[ Hades wars with himself again. Viktor can feel it, in their mingled aether, in the storm cloud that seems to settle over him. Distraction had afforded his mind a brief ceasefire, but a thousand, thousand years of duty and disgust will not be conquered so easily. And so, Viktor focuses on washing, first up and behind his ears - which he finds plainly fascinating, and does not bother to hide the smirk that spreads across his face as he works - then down each arm, to his fingers, scrubbing diligently, allowing himself the distraction of working knots out of muscles with his fingers - as much a massage as actual cleaning. ]
Ah! Better for the heart, to get worked up from time to time. And roughly twice as fun, I reckon, depending on the b-book. [ He cuts his gaze up as he drags the washcloth over Emet-Selch's clavicles, his pleasant smile breaking with a snort of laughter into an impish grin. ] If you miss it s-so much, the next time you find your head between my legs, mayhap I'll try my hand at reading to you while you work.
[ Surprise writes itself across his features when Emet-Selch presses closer. He falls silent, wraps his arms around Emet-Selch's back to clean there, and indulges in leaving a line of gentle, lingering kisses from the edge of one shoulder, down the length of Hades's clavicle as he works. It will take ages to memorize the shape of him as much as he'd like - he does not intend to waste any opportunity to study. Not ever again.
Viktor leans back only once a question has been asked of him, and does not answer right away. He watches, listens, and most importantly tries not to let that sinful little smirk, the sharp fireplace crackle of Hades' voice reignite the embers banked in his own belly. It feels a little like a limb that's fallen asleep, fine when it is numb and nothing, startlingly sharp when it starts to come to life again. And almost frightening, how readily desire sparks in him. Like there is something hanging just outside of view, waiting to call down retribution if he wants too much in too short a time - something that will take Hades from him. And stars, he does not know how his heart would manage that.
And yet, in spite of his fear, it is all too easy to get tangled up in Emet-Selch's little fantasy - to know that he, too, had daydreamed of their bodies pressed together long before it had been a possibility. Viktor thinks of discarded clothes, of that cramped little bath, clouded with steam, surrounded by leaves and vines. Heavens, he cannot wait to be home again, to scamper up to their little tub and press even closer for lack of extra legroom. That Viktor had posed his own question, that it sits unanswered still, goes wholly forgotten.
A breathy laugh escapes him, and on its tails, the start of an admission, ]
I thought-
[ He carries himself over each sound with too much care, but catches himself, sounding like a child being scolded, and after a breath, soldiers on with more confidence. ]
'Twas my belief that your baths were meant to give you p-privacy. At best, that you needed the distance. And I've less than no interest in... imposing myself upon someone who does not want me. However- [ Viktor leaves the wash cloth floating in the water, sloshes forward, mindful of Emet-Selch's tea cup, to drape both arms over his shoulders. ] -I fear you will know very little peace, going forward. I may have f-failed in a quick surprise, but I can more than make up for it with a slow descent into madness.
[ Viktor kisses him, once, twice, three times, achingly light brushes of lips along his jaw, up to his mouth. Grin renewed, against Emet-Selch's lips, he murmurs. ]
Conjure me a chamomile tea, or I fear I will have you awake 'til our lessons would've begun, anyway.
LMAO I knew what you meant at least sob
Ah! Better for the heart, to get worked up from time to time. And roughly twice as fun, I reckon, depending on the b-book. [ He cuts his gaze up as he drags the washcloth over Emet-Selch's clavicles, his pleasant smile breaking with a snort of laughter into an impish grin. ] If you miss it s-so much, the next time you find your head between my legs, mayhap I'll try my hand at reading to you while you work.
[ Surprise writes itself across his features when Emet-Selch presses closer. He falls silent, wraps his arms around Emet-Selch's back to clean there, and indulges in leaving a line of gentle, lingering kisses from the edge of one shoulder, down the length of Hades's clavicle as he works. It will take ages to memorize the shape of him as much as he'd like - he does not intend to waste any opportunity to study. Not ever again.
Viktor leans back only once a question has been asked of him, and does not answer right away. He watches, listens, and most importantly tries not to let that sinful little smirk, the sharp fireplace crackle of Hades' voice reignite the embers banked in his own belly. It feels a little like a limb that's fallen asleep, fine when it is numb and nothing, startlingly sharp when it starts to come to life again. And almost frightening, how readily desire sparks in him. Like there is something hanging just outside of view, waiting to call down retribution if he wants too much in too short a time - something that will take Hades from him. And stars, he does not know how his heart would manage that.
And yet, in spite of his fear, it is all too easy to get tangled up in Emet-Selch's little fantasy - to know that he, too, had daydreamed of their bodies pressed together long before it had been a possibility. Viktor thinks of discarded clothes, of that cramped little bath, clouded with steam, surrounded by leaves and vines. Heavens, he cannot wait to be home again, to scamper up to their little tub and press even closer for lack of extra legroom. That Viktor had posed his own question, that it sits unanswered still, goes wholly forgotten.
A breathy laugh escapes him, and on its tails, the start of an admission, ]
I thought-
[ He carries himself over each sound with too much care, but catches himself, sounding like a child being scolded, and after a breath, soldiers on with more confidence. ]
'Twas my belief that your baths were meant to give you p-privacy. At best, that you needed the distance. And I've less than no interest in... imposing myself upon someone who does not want me. However- [ Viktor leaves the wash cloth floating in the water, sloshes forward, mindful of Emet-Selch's tea cup, to drape both arms over his shoulders. ] -I fear you will know very little peace, going forward. I may have f-failed in a quick surprise, but I can more than make up for it with a slow descent into madness.
[ Viktor kisses him, once, twice, three times, achingly light brushes of lips along his jaw, up to his mouth. Grin renewed, against Emet-Selch's lips, he murmurs. ]
Conjure me a chamomile tea, or I fear I will have you awake 'til our lessons would've begun, anyway.