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Walter kissed Bloodhound hungrily. He could feel the skin of their face brush against his mustache. He could feel the scars on their lips against his own.
It had been a week since that night in the woods. The woods where they had both finally confessed their feelings for each other.
Tonight had been their first “official” date, though Walter would argue that they had been going on dates for quite some time.
Bloodhound had come over to his place for dinner.
Walter didn’t cook for himself often but he had gone all out, grilling up some thick portions of meat. Bloodhound had been sending him some of the choicer cuts of whatever they had hunted for a few weeks now. He had chosen some particularly nice ones for tonight.
They had talked over dinner, laughing and joking with each other. Eventually, Bloodhound had made their way out of their mask. Their goggles and respirator still sat on the table next to both of their now-empty plates and glasses.
Every time Walter saw them like this he had trouble looking away. Usually, he tried his best to be respectful.
Tonight he had let himself stare.
Bloodhound opened their mouth first to bite and suck on his lips. He gave them just as much as they gave him. His hands roamed over their body, fingers getting stuck on pockets and loops as he struggled to unclasp any buckle he could find.
Eventually, Bloodhound moved away, adjusting a strap that Walter had pulled at by their neck and accidentally tightened.
“Go to the bedroom,” They said, “I will follow you shortly.”
Walter gave them a quick kiss, “Got a plan for Ole Fusey,” He joked.
They just shooed him off and continued working on the strap.
A few minutes later Walter was sprawled across his bed—his shirt gone and his jeans artfully unzipped. His head was propped up by one hand. He felt a bit silly, like he was posing for a dirty magazine. He tried to keep a sly grin on his face, just to be ready for when they walked in, but it was faltering as his body began to feel stiff.
Just as he was getting ready to change positions, Bloodhound walked in, overcoat and tactical gear gone. They were left in just a tight, gray, sleeveless turtleneck and their baggy canvas pants. They still had their respirator off but it was in their hand, along with the attached filter.
They walked over to the bed and set the respirator on the bedside table. They then swiftly took Walter’s face in their hands and swung their leg up to straddle him. Walter’s breath left him as their weight settled on his gut.
For a moment they just looked at him. His cheeks were squished together between their rough hands and he raised his eyebrows at them, grinning as best he could despite his lips being forced together. He must’ve looked like some kind of fish.
They grinned back, fangs glinting, and leaned in to give him a soft kiss. The feeling of trying to kiss them with his face still smushed between their hands made him laugh, breaking the contact.
They tried to lean back in but he stopped them, bringing his own hands up to grab their wrists. He brought them down to the bed and placed them there. Then, he looped his arms around their neck, bringing them back down.
This time the kiss grew heated. Walter tangled his hand in their hair—the flesh one so the strands didn’t get tangled in the joints. That had happened before.
Their hand scrambled for the clasp of their own pants but Walter intercepted them. He lightly slapped their hand away and replaced it with his own, leaving the other still clutching their hair.
Walter had had a lot of practice getting people undressed, at least with the hand he suspected Maggie still had in a jar somewhere. Once he had gotten the prosthetic, he practiced on pairs of his own jeans to make sure he could still do it.
He was showing off as he smoothly undid their pants one-handed. He wasn’t sure if they noticed.
He grabbed a handful of the fabric near the back of their thighs and roughly yanked the pants down. They caught a bit on Bloodhound’s hips, but eventually settled, askew, around their knees. Bloodhound let out a little snarl of discontent into the kiss as the rough material scrapped against their skin.
They definitely noticed that.
Bloodhound was left in just their turtleneck and a pair of plain black boxers. Walter broke the kiss. They tried to recapture his mouth but he was already straining his neck over their shoulder, trying to get a good view of their ass now that it was finally free from those damned baggy pants.
His neck’s screams of protest became too much before he could get a decent look. He let his head fall back on the pillow with a defeated thud. He looked up at Bloodhound with the saddest expression he could muster. They just stared back at him—confused and unamused now that he had stopped kissing them.
“Wha-” They started.
But before they could ask what he was doing he brought both hands down and firmly groped their ass.
They yelped.
Maybe he was being too rough, but Walter had been waiting for this moment. He had spent too much time thinking about what Bloodhound’s ass might look like behind all those layers to pass up this opportunity.
