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“Better than I look,” he replied with a faint smile, his voice lacking conviction. “Just a bit sore.” He settled back against the cushions, letting out a quiet sigh as he eased into a more comfortable position.

You leaned in closer, hand finding his as the other trailed along his jaw, brushing your fingers gently across it. “You really should rest. You’re gonna push too hard and your body needs to heal.”

Zayne leaned into your touch, relishing in your warmth. “I just hate feeling…useless,” he admitted. “Sitting around doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s not useless if it’s what you need to get better,” you countered softly, your heart aching for him. You wanted to protect him, to ensure he took the time to recover properly. “Just let yourself relax for now.”

He opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours. There was a softness there, a vulnerability that made your breath hitch. “What do you suggest we do, then?”

You tilted your head, a smile creeping onto your lips. “How about we just stay here? We can watch a movie or talk…order a  takeaway?”

Zayne smiled and there was a spark in his eyes that made your heart race. “Or…” he trailed off, his expression shifting as he moved closer to you too, “We could do something else…” he mumbles, hand moving to your thigh.

You looked up at him at the implication of his words. You were no stranger to the passion between you, or how high his sex drive seemed to be, but you definitely weren’t expecting it with his injuries, it felt different. “You were told not to, we shouldn’t, can’t.”

His lips curved into a gentle smile, one that held more tenderness than desire. “I know,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’m not asking for too much tonight” He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I just want to be close to you.”

The raw sincerity in his words melted away your resistance. You shifted, leaning into him as he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his good arm around your waist and guiding you to straddle him. His movements were slow, careful, mindful of his injuries, but he held you as tightly as he could manage without wincing.

You nestled into the warmth of his body, resting your head against his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart comforting against your ear. But of course when he said he wanted to be close to you, he didn’t just mean cuddling on the sofa and you were quickly made aware of that fact when his fingers slid from your waist downwards, tracing the edge of your panties.

Zayne’s touch was delicate, almost reverent as he pulled your panties aside and though he was injured you knew better than to argue, after all, he was stubborn when he wanted something. There was a softness in his actions—a slowness that spoke of both tenderness and restraint. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple in a quiet, unspoken promise of care.

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh as his fingers traced slow, languid circles against your clit. His movements were gentle, cautious, as though mindful of his own pain but focused entirely on your pleasure. His ring finger slid along your folds, the cold metal making you shiver as he pulled back slightly to admire the view of his ring disappearing inside your waiting hole.

You felt his body relax against yours, the tension easing from his shoulders, "Just wanna be inside you. Can I? Please-" he murmured, his voice low and husky against your ear. The question was filled with genuine love, and the sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching as his fingers continued their slow exploration. Your hands wandered his skin, fingers dancing across his collarbone before settling on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His lips found yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was intense, the heat between you simmering just below the surface.

He shifted slightly, careful not to aggravate his injuries, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You could feel the gentle pressure of his fingers against your skin, grounding you in the moment, even as his other hand continued its slow, deliberate strokes, building your pleasure with every gentle circle of his thumb.

Your breath caught in your throat as your body tensed up, but his touch wasn’t rushed. It was as though he wanted to savour every minute, take his time with you. His lips parted from yours long enough for him to whisper against your skin, "I love you," before trailing soft kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck.

His hand finally moved down to his pants and with no hesitation in his movements, he quickly tugged them down past his hips so that he could pull his cock out. It wasn’t thick, but it was long and pretty, the tip glistening already from his pre. His eyes snapped back to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and when you gave him a soft, reassuring nod, his body relaxed.

Carefully, you lifted your hips, enough for him to settle his cock at the perfect angle as he positioned himself at your entrance. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping the head on your pussy, smirking at the sound it caused.

Slowly you lowered yourself down onto him, taking it inch by inch as his breaths came in soft, shaky gasps, leaning into you as he entered you slowly. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of heat and tenderness as he filled you completely.

