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Summary
"You- better not fucking drop me." Phil breathed, and even that small motion of dismounting a horse had left him sucking in air, his vision worming its way across his eyes and skull, on the verge of a headache but with notes that felt a little more visceral. Dizzy, that was the word he was looking for. He was dizzy. "I'll never let you back in the house if you do."
"Si, claro." Missa grunted, slowly but steadily working his way inside. "And I will deserve it, to be sure. You- you still have the couch?"
"In the same place it's always been." Phil said flatly, but there was a fondness in him too- fuck, he was getting soft.
i.e. after almost a year apart, two partners find each other again