He was not sensual about it, this was more like research. He pushed, pulled, and pinched their cheeks through the cloth—eyes unfocused as he tried to paint a picture in his mind.
Their ass was muscular, he expected that, but also covered with a soft layer of fat that moved with his hands. It fit so nicely in his palms. He closed his eyes with a pleased smile and hum.
Bloodhound was still not amused.
He opened his eyes and grinned at them. “Thanks, Love,” He said. And with that, he pulled his flesh hand back and gave their ass a solid smack.
They bristled, growling at him. He could see their ears going bright red in the dim light.
He didn’t get to look too long, though, as they dove for his neck with their canines bared. It was his turn to yelp and their mouth closed around his neck, just where it met the shoulder. He instinctively gripped their ass tighter like a lifeline.
He felt a bit silly when Bloodhound just gently settled their teeth against his skin.
“Oh. Ya know I don’t mind if– AH!” They bit down.
Still, they didn’t break the skin. They nipped at his neck and licked over the red, irritated indents they left behind—soothing. Then the licking became harsh sucking which then became gnawing and biting once again. They repeated the cycle for a while before it became too much for Walter and he had to gently push their head back.
His own face was red and he could almost feel the way his one pupil was blown wide. Bloodhound was panting. Their mouth was just as red and swollen as he imagined his neck was. They kneeled back, hovering directly over his stomach, and assessed the damage—pleased.
Then, they began to remove their top, shucking it off along with their compression undershirt and letting it fall to the side of the bed. Walter just stared at them, in awe, as their bare chest was revealed to him.
Their breasts were small, barely handfuls, and they sat high on their chest. There was a small patch of chest hair between them which Walter found endlessly charming. He wanted to run his fingers over the hair there and trail his finger down until they met the matching hair at their navel—maybe stay on the path, trace the dark hair even further down until-
He was getting ahead of himself.
The bite mark on his neck throbbed.
When Walter collected himself, his hands began to move on Bloodhound’s ass again. This time they traced along the hem of their underwear where it was stretched tight around their flexed thighs. His fingers barely dipped under the black material, brushing lightly back and forth against their skin.
Walter shoved one hand further under their underwear. It prodded at the hot flesh of their ass as he brought his other hand to Bloodhound’s front
Walter ground his open palm into their covered mound.
Cunt? Okay, cool. He could work with that—he could work with anything.
To be honest, when he had sensed things with Bloodhound were heading in this direction he had wanted to be prepared for anything. Bought himself a brand new (bright red) dildo just in case he needed to get back in the habit of bottoming. He hoped they’d still be interested in fucking him sometime. Couldn’t let all that hard work go to waste.
The material between Bloodhound’s legs was already damp. He let out a chuckle as he felt them begin to grind against him. Their face became even more flushed and their mouth was hanging open as they panted. He could see the light glinting off their fangs as they tilted their head back, steadying themselves with two strong hands on his thighs.
“Cunt’s so wet already. Ey, Love?” he teased, and they growled back at him.
Walter turned the hand under their boxers just slightly. His pinkie and ring finger just barely dipped past the crease of their ass and into the wet heat there. They jolted away, accidentally griding themself harder against his unyielding, metal palm. They let out a surprised moan.
Walter tore his hand out from their underwear, worried he had done something wrong. He could feel their wetness on his fingertips, they felt cool as the air of the room hit the wetted skin.
“Sorry,” They mumbled, hair falling to cover their face a bit, “I may be sensitive, I have not done this in quite a while.“
Walter grinned up at them, a bit relieved. He rested his hand back on their clothed ass.
“Not since Boone?” He asked.
They looked up at him through their hair at that, “Correct, I have not felt another’s touch in this way since his passing.” They said. They sounded serious, but not sad.
Walter tried to be respectful, but if he was being perfectly honest, he didn’t have the most favorable opinion of Boone. He didn’t like what he had done to Bloodhound. It was futile to be jealous of a dead man, but that didn’t stop the anger that simmered in Walter when Bloodhound had told him about Boone’s betrayal for the first time.
He had let go of those feelings for the most part. Boone was important to Bloodhound, and Walter knew intimately that he himself was capable of the same cruelty. Bloodhound’s comparisons of the two of them loomed over Walter’s metal shoulder. He focused all that emotion away from jealousy and into determination.
He was not like Boone—he would be better.
