[Predathos whispers a soothing assurance to Orym that this is fine, that they will protect this together, that nothing will be allowed to take Dorian for them. They can have this.
It will be fine.
Orym pours himself into that kiss, to swallowing down that pretty moan and urging Dorian back. His hands run up that bared chest, fingers exploring skin. So maybe it will be a bit of a surprise when it feels like there are also hands at the bard's hips, easing his trousers and underthings down those long, lithe legs. Those hands are entirely unseen, little pieces of the power that has become second nature to the halfling in such very short time.]
no subject
It will be fine.
Orym pours himself into that kiss, to swallowing down that pretty moan and urging Dorian back. His hands run up that bared chest, fingers exploring skin. So maybe it will be a bit of a surprise when it feels like there are also hands at the bard's hips, easing his trousers and underthings down those long, lithe legs. Those hands are entirely unseen, little pieces of the power that has become second nature to the halfling in such very short time.]