(Not an official 'request' from the list, but written B/C one of the most common comments I get on my SaiMono fics (regardless of the pairing contained within) is, "More Seiran x Shuurei, please!") xD
Disclaimer: Saiunkou Monogatari belongs to its proper rights-owners. (I am not one of them).
Shuurei thrust herself against Seiran, backing him into the wall behind her elaborately carved folding screen. The tall man's back made a muffled bump as it collided with the hard surface, but luckily his head missed the ornate metal sconces hung at regular intervals that brightened the otherwise dark room. Less than half were lit that night, leaving the luxurious chamber cast in a dim, if enchanting, glow.
"Shhhh," she hissed under her breath, covering his mouth with her hand even as she watched the doorway from between the slats of the privacy screen. His breath fanned over her knuckles, and she turned to glance up at him, pleading but firm. "We can't be caught in this room. I'm not allowed to have any men attend me in this room but him; it could reveal my cover if you're here."
"Your report was late," he murmured against her fingers, trying to get her to understand why he'd smuggled himself into her private quarters in the rogue warlord's harem. She'd infiltrated it weeks ago and quickly become a favourite –much to the dismay of the other concubines. It hadn't been easy to keep her cover, investigate the criminal leader's money laundering ring, and dodge the repeated assassination attempts on her life from her fellow seraglio-mates, but she'd managed… though she had been late on a report or two. It seemed the cost of her tardiness had caught up with her, if she was being visited. Mentally sighing, Shuurei could easily guess who the guilty (and overly worried) party was.
But there wasn't time for pleasantries. Heavy footsteps sounded from down the hall and approached in slow, measured beats. Shuurei's anxiety and frustration rose.
"You'll need to hide," she decided aloud. She would never risk Seiran being hurt or caught; not when he'd only done what he did—which, while still troublesome—out of concern (perhaps his own, but mostly those of his penultimate commander). "Whatever you do—whatever you hear, or see," she amended, looking him straight in his eyes meaningfully, with no time to be ashamed, "Do not make a sound."
"My Lady—"
"Shh. Perhaps he'll pass by tonight."
With that, she stepped just far enough away from Seiran to reach over to the folding screen and re-position it so it covered more of Seiran's form, blowing out the sconce that had been burning above his head to remove any trace of his outline or shadow. With that accomplished, Seiran faded to black.
She had just barely finished when the footsteps paused outside her door just long enough to allow the master of the estate to slide the doors open, and shut again behind him.
"Where are you?" The well-dressed man called out, slipping off his outer coat and tossing it onto a settee. "You were to wait for me here—did you not receive the summons?"
Seiran held stock still, though Shuurei could feel the tension rolling off him.
Slipping surreptitiously closer to her first visitor, Shuurei prayed for a miracle. Or at least that Seiran would follow her calm lead. She reached out to take one of his large hands in hers. Just don't move, please, she begged him with a subtle squeeze.
"I did. I am changing to prepare myself for you," she lied. "What would my lord prefer I wear this evening?"
The lord's footsteps shuffled a bit closer; and Shuurei forced herself to relax. To delay him, she called out, "Or would you like to try something different this evening, my lord?"
The young man halted in his advance and seemed to consider her words. Suspicious of a trick, or possibly even foul play, he waited.
"Explain yourself. Better, show yourself," he commanded.
"I'm sorry, I'm not ready yet—"
"I don't care what you look like, come out here now."
Racking her brain, Shuurei dropped her voice, relying on the oldest trick she knew (learned from one of her earliest mentors).
"… not that kind of ready," she replied in a husky tone.
Nestled against him, body to body, she felt Seiran tense.
Even as he heard her tone changing, Seiran hadn't thought Shuurei could possibly have meant what she said. He was soon to be proven very, very wrong.
"I wanted to do something special for my lord," she continued, turning her head so she spoke in the direction of her 'master'. "I wanted to warm my lord's… bed… properly, before my lord arrived, to better welcome my lord home. You've been away over a day; I missed my lord taking care of me. Just thinking about my lord made me want to find a way to please you further."
She turned around before Seiran, her back now against his chest, so she could better project her sultry voice towards the rest of the room.
"Have I displeased my lord?"
There was the faintest pause before the man answered, slowly. "No."
"Would my lord like a gift?"
