Nikolai caught the assassin's wrist, pulling him closer, close enough to fall right into his arms. Angelo came easily, his fruity, dark scent was still on his skin, but he also brought with him clean sea salt and ocean breeze.
He deftly tied up the ribbons, Angelo sitting on him with his back to him so that he could do up the ties behind his neck. He pressed a kiss to the Omega's nape before covering it up, letting Angelo get off him.
Nikolai watched him brush out his hair with practised motions, torn between appreciation for his outfit, and displeasure that his mark was covered up. The dark red of the satin shirt contrasted perfectly with the assassin's pale skin, giving him an air of danger no less deadly than when he was in tactical clothing, fully strapped up.
