done it, of course. It was a nice change from the somber state of affairs that had called him there -- and getting Anduin to blush takes the focus off of that.]
no subject
Strange medicine, this. ]
'Charming'. You mean 'amusing', I'm sure.
no subject
[His eyes drift closed, chin still perched on his shoulder. He is strangely at ease like this, warm and vaguely lost in the unfamiliar floating feeling. Wrathion casually brushes the pillow off of Anduin's lap, placing it under the arm still holding the wine.
He goes rather quiet afterwards. He may or may not have simply fallen asleep.]
no subject
How far things have come. Though not without due struggle along the way.
Eventually he does move, after the wine is gone from his glass and Wrathion's breathing seems to have evened out to some degree. He's careful, shifting so that the dragon's head finds a pillow almost immediately, pausing to peer down at his sleeping expression before leaning down.
There's more left to talk about, but it can wait. Neither of them are going anywhere, literally or figuratively.
A brief kiss against his temple, full of warmth and affection, and Anduin extricates himself to go take the glasses to the kitchen. And to retrieve the bottle of wine, before he goes. ]