Still, in moments like this, he wondered if Boone was watching from the gates of Valhalla—waiting like a wet dog for Bloodhound to let him inside.
He’d have to wait a bit longer. Walter wasn’t done yet.
Walter gripped their waist, grinning, and began to roll over, knocking them onto their side. He propped himself up with a groan and made his way to his knees.
Bloodhound had not moved from where they fell. They just looked at him, scrutinizing, as he made his way over to them. He put his hand onto one of their knees and pulled it towards himself until they were rolling onto their back, legs now bent and open.
Walter smirked at them, proud of himself.
Before he got himself situated, Walter reached over to the bedside table and grabbed their respirator. He held it out to them.
“You’re gonna need this.”
Bloodhound rolled their eyes, but they took it anyway. As they situated it to hang around their neck, Walter made his way between their legs.
He waited until Bloodhound looked back at him before hooking his fingers into the loop of their boxers and slowly—so slowly—dragging them down their thighs.
Walter savored the reveal of their dark auburn pubic hair, eyes following the hair from their chest to their navel and then all the way down as more and more was revealed to him.
When all of them was finally bare, he gave up on the slow reveal, maneuvering their underwear off their legs with a utilitarian speed. He threw the boxers to the side. Halfway through the motion, he distantly remembered that there was definitely a non-zero amount of explosives in the room. It was too late though, and he winced as the boxers soared through the air.
…and landed plainly on the corner of his dresser. Phew.
He looked back at Bloodhound, grimacing. He had hoped the panic wouldn’t show on his face but judging by their expression, it definitely had.
They looked at him expectantly.
“Okay, so…there may or may not be an in-progress knuckle-cluster or two in here.” He winced again, “I can move ‘em if ya want, just give me five minutes.” He began to move away but they grabbed his wrist harshly.
“My death has already been made in Valhalla, Mitt Walter. If I am to die today,” Bloodhound lowered their eyelids hungrily at him, “So be it.”
Walter gaped, heat rising to his cheeks. Oh, the things they did to him .
“Thought I was ‘sposed to be the bad influence round here?” He laughed and swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it (more carefully) to the side.
He settled his hands back on their knees, spreading them wider.
Now, fully exposed, he could see the way their wetness clung to the hair between their legs. It had spread to their inner thighs, leaving them shiny in the low light. Their engorged clit was visible, an angry red through the dark hair.
He laid a hand on their stomach, using it as leverage as he leaned over them, placing a soft kiss right between their breasts. Not pulling away, he turned his head to look up at them.
“I’ve been itchin’ to do this ever since you told me about him.”
He could only see their eyes widen slightly as he went back to kissing them—one more to their chest before trailing his way down. Hair caught on his lips the farther down he got but he paid it no mind. Enjoyed it even.
He looked up at them one last time right before he reached his target, hands resting on the back of their thighs.
Their eyes had only widened further as he had moved farther from their face. He grinned.
Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Bloodhound reached a hand up and put their respirator on.
Walter laughed.
Finally, he buried his face in them.
He kissed their center, opened mouthed, and he could feel his nose nudge their large clit. He inhaled deeply, filling his head with the scent of their sweat and musk.
Immediately, a hand came down to grab at his salt and pepper hair. He chuckled against their sensitive flesh.
He began in earnest.
He was a man starved. He felt his mustache begin to stick to his lip as he almost ground his face into their cunt. His tongue ran the perimeter of their inner lips, stopping to work at their clit. He lapped and sucked at it until they were about to yank the hair from his head.
Their breathing had become staccato, almost wheezing. Occasionally they would let out the softest of moans—a small ah sound.
Walter had been joking before, but now he was thankful he had handed them their mask.
He backed off, circling their labia. He caught one of their folds between his pursed lips and tugged at it slightly, grinning, before moving down to their opening. He lapped at it, trying to swallow down all of their wetness.
Once he felt his entire chin was decently soaked, he returned to their clit. He ran it across the flat of his tongue before taking it fully in his mouth.
Now their sounds were louder, longer. They were moving erratically above him, almost writhing on the bed. Their thighs would tense with the desire to clamp down around his head every time he sucked at their clit especially hard. He wished they would.
This time he did not let up until their thighs did finally clap shut against his ears, squeezing. Bloodhound was trying desperately to push him away, palm on his forehead, as they let out little hiccuping noises.
