[It's just — nice, is the thing. Nice to play around like this. Nice to be touched. Nice to see Ryn as thirsty as if he's been stranded in the Sagolii for thirty-six hours without an oasis.
He nudges a little closer, encouraging more of the touch.]
[he's more cautious moving his injured arm, but he touches with both hands anyway. slow and deliberate, mapping out the planes of his body beneath his palms, fingers skimming teasingly along the waistband of his pants before sliding back up, then further, underneath the crop top.]
This was a joke. You weren't supposed to look so damned good in it.
[You know, even if it wasn't Confidence Week, there really is something powerfully self-affirming about having an attractive man feeling you up while musing to himself about how unfairly hot you are. Affirming enough that it actually manages to break through the ridiculous alpha machismo high he's been riding on, and just leaves him kind of warmly, giddily content.]
You'll just have to make jokes more often.
[His head lists to the side a little bit, baring just a hint more of the side of his neck in a manner that's either a tease of his own, or an invitation. Or both.]
[Though it's a comment that gets cut short by a soft strangled noise, as Ryn correctly concludes "invitation" and moves to thoroughly take advantage of it.]
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[Judging by Ryn's moony expression, it is definitely not that bad.]
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[He reaches forward, catching one of Ryn's hands and bringing it back with him, inviting touch without outright guiding him to make contact.]
D'you think?
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No, no, you can leave it on for now.
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[It's just — nice, is the thing. Nice to play around like this. Nice to be touched. Nice to see Ryn as thirsty as if he's been stranded in the Sagolii for thirty-six hours without an oasis.
He nudges a little closer, encouraging more of the touch.]
So long as you keep doing that.
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[he's more cautious moving his injured arm, but he touches with both hands anyway. slow and deliberate, mapping out the planes of his body beneath his palms, fingers skimming teasingly along the waistband of his pants before sliding back up, then further, underneath the crop top.]
This was a joke. You weren't supposed to look so damned good in it.
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You'll just have to make jokes more often.
[His head lists to the side a little bit, baring just a hint more of the side of his neck in a manner that's either a tease of his own, or an invitation. Or both.]
You know you're welcome to me whenever you want.
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[he's leaning in as he says that, pressing a kiss just below thancred's choker.
...then shifting it out of the way to nip at the skin, right where it usually sits.]
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[Though it's a comment that gets cut short by a soft strangled noise, as Ryn correctly concludes "invitation" and moves to thoroughly take advantage of it.]
Gods...