Joel walked to the carriage with Noel in his arms.
He held him so tight. The grip wasn't gentle, but the grip of someone who had picked something up and had no intention of putting it down until he was ready to.
The wind had picked up since they entered the palace. It was cold, and it almost suggested that it was going to rain by evening. Against it, Noel's body felt strange. It was light, warm, too warm, as if he were running a fever that had nothing to do with illness.
The smell of cum reached Joel before they got to the carriage.
He said nothing except frowning. He pulled the door open and climbed in with Noel still in his arms and sat with Noel across his lap and pulled the door shut behind him hard enough that the whole carriage frame shuddered.
He looked at Noel's face.
He was still unconscious. Not the sleep-unconscious of someone who had simply tired out. It was like his whole body had shut down. His breathing was even and the colour on his face was wrong.