Walter backed away slowly. He could feel a string of something drip viscously from his mustache and onto his chin. His tongue darted out to catch it, breaking the clear string.
Bloodhound’s breath was evening out, still audible. They were almost glaring at Walter, face red and pupils blown impossibly wide.
Their palm was still resting on his forehead, damp with both of their sweat. They gave him a small, opened-palmed, swat to the brow before taking their hand away.
“...bad,” They said through pants, like they were scolding a particularly naughty dog.
“Really?” Walter laughed, raising himself up so he was level with their face, “‘Cause I thought I was doin’ pretty alright.”
They groaned, forearm coming up to rest over their eyes, “Heimskr man.”
Walter took the moment to lean in and place a wet kiss on the snout of their respirator, chuckling.
“Now,” He said, leaning back on his knees, “Let’s see about this, ey?”
He grabbed at his sizable bulge, straining against his underwear and open jeans. His underwear was white and almost transparent where his cockhead had drooled pre-come into the fabric.
He had been messing around, grabbing his crotch, but he let out a surprised moan as he did so. He was more sensitive than he thought he’d be. He blushed.
At his reaction, Bloodhound shot up, apparently fully recovered. They pulled their mask off quickly and almost tackled him with a kiss.
It almost knocked him backward with the force of it but their hands gripped his waist, steadying him. His eye widened—groaning into them. They could definitely taste themselves, if not in his mouth, then through the wetness still clinging to his mustache. He groaned, his eyelid lowering as their hands traveled down to his ass, giving it a squeeze. They grinned into the kiss and Walter could feel their canines against his tongue.
They gave him a smack to the ass, so hard that it had him lurching into them with a yelp.
Still smirking, they snaked their hands under the waistband of his underwear and dragged them down, taking his jeans with them.
Walter pulled back, partially to just catch his breath. He stood up from the bed and took his pants the rest of the way off before joining Bloodhound once more.
They tugged him closer by the waist again, this time one hand began to travel towards his hard cock where it was pressed between the two of them. But before they could continue ravaging him, Walter brought a hand up to stop them.
“Let’s change positions,” He said, humor in his voice, “Gotta keep the joints limber, ya know?”
They sighed, disappointed at not being able to continue, but they let Walter maneuver the two of them until Bloodhound was on their back again. Walter was about to get in position himself before he paused, face lighting up.
“Oh! Hold up.” He held up a finger, “Just one second.”
And then he ran out of the room.
Not even a minute later he came back, still fully nude, cock still standing at attention. He had a geometric pillow in his hand. He held it up to show it off to them.
“You know how I was telling you about my back pain the other day? I got this so-” He stopped, “Well, I got it in case we got into this situation.” He smiled at them lovingly. “Thought maybe I’d be the one using it, but there’s always next time, right?”
“Hand me the koddi , Mitt Love,” Bloodhound said, smiling back at him from their position on the bed. They were blushing softly.
He did, and they wedged it under their lower back as Walter made his way to the nightstand.
They were almost fully settled before they noticed what he was doing.
“No protection!” Their voice rang out, unfiltered.
Walter stopped dead in his tracks, heat rising to his cheeks. “W-what? Houndy, ya sure, Mate? I really don’t mind.” He was a bit stunned at the force of their command.
Their own face was red when he looked over but they met his gaze head-on. “I would like to feel you.” They began. “I wish for you to claim me as yours, as you are mine. A-and for you to fill me… deeply and wholly.” Their composure broke slightly as they went on.
Walter just looked at them, eyes burning.
“I cannot get pregnant.” They added belatedly, like an afterthought.
In a bit of a daze, Walter made his way to the bed, “If you’re sure.”
“Fill me, Walter Fitzroy.” They smiled at him, “My mate.”
Walter smiled back as his hands came to rest on either side of their head. He rested his forehead on theirs just for a moment. Their skin was burning hot.
He leaned down and gave them one deep kiss before reaching for their mask and helping them settle it around their neck again.
He leaned back, swiping his fingers casually through Bloodhound’s heat as he did so. Even the fingers of his left hand were slightly cold from the open air and they yelped as he uncaringly brushed their clit.
Walter brought his hand down to his cock, using the collected wetness to ease the glide as he gave himself a few pumps.
“Ready?” He asked, still stroking himself.
Bloodhound just nodded, following the movement of his hand.
