Oh. Oh. Sudden lap full of Tiras. For a second, Snake forgot to breathe. Almost of their own accord, his hands moved to rest on Tiras’ hips. Where else was he supposed to put them? Why did he always have to smell so good? And distracting!

Snake pouted right back at Tiras, eyes darting toward the loft where his bed sat. “I think it’s comfortable. That doesn’t mean you will.”