Another pause. "This is what you wanted to surprise me with? What is different?"
Her brow furrowed, and Seiran concluded Shuurei was resigning herself to having to go through with her (admittedly shaky) plan in his presence. Mind made up, she shook her head and took three deliberate steps away from Seiran, and closer to another wall sconce so she was illuminated from behind.
Through the screen, only her outline was visible to the lord.
"I want you to watch me," she explained softly.
Seiran felt his insides tighten. He'd never heard her use that tone before, let alone those words. They were affecting him.
"I want to show you how I thought of my lord, what kinds of things thinking about my lord does to me," she said.
Shuurei moved her fingers to the front of her outermost robe, and nimbly undid the clasps; it shrugged from her shoulders to slide and pool upon the richly carpeted floor.
Seiran swallowed.
Next she released the pins and jewels from her hair, letting it slip down in waves across her shoulders and back.
She ran her hands luxuriously through it, moaning softly to herself in genuine relief.
"That feels so much better."
Seiran struggled hard in his position against the wall to remain comfortable, but the rising tendrils of heat that crept through his body betrayed his more primal reaction. This was a side of Shuurei he'd never witnessed before.
Subtly angling herself to the side, Shuurei made sure the dim lighting emphasized her best features and curves. She pulled loose the ties that held her underclothes together; but instead of falling away, her palms smoothed down over her now fully matured and endowed chest. And back up. And down again, more slowly, sensually, revelling in her own body. Even limned from the dim light from behind her, Shuurei's actions were obvious. As were her physical reactions; Seiran felt a combination of shame and lust stirring as he noticed the twin tight points that had formed on her beautiful mounds, beneath her light tunic. His mouth went dry even as his eyes traced her thumbs' pathway as they circled the swelling nubs.
Under the men's gaze her breathing thickened and came heavier with each stroke; in preparation for such assignments, she had mastered her reactions and learned from one of the best in how to torture a man with pleasure—whether her own or her another's—and teasing was another form of that torment. Not that she was in a position of great power, but she had earned at least a position of great confidence; and through that, instead of influencing the warlord to do as she wanted, she had learned how to get him to open up and confide her. The physical displays and entanglements were more to relax him and put aside his stress when he visited. A feint, if you will.
She tried to focus entirely on him as she went through the slow, meandering exploration of her body before him, and ignored Seiran's presence as best she could. If she focused too much on Seiran, well…
Well…
Unwilling to face the possible meanings behind the flustered and conflicted feelings and thoughts she had with regards to Seiran, Shuurei just thought it best to ignore him. It would be too painful to ruminate on them—and dangerously confusing in that moment. This time had to be all about taking the warlord's mind off any other preoccupations, and putting all his attention on her and what she would do for him, to him. That way, he would be less alert to any other surroundings.
There was no music, but Shuurei moved with rhythm and grace. With practiced elegance, she let her hips sway before she arched her back with a low sigh of want.
If his rigid posture was any indication, the warlord was already in her hands.
He also hadn't moved from his spot on the other side of the screen; he seemed riveted by Shuurei's performance.
Knowing the man in the room had a harem, Seiran wondered fleetingly if the lord may hold true feelings for Shuurei if he was already so worked up over her. Not that he was discounting her skills, but the man seemed more interested than he'd expected. To have a full harem at his disposal, and yet to be this enraptured… yes, Shuurei had completely won him over. In only a few weeks, she had conquered the criminal the palace had spent months trying to overthrow.
It made Seiran wonder just how adept Shuurei was.
"Continue," the warlord ordered, and Seiran didn't miss the slight hitch to his eager words. His silver brow tightened at the other man's reaction.
He is definitely possessive of her. It made him angry. No one should view his Lady the way this man did.
The way he himself did.
"Thank you, my lord," she said, then shivered and muffled her voice as she touched a particularly sensitive spot. "I don't want to keep my lord waiting. Please, tell me, may I proceed?"
Seiran swallowed his own groan at her play, while Shuurei's true audience shifted slightly in his stance. Hazarding a glance in the other man's direction, Seiran made out more than he wanted and quickly turned his head away again. As guilty and dirty as it made him feel, he'd much rather watch Shuurei fondle herself than the other man with his hands where they were. And after all, from where he was standing he got to watch her unobstructed—there was no screen that separated the two of them. Had he wanted, he could have reached out to touch her himself—
A spurt of heat spread through his body at the thought, and Seiran quickly reeled in his wayward reactions like a horseman pulling his galloping mount to a skidding halt.
