He obeys, moving close enough to touch, and settles onto his knees, wings folding and tucking behind him. His eyes are bright and searching, pausing momentarily on the way the candlelight in the room flickers across Justin's bare shoulder.

The nickname makes suck in a deep breath. He wouldn't admit it, but he loved it.

"I was out running patrol on our main streets this afternoon," he replies, his voice a steady rumble, like distant thunder. He turns his cheek just so that the palm of Justin's outstretched hand presses against the pale skin of his jaw. They fit perfectly. "Then, I paid a visit to our plantations. The gyokuro leaves are coming in nicely this season, which is good news for us. Though," he clicks his tongue, "there were some...financial disagreements with the farmhands. I dealt with that of course."