[ Silly is not a word often used to describe him, but there is, he supposes, a first time for everything. A far more suitable word for Viktor, who seems not just to delight in the levity but actively relish it. Blessedly, there is no comment about the use of magic, no inquiries about why, if he had the power to make the room a little less cold and miserable, he had not adjusted the temperature until Viktor had arrived.
But then, Viktor seems awfully distracted by him. He was, and is, relatively attractive for a given meaning of the word. Enough so that he'd had no shortage of people seeking courtships until he had been firmly off the table and even then, found himself complaining to Aepymetes or Hythlodaeus about those who were unsatisfied with a rejection - as if they could ever hope to match the two of them in any meaningful capacity. It is, he thinks, not wholly unpleasant to be wanted so viscerally, so obviously. Certainly less disagreeable than he had anticipated.
I've never, I usually-. Emet-Selch lets him work through the response he wants to give on his slow prowl from bath to bed once he's considered the room and snapped into place a rug, massive enough to provide ample warmth instead of bare feet on cold stone to the bathroom later. Only then does he pad across the distance to the other man, considering the warm flush to his skin, the scatter of freckles and the insane desire to ensure he doesn't leave this room without kissing each of them. ]
I had assumed. [ Mildly, not judgmental, exactly, but there is a tone there; judgmental of those who came before, maybe.
Of course, others had not cared for Viktor in the same way. Of course, they were more concerned with the petty day-to-day or even pettier wants than Viktor's own. Emet-Selch leans in close enough to graze a kiss against the furrowed brow, rewarded with the warmth of Viktor's smile, far eclipsing any magical heat he could muster. Mine, as gods have worshippers. Mine, as a hound's master.. It is, he thinks, not so horrible to be kept, to belong to someone so inextricably that it has lasted countless lifetimes and souls. ] I was clear that night, was I not?
[ Gingerly, he hooks two fingers into the front of Viktor's towel, not pulling but there is a tension, the threat, or maybe promise of removing it. ]
You give until you've nothing left to give. What I desire is for you to reach out with both hands and to take.
no subject
But then, Viktor seems awfully distracted by him. He was, and is, relatively attractive for a given meaning of the word. Enough so that he'd had no shortage of people seeking courtships until he had been firmly off the table and even then, found himself complaining to Aepymetes or Hythlodaeus about those who were unsatisfied with a rejection - as if they could ever hope to match the two of them in any meaningful capacity. It is, he thinks, not wholly unpleasant to be wanted so viscerally, so obviously. Certainly less disagreeable than he had anticipated.
I've never, I usually-. Emet-Selch lets him work through the response he wants to give on his slow prowl from bath to bed once he's considered the room and snapped into place a rug, massive enough to provide ample warmth instead of bare feet on cold stone to the bathroom later. Only then does he pad across the distance to the other man, considering the warm flush to his skin, the scatter of freckles and the insane desire to ensure he doesn't leave this room without kissing each of them. ]
I had assumed. [ Mildly, not judgmental, exactly, but there is a tone there; judgmental of those who came before, maybe.
Of course, others had not cared for Viktor in the same way. Of course, they were more concerned with the petty day-to-day or even pettier wants than Viktor's own. Emet-Selch leans in close enough to graze a kiss against the furrowed brow, rewarded with the warmth of Viktor's smile, far eclipsing any magical heat he could muster. Mine, as gods have worshippers. Mine, as a hound's master.. It is, he thinks, not so horrible to be kept, to belong to someone so inextricably that it has lasted countless lifetimes and souls. ] I was clear that night, was I not?
[ Gingerly, he hooks two fingers into the front of Viktor's towel, not pulling but there is a tension, the threat, or maybe promise of removing it. ]
You give until you've nothing left to give. What I desire is for you to reach out with both hands and to take.