The lord warmed to his more participatory role, and called out, "More. Show me more. What else do you do?" –even as Shuurei's hands slipped inside her flimsy shirt. "Take that off," he ordered tersely.
Doing as she was told, the shift fell next, hanging off Shuurei's hips before sliding down her thighs and to the ground. As she straightened, she ran her hands over her inner legs, and let out a faint moan of her own as her hands brushed past the apex of her thighs.
"I missed you there most of all," she spoke wantonly to the lord. She was just turning to roll her eyes at Seiran as she said it, to convey how much of an act it was—when her eyes widened at the hungry, desperate look in his violet orbs.
Shuurei's heartbeat thudded in her chest a moment in realization. She knew that look in other men's eyes… but to see it in Seiran's—especially for her—made butterflies explode in her stomach, all giddily aflutter and trying to bat their way out at once.
It distracted her so much she almost broke cover and fumbled—and was only saved by the sudden knocking on the suite's door.
"My lord, there is a guest."
"Tell them to go away, I'll see them later!" cried the lord, his hands still firmly engaged in their business.
"My lord,…" the page continued pleading a few moments longer, and eventually the lord huffed angrily.
"We will continue this when I return," he huffed stiffly to Shuurei as he turned to leave.
"As my lord desires," she replied demurely, her hands slowing to a halt over her lower belly; her voice was hoarse, which could be taken to indicate her wanton state—or, if they truly knew her, like Seiran did, they would realise she was nervous.
The door slid shut with a resounding clack as the irritated man stomped from the room and to see who'd dared to interrupt his evening.
It was silent for a minute. Two.
Three, before Shuurei dared to swallow to try and clear her dry throat. The image of Seiran's eyes flashed in her mind again.
What… what had just happened?
While Seiran had assisted her in past assignments, never had he seen her during an encounter; never so exposed, let alone so 'expressive'. Sure, it was a shock to both of them for him to be so close to her during such an activity; but they'd both understood her position and what it occasionally entailed, when she would work undercover.
But facing it in the company of someone so personally related to her while she was in the throes of her lurid charade was unsettling to the young censor. Seiran was the person she was closest to—her best friend, her protector, her confidante. In a way, she had hoped he would never see this side of her work even while she'd held on tightly to the feeble hope that someday, perhaps things would change between them and he would want to see her differently…
Shuurei's heart thudded hard in her chest, and still she couldn't bring herself to even admit what she truly wanted.
Yet whatever she had wanted, she had not wanted it like this. Not while she performed for another man with Seiran waiting on the sidelines. That cruel turn of events made her hate her position, her role, for a second and it was hard to regain her pride in her career when she wanted to cover herself and hide in a corner, to scream at him to not look at her when she was so vulnerable and exposed like this. For so long she had wanted to grow up and become a mature woman, to serve her country and take pride in her accomplishments. To share those accomplishments with her family and be praised and adored and…
And now, part of that family was sharing the most demeaning conditions of her trade. How could someone who had half raised her be proud of her for this? Shuurei wasn't Seiran's 'Young Lady' anymore.
And while all of this realization hurt, Shuurei was most confused by the look she'd seen in Seiran's eyes a half-second ago, when she'd felt her cheeks flush with the way she'd touched herself in front of him. Never in their time together had he even alluded to having that type of interest in her. To see his reaction to her had stoked her own internal fire and it had almost been like a dream. She had instinctively felt her stomach tightening in anticipation of what it would be like to be with him, and had felt the resulting wetness double under her fingertips. Even now she felt the light throbbing aching for him.
What did that mean?
Deep inside, Shuurei knew that what she was feeling was the shift in their relationship occurring between them. No longer were they strictly retainer and mistress; in that moment, they became man and woman to each other.
And it was the worst possible time for it to happen.
She didn't know what to do about that change between them.
But she knew they couldn't do anything about it right now.
"You should have enough time to make your way out—do you remember the route?" Shuurei asked. She took a step towards him, a hand raised to usher him out—but then seemed to remember her unclothed and aroused state, and paused. She was looking at him, but unable to meet his eyes. Inside, she called herself a coward. That cowardice led her gaze to focus somewhere nearer Seiran's silver-fringed forehead.