He smirked, moving closer again. He placed one hand by their shoulder as his other lined himself up with their entrance.
Walter let his head hang low and sucked in a sharp breath as his cock was slowly swallowed by the molten heat of their cunt.
Bloodhound growled low, now right by his ear, as he entered them—thick and hot.
When he was fully sheathed inside of them, he paused.
They stayed like that for just a moment. The room was silent except for their breaths, which curled together, hot, in the space between them. Walter could feel the body heat radiating from the two of them.
For Walter, the world ended just beyond that heat.
Bloodhound looked up at him with their brows furrowed. They shifted, doing their best to thrust up on his cock. They whined as they struggled to do anything but grind their clit into his groin.
The noise jolted Walter from his head. For a moment he just watched them. Their eyes were half-shut and unfocused as they ground into him. He felt a bit bad, unintentionally teasing them, but the desperation settling on their face was worth it.
Walter drew his hips back until just the tip of his cock rested inside of them. He could feel the cool air on his shaft. Then, he thrusted into them. Hard.
The slap of skin on skin rang throughout the room.
Bloodhound let out a long, pleased hum, right into his ear.
Walter began to pump his hips slowly, without the force of the first. He ground into them, just a bit, with each thrust, basking in the feeling of being fully inside of them each time.
Wet squelching noises filled the air each time he pulled out. At the first sound, Bloodhound almost wailed in embarrassment. Their face was impossibly red and they covered their eyes with their hands.
Walter just chuckled softly, gently bringing one of their hands away from their face. He brought it up to his mouth and placed a kiss on their scarred palm. The smallest hiccup of a laugh left Bloodhound as his mustache tickled their skin.
Walter looked down at them, face kind. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed, cunt’s just lettin’ me know how good it feels.”
He was trying to embarrass them.
Walter was about to let their hand go when he had an idea. Slowly, he brought their hand to his neck and settled their palm over the swollen, red bite mark. He let his hand rest on top of theirs.
“Squeeze.” He said.
He felt Bloodhound’s fingers move under his own as they dug into the mark harshly.
Walter almost screamed. His nails burrowed into the meat of their hand, mimicking.
His hips stuttered inside of them and it was their turn to laugh.
Almost immediately, they did it again. They were gentler this time. Saliva was gathering in the back of Walter’s throat and he could hear his strangled groan catch on it.
Walter began thrusting faster. The wet noises only got louder and Walter began to adjust his movement slightly based on the volume, trying to find the loudest angle. Two could play at this game . He grinned.
The pressure on Walter’s neck was near-constant but it increased every time Walter thrust just right or Bloodhound deemed a noise particularly embarrassing.
Walter moaned each time, as if on command.
Bloodhound’s breathing was becoming labored again and Walter leaned down to give them one last kiss before helping them adjust their mask until it was fully on.
He gave one more kiss to the snout of it, and then one to their forehead for good measure.
Their breathing was amplified now and Walter could hear every little change—every catch in their throat, every contented exhale. He smiled softly.
They moaned again as he picked up his pace, pounding into them with a force he knew they could take.
Walter could feel that the bed had become soaked beneath them both. Distantly he wondered if he had any clean sheets.
His own breaths began to come as short pants and he could feel sweat rolling down his bare back.
“Houndy, Houndy, Love, I’m gonna-“
Bloodhound wrapped their legs behind his back, heels digging into the flesh. A lazy, pleased smile crossed their face.
“Inside,” They breathed out.
Walter’s hips stuttered again.
Theoretically, he had known this was where the night was going. Still, he felt his mind go blank at the command.
He couldn’t regain his rhythm. He thrusted desperately into them, grunting, chasing his own orgasm as they clenched white-hot around him.
They were both moaning with abandon. Walter, lowly, in the back of his throat, and Bloodhound, breathy ah sounds accompanying every thrust—their noises had gotten louder, sometimes ending in something like a snarl.
At his frenzied thrusting, they let out a deep roar and clenched their legs around him, thighs flexing hard around Walter’s waist, almost painful, and closed their eyes.
With a long and low moan, Walter thrust his thick cock deep inside them, grinding in small circles.
He finally, gloriously, came inside them.
His vision when white. He could feel their walls flex in time with his pulsing cock.
He basked in it, almost delirious with pleasure for just a moment.
