"Sin?" Jafar's voice echoed through the large room, eyes finally falling on the pile of pillows and the sheet that was all the blanket Sinbad ever slept with. "Sin, you've got to get up." When he got close enough to see the spill of violet hair around his face, and the single golden-yellow eye slightly opened and fixed on him, he let out a sigh, fingertips touching his forehead in exasperation.
It also meant that he didn't see the arm snaking out to wrap around his waist, and Jafar let out a considerably less dignified yelp than he'd like to admit as he was tugged into the pile of cushions, legs all tangled up in fabric and his own garments, shooting a dark look and a scowl in retort to Sinbad's impish grin.
"I'm not one of your concubines to be tossed about in bed," he scolded, but it was rather less effective with the flush that had crept up over his cheeks.
"Oh, come now. I'm a king, and a mere advisor isn't going to make me to do anything I don't want to..." His tone was teasing, and had he not known Sinbad's nature, Jafar might actually have been concerned. He struggled momentarily to get up, but it was hopeless with the way Sinbad had managed to pull him down. Where he lay with his back on the pillows, his legs were laying over Sinbad's, which effectively removed any leverage he had against the arm around his waist, and it was especially troublesome with the added distraction of warm breath tickling down his neck between his skin and the fabric of his headpiece...
He glanced down, green eyes meeting gold, and the smirk on Sinbad's face was enough that Jafar could tell that Sinbad knew exactly how much he was affecting the advisor. "We're going to be late," he said simply, refusing to allow anything to show in his tone.
"It's my meeting."
"With very important peo-ah!" He shoved at Sinbad's shoulder, but it did little to ease the teasing touch of lips against his jaw. "Stop it, Sin." His voice wavered, and he could feel the grin against his neck, and had only to glance slightly downward into eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Just a little longer." It wasn't a question.
Jafar didn't justify it with a reply, but it was as good as giving his leave; it had been just that often enough in the past. He managed to bite back any further sounds louder than a quiet exhalation, but his fingers tightened into a fist around the shoulder of Sinbad's shirt as teeth and lips trailed further back...
Sinbad laughed as they exited the room, and Jafar adjusted his clothing irritably, pulling the headpiece further forward to hide the darkening mark just behind his jawline.