Which was how she noticed his brow furrowing in consternation.
"My Lady—"
"You need to leave. Now," she demanded, and this time she did take his sleeve and started tugging him towards one of the passages that ran behind her suite. It was meant for servants, but it would be private enough for him that late at night to deliver him from the risk of detection.
Instead of trailing after her, Seiran took her hand and pulled her gently to a stop.
"No, My Lady, not yet. We need to—"
Determined now, she doggedly kept on. "—if you follow this passage to the end, it will branch off; take the left corridor. Stay to the left until you clear the kitchens, and then take your first left again thereafter. It will lead you outside to the far gardens after twenty or so minutes. Keep close to the walkways, there's enough shrubbery to conceal you, and then leave by the-"
Frustration building at her attempts to redirect his attention, Seiran planted his feet and grabbed Shuurei's shoulders before reaching up to cup her face in his hands.
His eyes bore into hers for a full minute as she gasped and tried to loosen his grip, and then his gaze softened and warmed as she calmed and just stared back at him.
His voice was tender. "Stop. Please."
Her struggles ceasing, Shuurei felt her heart swelling and pressure building behind her eyes.
"I don't want you to get hurt because of me."
"I won't," he promised softly, a smile gracing his lips. "I promised an eye-witness report on your current situation. Everything looks fine."
"Why are you still here, then?"
Why was he still there, he wondered.
"I can't visit My Lady?"
Offended and incensed, heat rose in her cheeks. "Of course not! At least, not here."
"Why not here?"
"Because this is where I…"
Here she tried to look away again—but with Seiran's strong hands cupping her cheeks, she was unable to and left only her eyes to wander to the side.
"My Lady?"
Squirming in his grip, she huffed, "You know why. I'm hardly a 'lady' here," she murmured. "Please don't call me that."
She could read the conflict in Seiran's eyes even when she only caught it from the corner of her own, but had no idea of the just how deeply it ran within him.
"Then… how should I address you?"
Her shoulders slumped in defeated exasperation. "Shuurei! Censor Kou! However it suits you. But I am not 'My Lady' here, at least."
"Then… Shuurei, it is," he said at last; and in her belly Shuurei felt the stronger stirrings of something sweeter and hotter twist together at hearing her name on his lips for the first time that she could remember. She wanted to keep hearing it.
Later, she promised herself. She could see him in her dreams. For now, they had to work quickly. She needed to tell him goodbye.
"Th-thank you," she raised her hands to put overtop of his, and met his gaze once more. "Thank you for understanding."
"It is novel to say your name," he admitted with a small smile. "It feels more intimate."
This time it was Shuurei who smiled ruefully, and tried to inject some humour into their strange situation. "I stand naked before you in your arms, Seiran, and you find saying my name feels intimate?" she laughed dryly, adding under her breath, "Well, I guess no matter what, I still seem to lack feminine charms. Forgive me, nee-san, I have failed you."
Seiran's hands immediately tightened on her.
"Never," Seiran said suddenly, startling Shuurei with his quiet fervour.
She quirked an eyebrow. "Hm?"
And she hadn't meant to question him or prompt him to continue, but she just hadn't been thinking, or expecting, that he would answer her.
"You lack nothing. You are beautiful, and mature and sensual—and wasted on the warlord you currently investigate. Any man would be blessed to count you as his wife or lover, and all others envious of him. Watching you, I feel-." Seiran's words broke as he pulled himself back in again, aware he was saying too much. He took a breath, closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them.
"I feel you do not give your femininity enough credit. To me, Shuurei, you are a beautiful, desirable woman."
His eyes burned into her with their passionate declaration, and Shuurei felt her breath catch in her throat. Yes, his utter sincerity was reinforcing that shift she had felt earlier. And yes, it was doing incredible things to her insides.
"To you, I'm… really?" she stumbled in her words, her fingers curling over his hands as she gripped him, refusing to let him go. A smile was breaking over her face and the tears that had threatened earlier now resurrected themselves again, but this time with a happier, more relieved cast to them.
His own shoulders relaxing, Seiran nodded once, and his fierce expression softened again.
