"Sorry I'm not so well-versed on your ridiculous culture from literally hundreds of years ago. Why don't you make some references from the last hundred years, huh?" Wash grumbled with what could only be described as a petulant twist to his mouth. It was hard to picture the deadly serious Agent Washington as pouting but he sure was pretty damned close to doing that exact same thing right now.

He was semi-hard but the slow rock of Tucker's hips grinding them together like that threatened to bring him to full hardness. The quietest of gasps escaped the former Freelancer and the full body shudder that went through him betrayed just how much he'd enjoyed that.

"Thus implying I like you when I'm sober?" Wash asked blandly with all the deadpan humor in the universe. "It's not like that, I just don't think either of us are in a place right now to be making drunken decisions." He kept talking even as Tucker kissed his way around his face while alternating between each dimple.

"Yes, I'm aware but I fail to see how that is relevant." The tips of his ears were beginning to grow pink with embarrassment. He eased the rest of his weight down on Tucker, just freeing up his hands and he wasted no time in moving to capture the younger man's jaw between his hands so that he could hold Tucker still long enough to kiss him firmly. "Please stop taking."