please write some happy Sinja to make up for wrecking our feels with AoS. I'm dying on the inside. you did this to me. please help.
YAY A REQUEST! I hope this heals you right up, nonny! Until I break you again tomorrow. (BTW guys, I’m going to keep these short and sweet, it’s just a little easier on me)
Summary: Drunken shenanigans at late hours can lead to some very good outcomes.
Characters: Ja’far, Sinbad
Sinbad bit down on the inside of his cheek in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughter at the rant that his advisor was currently giving him, his lips twitching into a large grin.
“’s a verrrrryyyy -hic- dep-deplor-a very bad habit, Sin,” Ja’far slurred, rolling his head up Sin’s arm to glare up at him with dazed eyes. “Drinkin’ all th’ time… And-and sleepin’ ‘round. It’s gonna get you killed one o’ these days…” He lurched forward unsteadily, trying to pull away from his king’s grasp. Sinbad’s arm was looped around Ja’far’s waist, his hand gripping the robes to maintain his hold. Swallowing down his laughter, he nodded sympathetically, absently yanking back on Ja’far’s robes in order to bring him back to his side.
And this time it wasn’t Sin’s fault.
It was Sharrkan this time, honest.
“I’m sure it is, Ja’far,” he agreed, nearly tripping over his own two feet when Ja’far tipped to the side again. It was bad enough that they had to navigate the moonlit streets, but navigating them with a drunk man was even worse. “But can you really lecture me when you’re the one drunk this time?” Ja’far stopped suddenly, nearly causing Sin to topple over. His dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight, blinking owlishly up at Sin. Confusion fluttered across his features, his lips tilting downwards. A dark flush brushed across his cheeks, his light freckles nearly disappearing underneath it. His hair was mussed, his headpiece lost in whatever nonsense he’d gotten into before Sin had arrived.
It was to some regret that Sin hadn’t arrived sooner.
“’m not drunk,” Ja’far insisted stubbornly, a pout crossing his expression. Sin grinned, finally allowing a light chuckle to escape.
“Of course you’re not.” Ja’far huffed, listing forward once more. Sighing, Sin lead them towards the palace. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Ja’far dug his heels into the ground once more, crossing his arms stubbornly.
“’m not sleepy.” Sin rose an eyebrow, glancing down at the unsteady form of his advisor. Ja’far met his gaze, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. Sin’s stomach flopped, a strange heat settling there at the hungry look in those onyx eyes. “I’m hungry.” A pink tongue darted out and swiped across Ja’far’s soft lips, wetting them with saliva. Sin swallowed harshly, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
“For…” he began hoarsely. “For what?”
“You,” Ja’far breathed. He flung his arms around Sin’s neck, pressing his lips firmly against Sin’s. It took him little time to shove his tongue down his king’s throat, causing a low groan to rumble in the back of Sin’s throat. It was sloppy, but it was heated, and oh so arousing. When they broke, Sinbad’s pulse was racing, his own cheeks flush and the distinct taste of his favorite ale on his tongue. His gaze remained locked on Ja’far, a raunchy smirk slipping across his lips.
Ja’far looked entirely alluring in the pale moonlight.
“Well, I suppose I can’t leave you hungry.”
And he shoved Ja’far up against the wall and proceeded to prove true to his word, his lips claiming Ja’far’s as his own.