"A perfect woman," to me, he admitted, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Shuurei let out a long breath as she considered his words. They did bolster her confidence, but…
"You've known me since I was a child, though," she added despondently; she shivered as a chill went through her. She was too exposed, both physically and emotionally. "You're just saying this to make me feel better, aren't you?" She sighed with resignation. "Thank you anyway, Seiran."
Seiran felt his heart lurch in his chest. Did she truly not realise?...
Throwing all caution and propriety to the wind, he made his decision.
"Then let me show you," he whispered, and unable to control himself any longer he pressed his lips to hers in a dizzying kiss.
With that, he took her breath away.
The place, the time, the conditions all fell away as their mouths met and their kiss went on; fire coaxed higher in their bellies and bloodstreams, and passion built where surprise and hesitation had once held them back.
As Shuurei joined in the kiss she felt her heart soaring and her fears slipping away as more and more giddy excitement and relief and comfort flowed through her veins. The kiss continued, and soon, their hands joined in, too, and Shuurei wanted nothing more than to feel Seiran's strong, caressing palms on her everywhere.
For Seiran's part, he felt an amazing sense of homecoming, of rightness in the kiss. Hesitantly at first, and then with more confidence, he trailed his hands down Shuurei's sides until they settled on her rear. With a small hoist he aligned her better against him, and ground into her. A low moan of pleasure escaped her lips, sending thrills and shivers through him.
This was how they were supposed to be.
"I've missed you so much, Shuurei," he hoarsely admitted, his voice panting between kisses.
Unable to find the words, Shuurei nearly wept from the emotions overwhelming her. "Oh Seiran."
She wrapped her arms around him in a fierce embrace, and he did the same; they pressed themselves closer until nothing separated them but the thin mesh of Seiran's dark, snug-fitting clothing.
"Come back with me, tonight," he begged. His hands had settled on the flare of her hips and he gazed down at her beseechingly.
"I can't," she fisted his hair in her fingers, her heart and duty diametrically opposed. "I still need to wait to be dismissed."
"Have you gathered the information you needed?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then it is out of your hands. We leave tonight and you will remain removed from this situation, going forward," Seiran growled. "My instructions were to check on your condition and remove you if I felt it best for you."
"You don't think your personal feelings may be clouding your judgement?"
"Not in the least, and yet completely."
With her chest nestled so comfortably against his, Shuurei felt the vibrations of his words travel down his front and against hers, warming her further.
She took a deep breath and considered her options, the consequences and potential scenarios.
It was true—they had nothing left to gain other than minor details, if she were to remain in the seraglio. And her evidence was already en route to the capital. Seiran would be a discreet escort and ensure her safe return better than anyone else, and the two of them travelling together would gather far less attention than a full imperial escort, not to mention swifter.
Plus, after waiting so long, she didn't want to miss a wonderful opportunity when it presented itself.
Reaching up, she planted a quick kiss on Seiran's lips.
"I can be ready in ten minutes. We can be home by daybreak if we hurry."
"Such a rush? You don't want to take your time?"
Shuurei refused to let her blush get the better of her at his insinuation and instead she quirked an eyebrow at Seiran. "Perhaps it will be sooner than daybreak if someone's stamina can keep up."
Seiran's expression warmed—and his smirk hinted at possibilities.
"I promise you the ride of your life, Shuurei."
There was a slight pause between them as Shuurei's eyes darkened, and she felt her legs trembling in anticipation.
"… seven minutes. I can be ready in seven minutes. Maybe five. Give me a hand with this…"
Four days later they arrived back in Kiyou, much to the supreme concern of their great ruler.
"What happened?" burst out Ryuuki upon hearing of their return.
"Raiders? Bandits? Did they pursue you? And Shuurei, you came back, too! We thought you were due to remain for—oh, We hadn't realised she was asleep. We are so sorry, ani-ue—was it so dangerous as that? Did you need to ride through the night?"
Shifting the delicately wrapped bundle of thoroughly loved Shuurei in his arms, Seiran smiled peacefully at his younger brother.
"We did indeed spend more time in the saddle than we'd expected. I think it wore poor Shuurei out."
Nodding, Ryuuki looked at them with worry in his well-meaning golden eyes. "Yes, she isn't used to that. Take her home and have her rest. We'll order that she not be disturbed until she's recovered. How long do you think she needs? A few days?"
"I believe at least a week would be best. Possibly a fortnight."
