[ It's an earnest question. Before all this, "normal" had been his leathers for pajamas, his pack for a pillow. Rarer, a series of rented rooms, each with their own quirks - too starchy sheets in Sharlayan, too frigid for anything less than his full robe in Ishgard, too hot in Ul'dah to wear anything at all. Full pajamas and a robe and the embroidery if Alphinaud or Alisaie needed company to get to sleep. That plus a bottle of wine if it was Y'shtola or Lyse or Tataru needing to talk out their busy minds before bed.
Normal was flexibility. Normal is flexibility. Still, he does not wait for an answer. ]
When there is a bed, my preference is to sleep in linen pants. [ He returns to the work of washing, studying Emet-Selch's dips and curves. Soapy freckled fingers swipe over pale skin, and in that contrast, an impossibly old memory, his and not his, flits by dreamlike. He does not reach out to grasp the foggy deja vu feeling this time. Doesn't need to. Not when they make their own new memories here and now. He glances up, looks Hades in the eye. ] But my preference tonight is to feel you on my skin.
[ Viktor has some trouble, adhering to the task as stated. Too often does he lose track of what he should be doing and get lost in the simple joy of touching, of massaging tense muscles, of studying Emet-Selch's fingers and how much larger they are than his own.
He almost doesn't hear the last comment, but it makes both ears twitch with sudden focus. A huff of laughter escapes him, and he arches a brow at Hades, incredulous. ]
You will be cautious. [ A faint grin, fearless. He recalls quite clearly what Emet-Selch references. He does not care. ] I will be a-s-sleep.
no subject
[ It's an earnest question. Before all this, "normal" had been his leathers for pajamas, his pack for a pillow. Rarer, a series of rented rooms, each with their own quirks - too starchy sheets in Sharlayan, too frigid for anything less than his full robe in Ishgard, too hot in Ul'dah to wear anything at all. Full pajamas and a robe and the embroidery if Alphinaud or Alisaie needed company to get to sleep. That plus a bottle of wine if it was Y'shtola or Lyse or Tataru needing to talk out their busy minds before bed.
Normal was flexibility. Normal is flexibility. Still, he does not wait for an answer. ]
When there is a bed, my preference is to sleep in linen pants. [ He returns to the work of washing, studying Emet-Selch's dips and curves. Soapy freckled fingers swipe over pale skin, and in that contrast, an impossibly old memory, his and not his, flits by dreamlike. He does not reach out to grasp the foggy deja vu feeling this time. Doesn't need to. Not when they make their own new memories here and now. He glances up, looks Hades in the eye. ] But my preference tonight is to feel you on my skin.
[ Viktor has some trouble, adhering to the task as stated. Too often does he lose track of what he should be doing and get lost in the simple joy of touching, of massaging tense muscles, of studying Emet-Selch's fingers and how much larger they are than his own.
He almost doesn't hear the last comment, but it makes both ears twitch with sudden focus. A huff of laughter escapes him, and he arches a brow at Hades, incredulous. ]
You will be cautious. [ A faint grin, fearless. He recalls quite clearly what Emet-Selch references. He does not care. ] I will be a-s-sleep.