The sound of his quiet groan as he buried himself inside you only made your heart ache with affection for him. You could feel the strain in his muscles, the way his body was fighting to keep moving despite his injuries, but he never wavered in his gentleness. His hands gripped your hips lightly, holding you in place as he was so tempted to move.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice breathless, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly began to, his pace steady and controlled.

You steadied his hips, stopping his movements,  “Let’s just stay like this, okay?” you whispered, “I don’t want you making your injuries worse.”

"Of course," he whispered, his voice tender, filled with understanding. His body stilled, the intensity between you shifting into something even more intimate, more comforting. His arms wrapped gently around you, pressing your bodies together, skin to skin, with no need for hurried movement or frantic passion.

You felt the warmth of him wrap itself around you, the cadence of his breathing smoothing your own. The nearness, the fact that you merely existed together, was enough to cause your chest to ache with emotion. His injuries were still on your mind, but right now it was just the two of you together, safe.

You laid your head against his shoulder, your fingers tracing along the bandages wrapped around his arm. The way he was holding you, despite the pain, said so much about how he cared. He wasn't just desperate to be physically close; he needed you with him in a way more profound than words could say.

His hand wandered down your back, lighter than a feather, as if he was committing the feel of you to memory, relishing the quiet moment between you both. There wasn't any hurry for anything else, it was just you two, wrapped up in each other's presence.

"Thank you-," he whispered, his voice low enough that it was barely there. “For everything.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured, your voice warm and tender.

Zayne held you close, his body warm and solid against yours, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the careful way he was holding back, resisting the urge to move. The heat between your bodies was palpable; the connection between you two was so strong that even in the stillness every slight shift of his hips sent a ripple of pleasure through you. He was buried inside you, and though he wasn't moving, the feeling of being so intimately connected, so deep inside you was overwhelming.

You could feel the slight trembling in his arms as he resisted the urge to thrust, tension in his breathing as he concentrated on making his movements slow, measured. His forehead leaned against yours, the heat of his breath against your lips with every shaky exhale. He wanted to move-you could feel it in the way his body responded to yours, the way his fingers tightened slightly on your hips-but he was holding himself back, determined not to push too far, not to aggravate his injuries.

“I’m trying,” he whispered, his voice low and ragged, barely above a breath. “But god it’s really- really hard- especially when you keep clenching around me.”

“I’m sorry- can’t help it-” you mumbled as you shifted slightly, adjusting your hips enough to feel him even deeper inside you, and a soft groan escaped his lips. His hands gripped your waist tighter for a moment, his body trembling with the effort to stay still. The pleasure between you simmered, slow and sweet, the tension in the air thickening as you both savoured the closeness, the quiet intensity of the moment.

His breath hitched as you pressed yourself against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. You could feel how much he wanted to move, how much he wanted to lose himself in you, and fuck you properly like he wanted to, but he was holding back with a kind of tenderness that made your heart swell. His body was warm, solid, and yet so vulnerable beneath your touch.

“I want to,” he murmured, his voice tight with desire, “So badly, just slowly, please-”

His confession, raw and honest, sent another shiver through you. You could feel how hard he was trying to resist the urge to move, to hold back, and that only made the pleasure between you burn hotter. 

“You were ordered not to, you should know that better than anyone. Didn’t think you’d ignore medical advice-” you teased, a knowing smile on your face.

Even as he tried to hold himself still, every tiny movement—every shift of your bodies together—was enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through you. The intensity of his presence, the way his body was wrapped around yours, was almost too much to bear. Each subtle twitch, each breathless sigh, sent shivers of heat rolling through you, building slowly but surely.

He clutched at you, fingers digging into your skin like he was holding on for dear life, as though the pleasure was too intense to keep bottled up. "Feels… too good," he whispered, his voice rough, the words barely audible through his ragged breaths. "But I—" Another whimper broke free from his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily.

His body betrayed him, instinctively seeking more, despite the fatigue that was clearly wearing him down. His resistance only made the heat between you grow fiercer, feeding off his vulnerability, his soft sounds of helpless surrender to the sensations wracking his body.

