wrath of the bunny

“Why don’t you make some tea and shut the fuck up for a second?”

The words linger in his mind, replaying over and over again with every step he takes. It’s been two days since Trostenwald, two days since they paid out Gustav’s prison sentence.

“You’re usually not so rude.”

“He shouldn’t have stuck his nose into business that wasn’t his,” he grumbles.

A low laugh, shoulder nudging against his. “You don’t mean that.”

It’s not as if it bothers him, he wants to argue. He has probably forgotten all about it by now. He stubbornly keeps quiet

“But it bothers you.”

“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he mutters under his breath. He never could. So what, he was unnecessarily rude to Caduceus. He can’t do anything about it now.

“You’re being a brat. I thought I taught you better than that.”

He feels the hand tilting up his chin, the thumb brushing over his lips. The spark in those lovely red eyes, the mean smile. But not cruel. Never cruel. He feels the breath stuck in his lungs, tastes the skin when he flicks his tongue over his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

He shivers. He remembers the worn down wooden boards uncomfortable under his knees, lifting his gaze in supplication. Needing to make amends, pleading to his king. Let me make it up to you. It had been a long night, a pleasurable one.

The tail wraps around his wrist, holds him close. Gaze burning, urging him to prove himself. Fjord would drop to his knees right now if he ordered him to.

A commotion on the cart. When he looks over, Beau is putting Caduceus’ hat back on his head. They’re smiling. Caduceus thanks her. Always so polite.

The pressure around his wrist disappears.