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Just a little longer, Bo’.
There is a question burning on that tongue. Maybe a protest stemming from the stream of raindrops pouring down around them. Whatever it is, Nori can almost taste it, and still he will not relent. Twice they’d nearly separated, but the thief held fast, clinging to Bofur’s collar an iron grip. Tipping his head and flicking his tongue along the seam of their lips. Thus far, it worked like a charm. He’d kept Bofur’s attention well enough, and silenced the confusion that might give him away. Once the threat had passed, he would explain in full. His friend deserved that much for playing along, despite his surprise and the storm relentlessly showering over them.
His pursuers frantic yells were closer now; should he peer over Bofur’s shoulder, surely he would see the trio trudging stampeding through the muddy street. But he doesn’t. He knows better. There can be no falter in his cover, else they might pick up the change and zero in on the both of them. Perhaps that is a small comfort, knowing that if he were to go down, he would not do so alone, as the guards were likely to grab Bofur, too, for allegedly hiding the thief.
For once, however, he has no intention of dragging a friend into his mess, so no peeking. Instead, his back presses tighter to the wall of the tavern, jerking Bofur’s tunic to draw him impossibly closer. Lips part further as invitation, a distraction; bribery to keep attention focused on him and not the splatter of boots through puddles and mud, barely audible over the storm’s ambiance. A low hum sounds in his throat, hands clutching and tugging for purchase; though the sudden kiss was meant only as a distraction, it is a rare treat. A gift in which he’d indulged all too infrequently and thus, he has every intention of clinging to the moment.
Savoring it, as it were.
But in time - far too soon, in his good opinion - angry hollers fade into the distance, until he hears them no more. Only then does he relinquish his hold, with no small reluctance, and allow Bofur the freedom he’d sought before. There’s a grin curling Nori’s reddened lips, a mark of both pride and his own, twisted amusement, and as they move apart he has to take a moment to admire the trails of rain water streaming down Bofur’s cheeks. Quite becoming, it is; he’ll admit that much, if only to himself. “Now, I could be wrong here – “ he breathes, his voice raised just so to drown out the patter of rain around them. “ – but I think y’ just made yourself an accomplice.”