[Their mouths melt together, Ed's harder, hotter, but not more than he can handle as his body wakes and a dizzying hunger of his own rises to meet Ed's. He answers him, not with teeth or tongue, but with purpose all the same, pouring everything he has in him to give. It's too soon, when they pull away - but it's feeling like all the time in the world wouldn't be enough.

He blinks at him, his pupil blown.]

Ah. A shame. And he was doing so well. [Vague disappointment bleeds into his voice.] Well, I am most definitely not going anywhere -- so I'll be around whenever he feels like dropping in.

[On a burning impulse, he almost asks if Ed has ever shrunk away from anyone else, or if it's only with him. But he bites it back, fighting to drive away the thought of the other people Ed has kissed, the others his hands have touched.

He licks his lips - the tartness of wine still clinging to them - and glances to the divider.]

I hate to ask, but are we there yet? Because I am very done with this seatbelt. And this wool coat.

[And sitting still.]