Zayne’s breath hitched as another soft whimper escaped him, his body trembling against yours. “It’s been too long,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion, his words tumbling out as if he couldn't control them. “I haven’t felt you like this… in so fucking long.” His tone was filled with raw vulnerability, his exhaustion evident, but it was as if the floodgates had opened, and he couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“I missed you,” he admitted, his voice almost a rasp now, punctuated by breathless gasps. “I didn’t realise how much—how much I needed this. How much I needed you.” His fingers tightened around your skin, like he was afraid you might slip away, his desperation palpable. 

“It’s too much, I—” Another broken sound slipped from him, his hips stuttering against yours as he pressed closer, like he was trying to fuse your bodies together, his cock twitching at every clench of your walls, your pussy sucking him in for all he’s worth, even as the two of you both tried to remain still.

“Stop doing that- I’m too sensitive right now- god-” His words came out in a frantic rush now, like he was unravelling beneath you, his carefully composed exterior finally crumbling.

Another quiet whine left his throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, surrendering completely to the feeling of your pussy gripping him like a vice, like you were doing it on purpose. He couldn’t help the low groan that escaped as Zayne’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you, biting down on your shoulder as his orgasm hit him.

It felt as though fireworks were going through him, his thighs shaking as he came, unable to hold back and whining at the sensitivity when you moved your hips slightly, prolonging the feeling as he sat back and let you.

"I..." His voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against your skin. “I didn't mean for that to happen that fast." He leaned back some, his face flushed, the faintest shade of pink climbing up his neck to his cheeks. "We weren't even really-”

Zayne's eyes darted away, the embarrassment palpable in every subtle movement of his body. His hands, which had been so sure and desperate before, rested now light on your skin, almost hesitant. You could feel the tension radiate from him as he was waiting for you to say anything, unsure how to handle the raw vulnerability that he had just let on.

You reached up, your fingers delicately cupping his cheek as you guided his eyes back to yours. His breath hitched, but he didn't pull away this time. The softness in his gaze was still there, lingering beneath the surface of his embarrassment, and you gave him a small smile.

"It's alright," you whispered, your voice low and soothing, the words filling in the space between the two of you with their warmth. "I'm glad I could help… even if only a little."

For one brief second, the tension in his body loosened, and his shoulders sagged when the weight of your words sank deep into him. His eyes softened a little more; the flush was still there on his cheeks, but for now, there was a flicker of something else-something akin to gratitude laced with relief.

Zayne exhaled, the breath shaky but less burdened now, and he leaned into your touch, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You always do,” he murmured, his voice quiet and full of unspoken emotion, as though the weight of everything he'd kept inside had finally lifted, if only a little. “Do you want me to help you-”

You interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence, “No- Just wanted to make you feel better.” you reassured softly as you leaned in to kiss him.

“I love you so much.” he whispered against your lips as he pulled you as close as physically possible.

“I love you too.”

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“You’ll do anything?” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with authority.

He nodded wildly, eyes wide and dark with lust, "Anything-Please."

You looked down at him for a moment, savouring the power you held over him, how he trembled at your feet, willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

"Fine," you said finally, releasing his hair to step back. "Get on the bed."

Choso scrambled to his feet, almost falling over as he rushed to it. He let out a breath as he flung himself onto the bed-falling back with his eyes fixed on you, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he waited for your next move.

You followed slowly, taking your time as you settled beside him. His hands immediately reached for you, but you caught his wrists, pushing them away gently as you shook your head.

"No touching," you said stoutly, narrowing your eyes. "Not yet. I'm still mad at you." 

You traced your fingers lightly down his chest, watching the way his breath hitched, his muscles tensing up under your touch. He whined, looking like a dejected puppy but pulled his hands back nevertheless.

"God, please…", Choso's voice was torn and barely hanging on. "Please, don't tease me. I’m so sorry-”

“You did this to yourself,” you reminded him coolly, your fingers barely grazing the waistband of his pants. His hips jerked up instinctively, searching for more contact, but you pulled away just as quickly, drawing a tortured groan from him.

