[ With a bit of frustration, he thinks there's very little that could convince him not to do that again if asked, save for Viktor deciding that he was done with Emet-Selch. He'd like to pretend he's a stronger man than he is, but he is sentimental to the last, and relentlessly greedy, even if Viktor would never actually call it that.
He thinks they're going to doze a few moments, until the next knock upon the door comes, but Viktor snuggles in close, winds them together near-inextricably, and Emet-Selch frowns down at him, attempting to figure out the likelihood of Viktor dozing off and forgetting to remove the silence charm upon the door. Not so drowsy he can't plot about this future they are working toward, though, so Emet-Selch allows them to linger beneath the sheets and blankets and doesn't wrench himself clear yet. ]
'Tis not so large we could not move it. [ They'd intended such a thing, in one of many potentialities. A way to deal with the damage wrought, that which they did not have as readily accessible the first time the world ended. That Eden would be used for the same purpose, just...in a different capacity, does not sting how he anticipates.
He knows he has been more exhausted countless times before, but each and every time before for the last several thousand years, his bed was not so warm, his hands were not so full. He is, frustratingly, as weak as every other man who has been foolish enough to love someone. ]
If you've a mind for reciprocation, I've no interest. [ Oh, he can almost feel Hythlodaeus cringing. Emet-Selch sighs into Viktor's curls, allowing the lazy kisses against his fingers. He cannot pretend Viktor nude and warm and affectionate doesn't have some physical impact on him, but much as he would very much enjoy allowing himself to be distracted once again, to do so is an impossibility. Not when he knows what awaits in the next bell or two. Not until he knows who. ] As distracting as you would be, my mind would be elsewhere and not on a subject half as appealing. When we've finished here, mayhap.
[ Gingerly, he does shift his hips back to at least make his interest a little less obvious. ]
no subject
He thinks they're going to doze a few moments, until the next knock upon the door comes, but Viktor snuggles in close, winds them together near-inextricably, and Emet-Selch frowns down at him, attempting to figure out the likelihood of Viktor dozing off and forgetting to remove the silence charm upon the door. Not so drowsy he can't plot about this future they are working toward, though, so Emet-Selch allows them to linger beneath the sheets and blankets and doesn't wrench himself clear yet. ]
'Tis not so large we could not move it. [ They'd intended such a thing, in one of many potentialities. A way to deal with the damage wrought, that which they did not have as readily accessible the first time the world ended. That Eden would be used for the same purpose, just...in a different capacity, does not sting how he anticipates.
He knows he has been more exhausted countless times before, but each and every time before for the last several thousand years, his bed was not so warm, his hands were not so full. He is, frustratingly, as weak as every other man who has been foolish enough to love someone. ]
If you've a mind for reciprocation, I've no interest. [ Oh, he can almost feel Hythlodaeus cringing. Emet-Selch sighs into Viktor's curls, allowing the lazy kisses against his fingers. He cannot pretend Viktor nude and warm and affectionate doesn't have some physical impact on him, but much as he would very much enjoy allowing himself to be distracted once again, to do so is an impossibility. Not when he knows what awaits in the next bell or two. Not until he knows who. ] As distracting as you would be, my mind would be elsewhere and not on a subject half as appealing. When we've finished here, mayhap.
[ Gingerly, he does shift his hips back to at least make his interest a little less obvious. ]