Another unintelligible noise.
Grayson's arms tightened around him, and he rubbed his cheek against Neville's neck in a gesture that was supposed to be sniffing his pheromones but felt more like a very large cat demanding attention.
"I have a knife at hand."
A grumble that might have been 'don't care.'
"You'll really get a cut if you don't put your hands away."
A huff that definitely meant 'still don't care.'
Neville sighed, accepting his fate. He carefully reached behind him to put the knife away and adjust the heat on the stove. Then resigned himself to being a human teddy bear for this lovable Grayson.
"You know," he said casually, "this wasn't exactly in my job description."
Grayson pulled back just enough to look at him, those silver eyes finally showing some signs of waking up. He looked grumpy and utterly bewildered at my words.
