[ He is not easily given to embarrassment, but a feeling decidedly close curls in his stomach and chest, low and hot, made worse when Viktor says his name like that. Well, at least he's not angry, or hurt, because grogginess makes him cranky and hones his already sharp edges. ]
It is a perfectly serviceable, non-exciting cock. If you've seen one, you've seen nearly any.
[ Now it's his turn to pull the covers up over their heads, wishing for the black out curtains but considering Viktor's aversion to the darkness. The blankets are an acceptable compromise. Now, all he smells is Viktor, the sheets, his flowers, the soap from last night. Dangerously, he thinks he could almost forget the outside world like this, stuck in this syrupy slow place where there's nothing outside the room.
Then, of course, Viktor stirs and Emet-Selch takes that as his cue, slowly tugging the blankets back, his robe shrugged on, shuffling sleepily toward the washbasin to heat water and wash his face in hopes that will rouse him from the fog. Why is he sore? Surely he's used some of these muscles in the past, and yet. ]
There is something we ought to discuss before I leave. [ He waits, at least, until the food is delivered, and then layers his own silence charm upon Viktor's, to be cautious. ] I've reason to believe the Ascians here do not operate in the same capacity as others or what I recall. The hero slew them, and they have since reborn.
[ He lets Viktor do the math on how old - how young they would be at this point, and starts washing his face once he's tied his hair back out of his face. ]
no subject
It is a perfectly serviceable, non-exciting cock. If you've seen one, you've seen nearly any.
[ Now it's his turn to pull the covers up over their heads, wishing for the black out curtains but considering Viktor's aversion to the darkness. The blankets are an acceptable compromise. Now, all he smells is Viktor, the sheets, his flowers, the soap from last night. Dangerously, he thinks he could almost forget the outside world like this, stuck in this syrupy slow place where there's nothing outside the room.
Then, of course, Viktor stirs and Emet-Selch takes that as his cue, slowly tugging the blankets back, his robe shrugged on, shuffling sleepily toward the washbasin to heat water and wash his face in hopes that will rouse him from the fog. Why is he sore? Surely he's used some of these muscles in the past, and yet. ]
There is something we ought to discuss before I leave. [ He waits, at least, until the food is delivered, and then layers his own silence charm upon Viktor's, to be cautious. ] I've reason to believe the Ascians here do not operate in the same capacity as others or what I recall. The hero slew them, and they have since reborn.
[ He lets Viktor do the math on how old - how young they would be at this point, and starts washing his face once he's tied his hair back out of his face. ]