“We got married last night.” (Treasure Hunters!!!)
It took a moment for the words to sink in and for a moment Killian doesn’t have the strength to answer - too focused on trying to make the bloody room stop spinning. “Ah, shit ..” Everything hurt, from the pounding in his head to the ache in his back from sleeping crammed in such a small space ... muscles twisted and cramped from spending the night in the older man’s cabin bed.
Bloody hell.
“Tell me again why we decided to have this slumber party on your ship?” Oh, god. Blue eyes landed on a half empty bottle of tequila and Killian groaned, tongue pressing to the inside of one cheek as he willed whatever it was he had consumed the night before to stay where it belonged. Half falling from the tangle of sheets, too lazy to do much more than groan helplessly as he slid down to the floor below, the younger man squinted, barely making out Guy’s silhouette through bleary eyelids.
“We got ... married.” The word sounded strange on his tongue, not because of the pretense of it but more so that he could have sworn they had picked a different date. Fingers twiddled the engagement (wedding, now?) ring on his finger as eyes remained stubbornly closed, voice muffled by a tongue weighted down with the cotton aftertaste of liquor.
“Well... Aye. Can’t say I’m too bloody disappointed, you know?” One eye finally peeked open at the words, lower lip sticking out in a pout as he motioned toward the blanket and sheet wrapped around his middle. “Little help here, love?”








