[ Iorveth is, as he'd said, soft. It's entirely contradictory to what he would've expected all those tendays ago when he'd propositioned Iorveth. He'd have expected something perfunctory, fast, without sentimentality. Like Iorveth had described it: sport. It's a shocking difference now, Iorveth's sweetness on full display in a way that he's still getting used to being the recipient of.
'Reciprocation' is still a foreign concept, albeit not an unpleasant one. In the past, he would have insisted on keeping the pleasure singularly to his partner, hesitant to be touched more than strictly necessary. There's still a sense of intimidation to it, the fear of being vulnerable with another person, but there's excitement, too. Iorveth is a risk worth taking.
His jacket remains on, hanging open, undressing forgotten about for the moment while his hands have more interesting things to do. He reaches down to press the heel of his palm over Iorveth's groin, feeling the warmth through the fabric of his smallclothes, which, honestly, should already be off by now. Something he'll have to remedy. ]
no subject
'Reciprocation' is still a foreign concept, albeit not an unpleasant one. In the past, he would have insisted on keeping the pleasure singularly to his partner, hesitant to be touched more than strictly necessary. There's still a sense of intimidation to it, the fear of being vulnerable with another person, but there's excitement, too. Iorveth is a risk worth taking.
His jacket remains on, hanging open, undressing forgotten about for the moment while his hands have more interesting things to do. He reaches down to press the heel of his palm over Iorveth's groin, feeling the warmth through the fabric of his smallclothes, which, honestly, should already be off by now. Something he'll have to remedy. ]
What part of me do you want?