Surprised but fully cognizant of the sacrifices Shuurei so often made, Ryuuki yanked at his long hair in exasperation.
"Ah, she does so much sometimes she forgets to enjoy herself and relax. A fortnight of rest at her home, and We best not see her here until the end of her convalescence. Seiran, We task you with ensuring she does not leave her bed until that very last day."
"As your Highness wishes, I am at your command."
"Thank you. Now, go get some rest, ani-ue, you look like you were up all night riding, too."
"It was a worthwhile endeavour, your Highness, and Shuurei ensured it was a pleasant one."
"We are glad to have you both home safe. You are dismissed."
With a nod, the men (Seiran still carrying Shuurei's sleeping form) parted ways, and Ryuuki returned to his meeting with Shuei and Kouyuu.
They were fully engaged in their conference for some time before the young monarch suddenly straightened in his seat with a lurch.
"He called her 'Shuurei'!"
"Who did, your Highness?" asked Shuei.
"Seiran! He called her 'Shuurei' instead of 'My Lady'!"
"And this is relevant to our meeting how?" growled Kouyuu, his fist tightening around his brush. Shuei kept part of his attention on Kouyuu's hand, which gripped the delicate brush like a sword hilt. For a man with no formal military training, some inclination towards violence and weapons seemed to be natural to him.
"It's just… he's never done that, before. We wonder what changed?"
They sat in silence a moment; Ryuuki confused and thoughtful; Kouyuu irritated and suspicious; and Shuei gradually all-knowing.
"How did Shuurei react?" General Ran finally prompted. Yes, it was cruel and wrong, but really, who didn't enjoy riling the Emperor about his puppy-love?
"She was asleep; they rode all night to get back to the capital, and Seiran said she was so worn out she needed at least two weeks to recover."
"And is he the one guaranteeing her return to good health?" asked Kouyuu blithely, catching on to Shuei's lure. "From a trip that normally only takes half a day by horse?"
"Oh yes! It took them four days, can you believe it? The weather and bandits must have been terrible. Shuurei was so wrapped up We couldn't see an inch of her. We made him promise not to let her… leave her bed… before two weeks was up…"
A look of such horror dawned on Ryuuki's face that Kouyuu almost took pity on him.
"Well, we all know how dedicated Seiran is when it comes to the Kou family. I'm sure she'll be back fully relaxed and in fine spirits at that time."
Kouyuu snorted.
Ryuuki levelled his advisors with a glare, and said very evenly, "We hate you both."
"Yes, yes," soothed Shuei. "We know. Now, back to these border troop movements; soldiers don't like to be kept apart from their wives for too long, you know…"
"… I can't remember what day it is…"
"We still have a week and a half," huffed Seiran.
"All you did was take eight times too long to bring me home. How did you get two weeks off?"
His grin was rakish as he pulled Shuurei up against him, her back pressed firmly against his front, her knees spread wide. The bed sheets were tangled beneath them and Shuurei's nails dug deep into the covers Seiran had spread her across.
She gasped as his hand slid perfectly into place to rub against the bundle of nerves at the juncture of her thighs.
She loved every minute of it.
"What was that about getting off?" he said hotly against her ear.
"You're distracting me," she growled, tilting her head to look back at him; he countered by thrusting harder and rubbing longer strokes against her slick nub. With another harsh, gasping moan, Shuurei's head fell forward again; her forehead against the bed, she chanced a glance back, between her legs, and was fascinated all over again at the angle he entered and joined with her.
"Is it working?" he asked smoothly. He leaned further forward to kiss her throat openly.
"Ngh—Yes! Yes, don't stop!"
He chuckled and together they continued to find new and interesting ways of pleasuring each other for the next week and a half.
Well, perhaps a bit more than that; Shuurei ended up being a bit late for work that first day back.
But no one could discount the happy glow she had developed.
(Except Ryuuki.)
"You won't even share details!" he whined to Seiran one night.
Seiran just chuckled. "You can ask her."
The younger man flounced down onto the garden bench, sulking. "How about you get to be Emperor and We'll get the girl?"
"No dice."
"You're such a dick sometimes, Seiran."
Seiran just smirked and patted his younger sibling on the shoulder—as he left to meet Shuurei at home for the night.
He'd rather risk the Emperor's bad humour than his wife's, after all.
AN: Hope you enjoyed!