“Please,” he whimpered again, hands fisting the sheets as he fought to stay still. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” you whispered,“And you will.”

Choso shuddered at your words, his hands gripping the sheets even tighter as you trailed your hand lower, teasingly brushing against his erection through the fabric of his pants. He let out a broken moan, head falling back against the pillows, completely at your mercy.

You kept your touch feather-light, teasing him with just enough pressure to remind him how close he was, but not enough to give him any real relief. Every time your fingers grazed over the ache between his legs, it left him on the verge of breaking, his need growing with every second of your restraint.

Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back, your eyes locking with his. “I want you to remember this the next time you can’t control yourself in public,” you whispered, your voice laced with amusement as your fingers barely brushed over his clothed erection again.

Choso's breath hitched sharply at your touch, a desperate whimper escaping his lips. He instinctively bucked his hips into your hand, searching for more, but you pulled away just as quickly, leaving him yearning for the friction he craved so desperately.

"Ah, fuck, please." he breathed, his voice tight with desperation. His fists clenched into the bedsheets, the knuckles going white as he struggled still to remain still-to fight off the powerful urge begging him to reach out and drag you nearer.

The anticipation in his gaze couldn't have been mistaken. His pupils blown wide with lust, his chest heaved as his breathing was ragged. He looked absolutely wrecked, sprawled out beneath you, his skin flushed and slick with a light sheen of sweat-utterly at your mercy and you hadn’t even started.

You leaned down again, pressing a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth as the shudder ran through him. Your hand slid lower, cupping him through the fabric of his pants, and he twitched hard against your palm, aching for your touch.

Choso let out a choked moan, hips jerking up of their own accord in an attempt to force more contact. "Yes, fuck, please. I need it. I need you. I'll do anything, just please touch me," he begged, raw desperation in his voice.

A smirk pulled at your lips as you revelled in the power over him. Seeing him like this-desperate, needy, and completely undone-was intoxicating in a way you couldn't deny.

"Since you asked so nicely." you purred, your fingers taking their sweet time to pull down his sweats. His eyes widened as his entire body stiffened in anticipation. You slipped your hand inside his boxers, sliding your fingers around his throbbing length and pulling his cock free.

He let out a deep, guttural groan, his head falling back against the pillows, completely lost to the sensation of finally being touched.

"Fuck, yes..." Choso breathes, his voice shaky as his hips twitch up into your hand, chasing the friction your touch offers.

You begin stroking him slowly, your grip firm but deliberately not too tight. His cock pulses in your hand, the velvety skin hot and smooth beneath your fingers. Pre-cum beads at the tip, and you use your thumb to smear it across, making his shaft glisten under the soft light.

Your pace remains teasing, every movement feather-light, dragging out his need. Choso whimpers beneath you, his body writhing, hips lifting off the bed in an attempt to get more pressure, more of the pleasure he’s aching for. But you keep him in check, maintaining the maddeningly slow pace, determined to drive him wild.

"Fuck, your hand feels so good," he pants, his voice strained, the sound thick with desperation. His abs flex with every ragged breath, muscles jumping as his body responds to your agonisingly slow strokes. You can feel the way he throbs in your grip—hot, hard, and on edge, just waiting for more.

Leaning down, you trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down the curve of his neck, your teeth grazing and sucking at the sensitive skin. Choso keens, his fingers instinctively tangling in your hair, tugging you closer as his body shudders beneath your touch.

"Please, I need more," he begs, his voice wrecked, already on the verge, and you haven’t even fully started. A dark chuckle escapes your lips against his throat, the vibration making him tremble in response.

"Patience, baby."

You speed up your strokes just slightly, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, knowing exactly how that little twist drives him insane. Choso cries out, his back arching off the bed, his thighs trembling beneath you as he tightens, so close. You feel the tension build in his body, his breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps as his balls draw up tight.

"Shit, I’m gonna... fuck, I’m close already," he groans, his voice high and tight, on the verge of breaking. But just as he teeters on the edge of release, you slow your hand again, pulling him back from the brink just in time.

