Nowthat, Sage decided, was a view.
Hidden beneath his clothes, Mr.Moore was muscled in every way that a man could be.Sage remembered faintly that he did some sort of physical work for a living.It was quite evident.He tilted his head slightly and did not look away as Mr.Moore folded his shirt and put it in the bag, too.Perhaps this was what all human men looked like naked?He had never seen one before.
Sage stood lithely from the ottoman as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.This was certainly an unexpected surprise.It took little effort for the silk of his banyan to slide from his bare shoulders and all the way to the floor.He stepped out of the puddle of fabric and left it there.
“No problem at all,” he confirmed airily.
Sage had given up wearing nightclothes the moment he was old enough to protest them.The convenience of such a decision only became more apparent with time and a more mature shift in his nighttime activities.
As a drunk might reach for their tankard, Sage took a half-step back and reached for a smaller jar of oil than the one he’d been using before.The scrape of glass against the polished wood of the dressing table as he picked it up finally made Mr.Moore look at him, but only briefly, as he climbed under the covers they were about to share.
Anticipation of something—someone—new had Sage’s pulse fluttering a bit more than he might’ve expected.Certainly he had not come all this way thinking he might actually get what he truly wanted, but he had learned long ago to never be unprepared.
Sage made a small show of peeling the sheets back.He placed one knee on the mattress, slowly shifted to the other, and then reclined onto his hip and elbow facing Mr.Moore.With a coy smirk, he held the jar out for him to take.Most men were plenty happy to allow him to apply the oil, but he always liked to offer.
Mr.Moore glanced at the jar and then flicked a small but polite grin at Sage.
“Oh, no thank you.It smells lovely, though.Roses always do.”
Sage huffed out a breath of a laugh.So that’s how it was going to be, then.
He was not opposed to games.With the right partner, a little teasing could be quite enjoyable.Just as Sage opened his mouth to say as much, Mr.Moore leaned in the opposite direction, nearly so far that he might’ve toppled out of the bed, and blew out the candle on his side table with a sharp puff of an exhale.Then, he turned fully onto his side, bunched up his pillow, and let out a content sigh as he relaxed into it.
Sage remained perfectly still for a moment, staring at the man’s back.
He was…going to sleep?
Sage’s surprise melted into outrage.With a heavy scoff, he shifted his weight off his elbow and collapsed back against his own pillow for a few seconds.Then, with hot, jerky movements to match his foul mood, he sat up, set the jar of oil on his side table with asmack, and blew out his own candle.
In his effort to wrench the covers up over himself, he caused Mr.Moore to stir and resettle beside him, entirely unbothered by all the commotion.Sage’s jaw clenched as he drew in a deep breath.
His heart seized.
The smell of lavender soap—the same kind Wyndham always used—hit him with force.He glared over at Mr.Moore in the dark.Of course the man would’ve had to borrow soap to bathe with.With a sob of frustration, Sage rolled onto his opposite side and squeezed his eyes shut.