Slowly, he came down from that high, taking a beat to just catch his breath. He was still sheathed deep inside them.
He could feel a bead of sweat gather at his brow. It rolled agonizingly slowly down his brow, onto his nose. He watched it as it fell onto Bloodhound’s writhing stomach, a bright pearl as it caught the light.
Bloodhound was thrashing back and forth on the sheets, desperately trying to continue the stimulation. They planted their hands on the bed and used their hooked legs to grind up onto Walter’s cock.
Walter let out a hiss through his teeth, oversensitive. He placed a solid metal hand in the middle of their sternum, pressing down lightly to still them. Almost immediately, they stopped squirming.
Bloodhound panted, looking up at him.
They looked crazed, almost furious at him. He could not see their mouth, but the way their face contorted at the edges of the mask let him know that it was open in a snarl.
Walter, in his post-orgasm glow, looked at them lovingly.
They growled, thrusting up harshly, once.
Still smiling at them, Walter brought his left hand to Bloodhound’s throbbing, red clit. He began to move his fingers in slow circles.
He watched as their face relaxed almost instantly, eyes glazing over as they looked up at him.
They began to writhe again, back arching off the bed. Their moans became louder and more frantic.
Walter sped up.
Finally, they clenched down all around him. Their hand dug in into the bite mark. Their thighs squeezed at his sides. Their heels pulled him into them. Their walls spasmed around his softening cock.
Bloodhound’s hips bucked as they rode out their orgasm. Their hand moved from the bite mark to wrap their arms around Walter’s neck. They pulled him down to their face.
When they just smushed his mouth against their respirator, their moaning became a yowl and they frustratedly maneuvered him to the side, hugging him tight instead.
Walter laughed into their shoulder, giving them a gentle bite there to match his own.
They screamed, finally relaxing into the pillow. Walter stopped his assault on their clit, moving it to wrap under their arm and around their shoulder, hugging them back. He let them grind out the aftershocks into his groin, still lightly gasping.
Bloodhound finally stilled. Walter could feel wetness on his ear where it was pressed against their hot cheek and respirator. He lifted his head.
Bloodhound’s eyes were wide and wet. A single tear had rolled down the side of their face and met Walter’s own.
He wanted to kiss them, badly, but their ragged breaths were still uneven. He waited, just looking at them until their breaths deepened and their eyes refocused.
He reached up, unhooking the sides of the mask, and dragged it up and over their head.
Walter kissed them, slow and deep. Bloodhound kissed back harshly, gripping his hair tightly.
After a moment they tugged him back, breath heavy, and Walter pressed the mask gently to their face. He sealed it gently over their mouth and nose without pulling it back over their head. He held it there as Bloodhound breathed deeply and he could feel the vibrations of it through the mask, they reverberated into his palm.
“ Ég elska þig .” They said, muffled by the mask and his own hand.
“I love you too, Houndy.” He said back. His cheeks hurt from smiling.
Eventually, Walter had to get up. He handed the mask off to them and propped himself up. He winced as he slipped out of them, cool air hitting his soft cock. Bloodhound groaned as he got up, his body heat and fullness leaving them.
He chuckled, maneuvering to sit on the edge of the bed with a groan. His goddamn back .
“I’m just going to get stuff to clean up,” he said.
He didn’t move, just sat there for one more moment. His thoughts raced, repeating everything that just happened.
A minute or two must have passed before he did get up. He waddled ungracefully to the bathroom.
A moment later he reappeared in the doorway of the bedroom, holding two glasses of water, a towel, and a damp washcloth. He stood there, just looking at Bloodhound on the bed.
They hadn’t moved. They were laying on their back, legs still propped up and spread. As Walter smugly focused in on their swollen and spread cunt, he saw his own come begin to drip out of them. A glob of it was pushed out of their entrance, getting caught in the hair there and slowly falling to join the mess on the bed.
Walter flushed.
He watched them just like that for an embarrassingly long time before joining them back on the bed.
He couldn’t help but grin as he helped clean them up, handing them a glass of water. They let their mask fall to the side and took a sip, eyes barely open.
He had done this to them. Left them content and on the verge of sleep in his own bed. And they had let him.
He looked at them and they looked back, both smiling. Walter leaned in and gave them a soft kiss on the lips.
“Okay, Love, get up. I gotta change the sheets.”