[ Argument rises in his throat, but it never makes it out of his mouth. 'I was interested in you' would be a lie, and they would both know it. He'd only ever propositioned Iorveth because it had felt like what he was supposed to do, the only way he knew to interact with the world. Wanting had come later, after Iorveth had turned him down enough times to bruise his ego irreparably. It had been offensive, but also strangely comforting to know that Iorveth hadn't expected—or perhaps even wanted—any physicality from him. Ironically, it wasn't until he knew that intimacy wasn't on the table that he ever wanted it.

All irrelevant. He wants it now — wants Iorveth, specifically. He hadn't ever considered that sex could be anything but a meaningless transaction between someone using and someone being used, but Iorveth taught him differently. ]

I'm interested in you now, [ is what he lands on, pressing his mouth against the skin of Iorveth's shoulder. ] Mad with lust, if you must know.

[ A grin behind Iorveth's back. He'll know it by the feeling of teeth against his damp skin. ]

Sometimes I fantasize about holding you down and having my wicked way with you until you can think of nothing but how much I love you.

[ Absolutely deviant, he thinks. ]