[there's no fighting it, of course. he's so quick to drink up every little bit of attention that it'd be ludicrous if anyone thought he was fighting. every kiss is met, the graze of lips earning a little shiver.
it's strange to think what he used to be like. how much more pain and suffering he had gone through, and then his distrust in Renans, and now? now, he's gone through endless silence with only the barest memory of Melqal to sustain him, through countless generations while his soul and mind worked themselves out. there's an absurdity in the fact that it even worked, given how far gone his mind was. and still, here he is, with Melqal and with Dohalim, and knowing he does want to give his all for both of them.
... which is, again, a thought that scatters in moments. Melqal rubs at the base of his horns and Morax's breath hitches, hips twitching as he relaxes. those are certainly as sensitive as ever, and the reaction is nearly as debilitating as his tail.]
Ah... haah... but I don't like being unable to-- find the words... I... [he's struggling to find his voice now, clinging to Melqal as the man continues his ministrations. it's true, he knows, but for him... speech had always been a source of pride. that makes it embarrassing to lose track of them, to leave how he feels as something, well, felt between them.] nnh... I can't think when you tease me like this, you know...
[and it makes him want, they both know, deeply. to take and be taken, as impatience mounts and yet he can't bring himself to push Melqal toward anything.]
no subject
[there's no fighting it, of course. he's so quick to drink up every little bit of attention that it'd be ludicrous if anyone thought he was fighting. every kiss is met, the graze of lips earning a little shiver.
it's strange to think what he used to be like. how much more pain and suffering he had gone through, and then his distrust in Renans, and now? now, he's gone through endless silence with only the barest memory of Melqal to sustain him, through countless generations while his soul and mind worked themselves out. there's an absurdity in the fact that it even worked, given how far gone his mind was. and still, here he is, with Melqal and with Dohalim, and knowing he does want to give his all for both of them.
... which is, again, a thought that scatters in moments. Melqal rubs at the base of his horns and Morax's breath hitches, hips twitching as he relaxes. those are certainly as sensitive as ever, and the reaction is nearly as debilitating as his tail.]
Ah... haah... but I don't like being unable to-- find the words... I... [he's struggling to find his voice now, clinging to Melqal as the man continues his ministrations. it's true, he knows, but for him... speech had always been a source of pride. that makes it embarrassing to lose track of them, to leave how he feels as something, well, felt between them.] nnh... I can't think when you tease me like this, you know...
[and it makes him want, they both know, deeply. to take and be taken, as impatience mounts and yet he can't bring himself to push Melqal toward anything.]