"Please don’t stop—" Choso whines, his whole body shaking with the effort of holding back the orgasm he so desperately craves. You smirk, gripping him from base to tip, watching the desperation pour off him in waves, completely at your mercy.

Choso's whole body is shaking with effort of restraint, muscles rigid and tensed in his struggle to remain in control. A fine sheen of sweat slicks over his flushed skin, chest rising and falling with every disjointed breath. His cock pulses in your hand, swollen at the tip and leaking steadily with his restraint.

Your touch remains a maddening blend of pleasure and denial, every stroke measured just right to keep him teetering on the edge without giving him what he so desperately needs. 

Choso's eyes are screwed shut, his face twisted up in an almost agonised expression, practically panting with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. His whole body had gone taut, every muscle rigid under the smothering tension surging through him.

"Please, please, please" he's mumbling low under his breath, voice husky with need. You can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, his body telling you he's close again but you're not ready to give it to him.

"Not yet," you whisper, the words low as you lean in to nip at his earlobe. The sensation sends him into a shudder; he lets out a strangled moan, his hips jerking upward in a futile attempt to get more than you’re offering. But you hold him steady, keeping him firmly under your control.

You finally release your grip on his throbbing cock, and Choso’s eyes flutter open, watching you with a mix of hope and fear. He’s so desperate, so close, but when he opens his mouth to beg again, you silence him with a slow, teasing kiss. Your tongue flicks out to taste the salty sweat on his skin, making him tremble even more.

Your lips trail lower, down his chest, until you’re kneeling between his spread thighs. His breath catches as you hover over his cock, your breath ghosting across the sensitive, swollen head. Choso lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting in the sheets, watching with wide, needy eyes as you lower your lips to him.

You take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling gently around the tip, savouring this moment. A deep, desperate moan escapes his lips, but you keep a hand on his stomach, silently telling him to stay, refusing to let him take control. You keep your pace slow, your lips wrapping snugly around him, teasing the sensitive slit with your tongue.

"Fuck, yes," Choso groans, his voice trembling as you suck him deeper. You can feel him stretch your throat as you take him further, your tongue tracing the veins along the underside of his cock, making him shudder beneath you.

You pull back, leaving him slick and glistening with saliva. Choso's head rolls back, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. His cock pulses in your hand-the veins standing out, throbbing with his need for release.

You smile up at him for a moment before sliding back down and taking him into your mouth again, sucking with just enough force to keep him right on the edge. His body goes rigid, his hands clenching the sheets so tight, his cock twitching between your lips as you control the rhythm, keeping him dangling on the brink of pleasure.

As you continue to tease Choso with your mouth, you feel him getting close again—his thighs trembling, his cock pulsing urgently against your tongue. Just as he teeters on the brink of release, you pull back, releasing him with a soft, deliberate ‘pop.’ The frustrated whine that escapes him is immediate.

“Fuck, why did you stop?" he pants, his voice strained and shaking with need. His eyes are wide and pleading, wordlessly begging you for the release he's been chasing all night.

You smirk smugly, your tongue sweeping over your lips. "Because I can," you reply, your voice teasing.

Choso's body is a mess of desperate twitches and jerks, his hips rocking forward in a futile attempt to guide himself deeper into your mouth. His skin is sheened with sweat, and his whimpers grow more frantic, more needy with every passing second. You can feel him growing more sensitive with each pulse of his cock against your tongue more intense than the last.

He's so close now, his breathing catching in his throat as his entire body tenses, almost as though bracing for the release you keep pulling just out of reach.

"Please—" he whimpers, voice cracking under the weight of desperation. "Please, I can't—

But you don't let up. You just keep teasing him, your mouth working him, balancing him precariously over the edge of release without pushing him over. Each time he gets close, his body locking up with anticipation, you pull back far enough to let him be denied again. His frustration mounts, and so do his desperate, whining pleas.

Choso's whimpers grow louder, more insistent-raw with need. You can see it in the tight lines of his face, his muscles quivering with tension in the ongoing fight against denial.

