no subject

[If only Ain were wearing lipstick. Then Wolfwood would get to see each and every one of those kisses laid across his skin. Ah well...next time, perhaps. Right now, he is far too exhausted to consider doing anything more tonight than bathing and going to fucking bed, which is why he's thanking his lucky stars that Ain is offering to fly them out in the first place. Thank you, bless you, he doesn't want to have to think too hard about moving right now.

Instead, he'll enjoy the sight of his own seed spilling out of Ain (phew) as he reaches over to gather up their clothing, which gets unceremoniously plopped into his lap. He'll make sure he's got a good grip on it all, leaning sideways against Ain's chest as he's lifted.]

Got it. 'Least the rainwater prolly washed 'em some.