"The weather outside," Ioan informs the sound system, "is fucking awful."
Hugh's laugh comes through from the speakerphone. "It's not that bad."
"You're stuck at the airport. It is that bad," Ioan says. "I can't believe you're missing our actual anniversary because of this. What is this, a Richard Curtis film?"
"If it were," Hugh says dryly, "I would be on the other side of the door, instead of sipping a terrible drink in a first class lounge."
"You're right. I'd much prefer this were a film." Ioan flicks the remote, lowering the volume. "There, song's over, and so's the playlist. You're a sadist, Hugh."
"I try," Hugh says. "I'm happy you approve of my methods."
"How's your cock?" Hugh asks conversationally, like he's lying in bed, watching Ioan hurting himself for him, and not like he's stuck at the fucking airport during a snow storm.
It figures. Ioan finally let Hugh marry him, and now Hugh's missing their anniversary. And they'd had plans, too. Ioan was supposed to be getting the scene of his dreams. "Hurts like it's about to fall off," Ioan says. "Please say I can keep going."
"Of course you're going to keep going. You're going to keep going until your hand is aching, until you've worn through every single toy, until your cock is actually falling off, and even then you're going to keep going. You're not allowed to come until you're licking my boots. And even then, I might make you wait a little while longer. You're beautiful when you're hurting for me, and it is a sight I intend to enjoy."
Ioan closes his eyes and groans. Okay, so it isn't the scene of his dreams. But this is good, too. And it'll be even better when master finally shows up.