"Fuck, please, I need-" he gasps, strain breaking his voice to barely coherent. He's at his limit.

You wrap your hand around his throbbing shaft, stroking him slowly, deliberately. “What do you need, baby?” you purr, your voice low and taunting as you watch him unravel beneath you.

“I need to come,” Choso whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. “I’m so fucking close, please—”

You tighten your grip around him, twisting your wrist just the way you know drives him wild. His cry is immediate, his back arching off the bed as his cock pulses desperately in your hand, the veins standing out in stark relief. He’s on the verge of breaking, so close to surrendering to the pleasure you’ve been teasing him with all night.

"Look at me," you command, your voice steady and firm. Choso’s eyes flutter open, hazy with lust and desperation. When they meet yours, they are pleading, full of raw need.

"Please," he gasps, his hips twitching up into your hand, chasing the friction you’re cruelly denying him. "I can’t take it anymore. I need to come so bad it hurts."

You feel him throbbing in your palm, every pulse a testament to how close he is, teetering on the edge of release. He's completely undone, radiating desperation in waves that crash against you.

"Are you sorry for ruining my dinner with my friends?" you ask, your tone deceptively calm.

For a moment, Choso blinks up at you in confusion, his brow furrowing. Then realisation hits and his eyes widen- panic and pleading blending into one frantic expression. He nods, vigorously- wide, begging eyes that never leave yours. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry," he gasps out, words tumbling from his lips in short desperate bursts. "I'm so fucking sorry, please-"

He's a mess beneath you, completely destroyed-his skin flushed, slick with sweat, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His cock is throbbing in your grip, the tip an angry shade, leaking uncontrollably as he teeters on the edge of oblivion.

"I didn't mean to- fuck, I swear I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I was just so fucking horny, I- I couldn't help myself. Please, let me come. I'll do anything-just please-"

His voice cracks, a sob welling in his throat, while his body quivers with the effort of withholding the release he so desperately needs. His hands fist the sheets, his knuckles white as his whole body becomes one massive bundle of tension in his trying to comply with your orders.

He's gorgeous like this: utterly destroyed, laid out beneath you, completely at your mercy. The knowledge of the power you have over him in this instant is an intoxicating feeling-the knowledgeable rush that gives the tingle down the spine. You could do anything to him like this, keep him on his brink, forever if you wanted.

Finally, you give in, your thumb rubbing over the swollen head, coaxing a drop of precum from the tip. Choso lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch.

"I forgive you," you murmur, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his lips. He moans into the kiss, his body arching up into yours, his cock jerking in your hand.

You pick up the pace of your strokes, watching as his eyes flutter open, his gaze hazy with lust. His hips buck into your hand, his body trembling with need.

"Come for me, baby," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. Choso lets out a guttural moan, his body tensing up as if preparing for the inevitable.

With a broken cry, Choso’s body tenses, his cock pulsing hard in your hand as he finally releases. Hot ropes of cum spill over your hand and onto his stomach, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. His hips jerk uncontrollably, thrusting up into your grip as you milk every last drop from him, prolonging his pleasure.

You hold him through it, your hand still wrapped gently around his length, coaxing him down from the high until the last tremors subside. Choso’s chest heaves, his body spent, a sheen of sweat covering his flushed skin. His breathing is ragged, his eyes closed in blissful exhaustion.

You pull back, sliding up along his body to press a soft kiss to his temple. “That’s a good boy,” you murmur, your thumb gently sweeping over his cheek, wiping away a stray bead of sweat.

Choso’s eyes flutter open, a dazed, satisfied smile curving his lips. He looks at you like he’s still floating somewhere far away, utterly content. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice soft, fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair, pulling you down for another gentle kiss.

"Anytime, baby," you whisper against his lips, your smile mirroring his. You settle down beside him, his head coming to rest on your shoulder, arms draped over your chest. Choso tugs you close, your heartbeat steady and calm against his ear as he lets his eyes close, blissfully exhausted.

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