#giravolo

Volo, in turn, was quick to flash them that same charming smile that almost never failed to get him exactly what he wanted. “Nothing a little rest can’t fix, I assure you. But first, we need only take care of-”

Their fan opened with a sound almost too sharp, as if it were just as displeased as its owner to see the ragged state their beloved had worked himself into. 

“First.” Gris started, their tone not leaving any room for argument. “We need to take care of you.” 

Volo’s eyes softened, a weary look betraying exactly how tired he’d been, allowing himself to be vulnerable for a moment as if there was no one else but them in there.

“Come. I’ll not have you on your feet for much longer.” Gris extended their hand, they’d need to have a word with Ginter soon enough, maybe even ensure that the Platinum Clan would be placing a few more orders from the guild under the condition that Volo stayed over for longer. 

Volo took their hand with a sigh, closing his eyes and letting them pull him closer. He squeezed their hand, leaning his head into their chest for a moment. 

“I missed you.” He confessed, voice smaller than he’d allow anyone else to hear. “I missed you so much it hurt.”

“I know, my sweet Volo.” Gris tipped his cap back to press a kiss against his forehead. “I missed you just as much.”

They led him back into their quarters to change, shedding that ridiculous uniform as if he could leave all the worries that came with it behind. It felt good to see him out of it, and it looked as if Volo thought much the same. He looked lighter, and Gris knew it had nothing to do with the heavy backpack he’d settled by the entrance.

They traced the line of his collarbone, letting that touch linger for a few seconds before they followed it with their lips. Each kiss more tender than anything else, letting the moment speak for itself. 

“You’re so precious, my Volo.” Gris whispered against his skin. Settling their hands around his waist, they led Volo back through their chambers. To the expecting water of their personal bath, always kept warm by the nearby volcano. 

Heatran claimed it to have healing properties, something about the minerals or another such thing. Gris took their word for it, especially when it did seem to be so good for Volo every time he came over. 

Gris shed their robes and stepped into the water first, guiding Volo into their arms as they settled into the stones of the private little hot spring. Volo relaxed almost instantly, the tension easing from his shoulders as he melted into their arms. 

Gris tugged at Volo’s bun, letting his hair fall loose over his shoulders like spun gold. Volo was gorgeous under any circumstances but Gris thought he was particularly stunning like this, right at the heart of their clan, in their arms, looking up to them like there was nothing else in the world.

Volo sat over their lap, and Gris gently guided him to rest his head on the crook of their neck as they ran their hands up and down over his back, coaxing him to relax and feeling all the tension bleed from his muscles. They’d not be surprised if he fell asleep right then and there, feeling safer than anywhere else in the world. 

Volo pressed a few kisses over the spot where their pulse point would be if they were mortal, the gesture making something in their chest swell with affection in a way that almost resembled a beating heart.