[ His low, ] you first, [ is little more than an excuse to answer, it's already too late and he's lost this battle, full stop. Cayde's warmth is getting to him, cocooning him in heat and familiarity and all the things he'd drunkenly decided he needed. Falling asleep with Cayde's arms around him was something he too often took for granted; here in the cold and the rain and the wet, face buried in Cayde's neck, it was a god damn indulgence.
no subject
He slept. ]