Ben went over and found his bag, and took out a few items, and came over to the bed. The tall swoop of sleigh-style wood waved at them in welcome; embroidered green and white pillows perked up in shared anticipation. Ben folded back sheets, moved pillows, while Simon waited patiently on the floor; at his gesture, Simon flowed up and knelt on the bed, becoming a sculpture of gilt and ivory and curious bits of sapphire and that pink inviting mouth, and waited. Obedient.
Ben spun rope—blue and silky and heavy, bought because it’d matched his husband’s eyes and he hadn’t been able to resist—in a small circle, wove it around a hand, let Simon watch it. “Not the most useful bed. Nothing good to tie you to.”
“Please,” Simon began, and stopped.
“Please what?” He reached out, lifted that chin, l
