[Oh, but being lifted so easily does things to him. It's never been a question of whether the man was strong enough - they've seen each other train enough times to know they're both plenty strong - but actually being picked up—
As he's laid in bed (a strange thought, still), he ignores the urge to reach out, to help in some way. What would he do, anyway? Help remove his shoes? The other seems fine right now, and he did agree to let him take care of him.
Dohalim looks... radiant above him, positioned between his knees. It's a little embarrassing, but only in the briefest moments of vulnerability. Hands drag over his thighs and they elicit a shivery gasp, a noise that's echoed inv the way his belt moves when his shirt pushes above it. He's hardly self-conscious about his looks, but being observed like this...
He's a soldier, after all. And as one who also fights with his hands, there's no surprise he's covered in scars. Many are remarkably small, all well healed - a testament both to his skill and the skill of their healers.]
Haah... I'll... keep it in mind... and if there's anything I can do to help, just... tell me.
[If he's honest, he doesn't know if he could tell him to stop. The idea of being treated this way is entirely too pleasant - at least with Dohalim. They've most certainly crossed a line, but... it's too late to worry about it now.]
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[Oh, but being lifted so easily does things to him. It's never been a question of whether the man was strong enough - they've seen each other train enough times to know they're both plenty strong - but actually being picked up—
As he's laid in bed (a strange thought, still), he ignores the urge to reach out, to help in some way. What would he do, anyway? Help remove his shoes? The other seems fine right now, and he did agree to let him take care of him.
Dohalim looks... radiant above him, positioned between his knees. It's a little embarrassing, but only in the briefest moments of vulnerability. Hands drag over his thighs and they elicit a shivery gasp, a noise that's echoed inv the way his belt moves when his shirt pushes above it. He's hardly self-conscious about his looks, but being observed like this...
He's a soldier, after all. And as one who also fights with his hands, there's no surprise he's covered in scars. Many are remarkably small, all well healed - a testament both to his skill and the skill of their healers.]
Haah... I'll... keep it in mind... and if there's anything I can do to help, just... tell me.
[If he's honest, he doesn't know if he could tell him to stop. The idea of being treated this way is entirely too pleasant - at least with Dohalim. They've most certainly crossed a line, but... it's too late to worry about it now.]