Rhys looks haunted.
“Who’s going to tell them?”
He gets nothing but avoided eye contact and silent sips of coffee in return.
“I am completely serious. Someone has to say something and it really shouldn’t be me.”
He had thought that all nine of them of them taking a weekend together in the cabin would be fun–and it had been, until he’d been kept up very late by the half-muffled sounds coming from Elain and Lucien’s room. Not of sex, per say; the cabin provides what soundproofing it can, and it should be enough for all the couples to enjoy themselves without bothering each other, but Elain and Lucien had been doing something… loud. Repeatedly.
Cassian is grinning like a maniac, amused beyond all reason. “Okay, I know Rhys is uncomfortable because he’s never done anything that actually qualifies as kinky, but does anyone else think this is hilarious?”
“I object to that profiling of my sex life, Cassian.”
“You’ve never done anything weirder with Feyre than a blindfold,” Cassian says, eyebrows raised, “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just saying.”
“A blindfold is very kinky,” Rhys asserts, affronted. Mor snorts and he ignores it, focused on Cassian. “What have you two done that’s so much more exciting?”
Nesta, sitting straight as a queen, speaks before Cassian can. “If you answer that question in front of all our friends, Cas, you will never get to do any of those things ever again.”
“We’re off topic,” Feyre announces, setting down her mug of tea decisively. “The question at hand here is who is going to tell Elain and Lucien that spanking is off-limits during their time here.” Silence. She shrugs. “I think it should be Nesta.”
“I’ll do it if you want, but it won’t go well,” Nesta replies flatly. “I have a hard time not slapping the smirk off Lucien’s face on a good day.”
Cassian brandishes a spoonful of oatmeal. “Well, apparently he’s into that, so–”
“Why not Cassian?” Rhys says pointedly, “Since, as he tells us, he’s so knowledgeable about the whole area.”
“That would mortify Elain,” Feyre says, keeping them firmly on track. “It should probably be one of the girls.” Amren, in the corner, lowers her mug of blood to look less than enthused. “It should be Mor or I,” Feyre amends.
Mor gives an casual little shrug. “The noise didn’t bother me, to be honest.”
Rhys frowns in disbelief. “Surely you heard it.”
She does not elaborate, and Rhys suddenly finds it suspicious how quiet Azriel’s been, and how he’s not making eye contact. Cassian seems to have the same thought as he glances between the two of them.
“Mother’s tits,” Cassian says, gaping. “You guys got off on it, didn’t you?”
They don’t respond, but Mor reddens incriminatingly. Cassian’s eyes go wide and he throws his head back in a howl of laugher, over Nesta’s protestations.
Amren is surveying all of them with disdain. “I have been present for some truly insipid conversations between the lot of you but I must say, this one is exceptionally awful.”
“Now THAT’S what I mean by kinky, Rhys” Cassian proclaims, wiping tears from his eyes. “Fucking to the sounds of another couple’s pain play. Cauldron. I’m so proud.”
Rhys looks long-suffering as he turns to Feyre, takes her hand, and kisses it sweetly. “I’m so sorry, darling,” he intones dramatically. “I’ve exposed you to a nest of perverts.”
“Who’s a pervert?” Elain asks with a giggle, choosing this moment to sweep into the kitchen, bright-eyed and with a sated-looking Lucien in her wake. “Are we talking about Cassian again?”
But the whole room has gone silent. Elain falters, looking from one awkward face to the next. “What’s wrong?”
When no one answers, it’s Amren who gets up and says baldly to the two of them, “Everyone from here to Velaris could hear whatever it was you were doing last night. It made these fools uncomfortable, largely. Do with that information what you will.” In the shocked silence following, she puts her empty mug in the sink, unhurried, and heads for the door. “I’m going for a walk far away from this nonsense. If anyone needs me, you are encouraged to reconsider.”
The door slams shut behind her.
“Oh,” Elain says faintly.