Now, though, Galen's characteristic confidence had given way to a sudden uncertainty that she actually found quite a bit more charming. He was clearly either surprised at his own success or else that Sparrow rather than Frost had been the one to instigate this; whatever it was, though, he was obviously thrown by the entire thing, eager and anxious for the first time since she'd met him. How Frost could stand it, Sparrow didn't know; in his obvious excitement, Galen seemed for the first time to truly be a young man, younger even then her, and considering Frost's incredible discomfort with that little fact, there was something amusing in the idea of rubbing that in at some point.
Not tonight, though. The last thing she needed now was for Frost to decide he didn't want to go through with this; she doubted he'd actually try to back down from it--even after three years, he was still going out of his way to do whatever he could to appease her, after all--but she didn't want to give him any excuse to try.
As it was, though, Frost didn't seem to be having any reservations just yet. If anything, he was thrilled; for all he had seemed a bit silently disapproving of her relationship with Kieran (no doubt because he suspected quite rightly that it had more to do with her grief over Simon's death than she would've like to admit), this he seemed genuinely satisfied with, albeit fairly surprised. It didn't hurt, of course, that Galen had made it so clear in the past that Frost was the one he was truly after.
As the three of them stepped into the suite, Galen looked wholly overwhelmed with what was happening. Sparrow was in front of him, leading him by the hand into the bedroom, while Frost followed behind; Galen kept glancing back at him, as if he had to keep reminding himself that he was actually there--that this was actually happening--and when Frost closed the door behind him, Sparrow didn't waste a moment in turning back to face them both. She advanced on Galen, one hand still in his while the other pressed flat against his chest; she pushed him backward as she drew in close, and Galen let out the faintest little moan of anticipation as Frost's hands fell to his hips from behind and pulled him back against him. She leaned forward to kiss him, and his arms encircled her, one hand slipping out of her grasp and moving on the small of her back while the other settled where her neck met her jaw. Behind him, Frost reached up to brush his mane of red hair from his neck, and when the older man's lips brushed against his skin, he groaned into Sparrow's mouth. She laughed, teeth scraping gently over his lower lip before finally pulling back.
"Bed?" she asked, her eyes on Frost, but Galen was the one who answered her.
"Pax, yes," he breathed, and behind him, Frost laughed.
Sparrow stepped back, disentangling herself from Galen's embrace as Frost urged him forward. Galen moved eagerly, grabbing Sparrow by the arm and pulling her along in a rush, though she was quite sure it was out of no particular eagerness to have her. But he seized her again as they neared the bed, drawing her into his arms and kissing her again as Frost kept pushing them insistently forward. Sparrow felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the mattress, and she let herself fall back onto it, pulling Galen down with her.
His body bowed over hers, a hand on the mattress on either side of her, his long hair brushing against her skin as he kissed her. She couldn't see Frost behind him, but she could hear his muffled footsteps atop the carpet; he moved around the bed, and she felt it dip further up as he sat down a few feet away. Breaking the kiss, Sparrow craned her neck back to look at him; he was watching them both, and he smiled as her gaze met his. "Don't let me interrupt."
Three [2/?]
Not tonight, though. The last thing she needed now was for Frost to decide he didn't want to go through with this; she doubted he'd actually try to back down from it--even after three years, he was still going out of his way to do whatever he could to appease her, after all--but she didn't want to give him any excuse to try.
As it was, though, Frost didn't seem to be having any reservations just yet. If anything, he was thrilled; for all he had seemed a bit silently disapproving of her relationship with Kieran (no doubt because he suspected quite rightly that it had more to do with her grief over Simon's death than she would've like to admit), this he seemed genuinely satisfied with, albeit fairly surprised. It didn't hurt, of course, that Galen had made it so clear in the past that Frost was the one he was truly after.
As the three of them stepped into the suite, Galen looked wholly overwhelmed with what was happening. Sparrow was in front of him, leading him by the hand into the bedroom, while Frost followed behind; Galen kept glancing back at him, as if he had to keep reminding himself that he was actually there--that this was actually happening--and when Frost closed the door behind him, Sparrow didn't waste a moment in turning back to face them both. She advanced on Galen, one hand still in his while the other pressed flat against his chest; she pushed him backward as she drew in close, and Galen let out the faintest little moan of anticipation as Frost's hands fell to his hips from behind and pulled him back against him. She leaned forward to kiss him, and his arms encircled her, one hand slipping out of her grasp and moving on the small of her back while the other settled where her neck met her jaw. Behind him, Frost reached up to brush his mane of red hair from his neck, and when the older man's lips brushed against his skin, he groaned into Sparrow's mouth. She laughed, teeth scraping gently over his lower lip before finally pulling back.
"Bed?" she asked, her eyes on Frost, but Galen was the one who answered her.
"Pax, yes," he breathed, and behind him, Frost laughed.
Sparrow stepped back, disentangling herself from Galen's embrace as Frost urged him forward. Galen moved eagerly, grabbing Sparrow by the arm and pulling her along in a rush, though she was quite sure it was out of no particular eagerness to have her. But he seized her again as they neared the bed, drawing her into his arms and kissing her again as Frost kept pushing them insistently forward. Sparrow felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the mattress, and she let herself fall back onto it, pulling Galen down with her.
His body bowed over hers, a hand on the mattress on either side of her, his long hair brushing against her skin as he kissed her. She couldn't see Frost behind him, but she could hear his muffled footsteps atop the carpet; he moved around the bed, and she felt it dip further up as he sat down a few feet away. Breaking the kiss, Sparrow craned her neck back to look at him; he was watching them both, and he smiled as her gaze met his. "Don't let me interrupt."