Frey
Frey’s smile deepens, slow and pleased, as Zavien speaks. They do not interrupt him. They never rush this part. Instead, they lift the banana again, the pineapple ring still looped around it, and with an unhurried grace bring it to their lips. The moment their mouth closes around the fruit, sensation blooms—sweetness, juice, warmth—a syrupy rush that does not remain contained within Frey alone. The pineapple’s brightness drips, honeyed and sharp, and for an instant it is impossible to tell where Frey ends and Zavien begins, the taste echoing through him as if it were his own tongue that had met it.
Frey withdraws the empty peel with a soft hum of satisfaction, one brow arching as they regard him.
"There was never a timeline," they murmur lightly before their smile turns coy and knowing. "And no need to rush." They reach for another piece of fruit, rolling it idly between their palms as they consider him anew. "But you ask whether you should have done more," Frey continues, voice smooth as sun-warmed silk draped across bare skin. "So let me ask you something in return." A tilt of their head, curiosity sharpened by amusement.
"What, exactly, did you find so painful about a quiet little staycation with your girlfriend?"
A soft chuckle follows, affectionate rather than cruel. "You used your ring as I hoped you would," they allow, nodding once. "But that young woman was never truly lacking comfort, Zavien. Once healed, she seemed perfectly fine. Your task was to supplement the magic with your own personal touch so that you learned what you were capable of on your own, without the ring." Frey wrinkles their nose, playful and faintly chiding. "And I am not convinced you managed that part, budaboo."
They stretch then, arms lifting overhead in a languid arc, the motion entirely unselfconscious. Heat rolls off them in waves, the Longheat sun seeming to linger in every line of their body, and a small, pleased sigh escapes them as they settle again. "And when I told you to comfort someone physically," Frey adds at last, eyes gleaming as they look back down at him, "did you really think I meant a polite hug and a quick arm around the shoulders?"
Frey withdraws the empty peel with a soft hum of satisfaction, one brow arching as they regard him.
"There was never a timeline," they murmur lightly before their smile turns coy and knowing. "And no need to rush." They reach for another piece of fruit, rolling it idly between their palms as they consider him anew. "But you ask whether you should have done more," Frey continues, voice smooth as sun-warmed silk draped across bare skin. "So let me ask you something in return." A tilt of their head, curiosity sharpened by amusement.
"What, exactly, did you find so painful about a quiet little staycation with your girlfriend?"
A soft chuckle follows, affectionate rather than cruel. "You used your ring as I hoped you would," they allow, nodding once. "But that young woman was never truly lacking comfort, Zavien. Once healed, she seemed perfectly fine. Your task was to supplement the magic with your own personal touch so that you learned what you were capable of on your own, without the ring." Frey wrinkles their nose, playful and faintly chiding. "And I am not convinced you managed that part, budaboo."
They stretch then, arms lifting overhead in a languid arc, the motion entirely unselfconscious. Heat rolls off them in waves, the Longheat sun seeming to linger in every line of their body, and a small, pleased sigh escapes them as they settle again. "And when I told you to comfort someone physically," Frey adds at last, eyes gleaming as they look back down at him, "did you really think I meant a polite hug and a quick arm around the shoulders?"
