[Given the givens, silence might be better; Myr's still got enough of the Circle clinging to him that someone might hear sits heavy in the back of his mind. Old habits die hard; three years without doesn't erase a lifetime of caution.
He takes his hands from what they're doing as Kostos makes that silent invitation, steps in toward him to rest fingers on his arm and trail them upward. Another step--with a twitch of a smile on his lips at that indrawn breath--and he presses the other hand against Kostos' chest, making free with exploring what he hasn't got eyes for any longer. Fine territory, enough to prompt a little hum of satisfaction in the back of his throat, the downward drag of his palm on exposed skin to catch at the waistband of Kostos' trousers.
One thing to hear the descriptions, another to lay hands on the living article.
He tips his head back, lifts his chin as if he could meet the other mage's gaze--this close he can almost fake it--with an expression of mute intent. Finish up with the robe, that look says.
(before the uneasy feeling in his head grows, gets loose--)]
no subject
He takes his hands from what they're doing as Kostos makes that silent invitation, steps in toward him to rest fingers on his arm and trail them upward. Another step--with a twitch of a smile on his lips at that indrawn breath--and he presses the other hand against Kostos' chest, making free with exploring what he hasn't got eyes for any longer. Fine territory, enough to prompt a little hum of satisfaction in the back of his throat, the downward drag of his palm on exposed skin to catch at the waistband of Kostos' trousers.
One thing to hear the descriptions, another to lay hands on the living article.
He tips his head back, lifts his chin as if he could meet the other mage's gaze--this close he can almost fake it--with an expression of mute intent. Finish up with the robe, that look says.
(
before the uneasy feeling in his head grows, gets loose--)]