“Shh. I only tease, Vincent. We’ve got quite a few years yet until that conversation, I’m sure. Rest assured when it’s time, I’ll speak to him.” No doubt the amused curl of his lips would be felt with the kiss he presses to Vincent’s cheek. ”But you might want to rethink the threat of shooting his genitals off. You’d terrify the poor sod he brings home to meet us, as if his relation to us isn’t scary enough. Besides, I doubt Arles would be happy if his potential partner fainted. We’d never hear the end of it.”
Arms come up and around a dual-toned cranium, pulling the WEAPONic head down within reach of pale lips. Brushing against rose ones, he murmurs, "I can’t help the fact that it’s true." Fully pressing his mouth to his mate’s, he closes his eyes and tangles his hands in fluffy hair. Trapped though he is, he manages to push a knee up to lean into the side of the man above him. He is perfectly content, with wings enveloping him and the person of his affections nicely pressed against him, on a bed with decent sheets and soft pillows. The curtains have not yet been opened, per his dislike of a grumpy partner in the morning being woken by the sun [though personally he enjoys being woken by the warm beams], and a muted light fills the room and casts shadows in the blankets and on occupied bodies.
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