One of the only good things about his extended bedrest is the lack of complicated clothing. For weeks now he's worn nothing but a loose tunic, trousers, and boots, no belts or armor or anything else to muck things up. The tunic's collar gives easily as Cullen slides his hand inside, and Garrett arches back against him, turning his head to encourage the nip at his ear.

"The worst," he says gravely. "You'd best see to me quickly."

He grinds back the heel of his hand, giving Cullen something to rub against while he works out the mechanics of the situation. There's at least plenty of "furniture" about. Some cloth, some soft-looking sacks. Surely, there's some way they can fool around, some position Garrett can get into that won't leave him a screaming, bleeding mess on the floor.

The mental image makes him wince slightly. May as well say what they're both thinking.

"I'll be careful," he says under his breath. "But I'm going to blighted die if you don't touch me. Now."