It's dark when he begins to wake, which is concerning, given that the automatic shutoff for the lights in the Seat of Divine Foresight is at a far later time than the hour he'd teased the Stoneheart with. Granted, he hadn't actually meant to fall asleep, however Aventurine ran a lovey level of warm, and he'd been fighting exhaustion since the morning- some days were more tiring than others, in his old age. Knowing he should wake doesn't quite register to his conscious mind, and his body instead nuzzles closer, cheek against the gloriously soft fabric of Aventurine's thigh. As he does, the man's scent invades his senses- woody and a touch floral, with an undercurrent of something sweet and heady- and he sighs in the back of his throat. Aventurine's hand grips the fabric on the back of his shoulder, and he begins to wake.
Two things get his attention immediately- the soft, trembling gasp from overhead... and the faint shift of the thigh beneath his cheek, driven up and forward by an involuntary twitch of the hips his arm is wrapped around.
(And oh, isn't that quite the apology he'll have to give?)
More than the movement, however, it's the sensation that accompanies it- a hot, hard swell against his cheek- that makes his eyes blink open immediately. Lifting his head proves that the lights aren't yet off- but rather that Aventurine had thrown his blazer over his head to shield him from the light. In fact, much of their current position seems to be for the benefit of his comfort in this situation... and the discomfort of the blond above him. Well- perhaps discomfort isn't the right word... chagrin, perhaps? Mortification? Yet sleep-hazed as he is, the General can't quite parse it as real, presuming he's having quite the dream indeed.
So he allows himself an indulgence, leaning his cheek back against that same thigh, that same restrained hardness, and blinks languidly up at Aventurine, arm tightening around his hips.
"Since that's likely the fault of my admittedly... presumptuous behavior," he smiles, slow and sleepy still, a yawn escaping, tongue curling against the back of a sharp incisor. "...shall I take care of it for you?"
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞, though he tried - and failed. For a short while, he let his mind wander, reflecting on how different his life looked now. The Stoneheart would never have presumed himself in a position quite like this - and he’d been in many. Aside from the tingling sensation running the length of his outer thigh from waning circulation, he wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. In truth, he hadn’t truly believed Jing Yuan would take that nap he teased about, yet… he let him rest anyway.
It became harder to ignore, however, when the General brushed alongside the inside of his thigh, when he could feel the slow, measured breath blooming in a far more intimate place than was wise. Yeah, you’re gonna have to stop that, he thought, shifting inch by inch to grant himself reprieve - lest the man wake to the mortification of exactly what effect he was having. He was quick to throw his blazer over the General’s head, shielding him from the light, perhaps even offering a sliver of dignity to the moment. Or maybe it was more for himself.
It wasn’t that Aventurine didn’t want that kind of closeness. He did. And he hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. But Aventurine was playing the long game. People didn’t stick around for someone like him, not when the thrill wore off. Not when it came to staying. And so, he wouldn’t put Jing Yuan in a position he hadn’t consciously chosen.
Still, when an arm curled tighter around his waist and a yawn followed close behind, Aventurine knew that sleepy weight was about to become something much more dangerous. He steeled himself, ready to play it off - to turn it into a joke, a flirt, a passing fantasy. What he didn’t expect was the offer. The words spoken in a low drawl, sleep drunk but undeniably real.
His cheeks flushed, tinged a shade of soft pink that only deepened as he looked down at the man sprawled contentedly between his legs, utterly unbothered by his position. His smirk returned - knowing, but no less teasing. “Well,” he began, a hand lifting to gently feather through white strands, “I think it’s only fair.” It was a tease. Or at least, it started that way - because surely, surely, Jing Yuan wouldn’t follow through. Not like that. Not here.
“But you’re still half asleep,” he added with a laugh that didn’t quite hold steady, betraying the tension low in his spine. His hand lingered in the general’s hair - once, twice - calm, measured, controlled. If he left it there too long, he might start to believe this was something soft. Something he could have.
“And I wouldn’t want you regretting anything once that noble sense of propriety kicks in.” The grin returned, crooked and knowing. A beat passed. Then, quieter, more honest, just a thread of vulnerability laced into the velvet of his tone: “But… if that offer was more than just a sleep addled whisper...” his fingers traced down the curve of Jing Yuan’s ear, slow and deliberate, “ - you’d better not fall asleep halfway through.”
Leaning back once more, letting the illusion of ease settle over him like a familiar coat, Aventurine resumed that idle leg bounce beneath the general’s head. His smile stayed - charming, closed, careful.
