25.Aug.13, 12:49 AM
Things got simpler from here.
Z'jan let himself be pulled in, and the contact with human skin was comforting. No, more the comforting. It was the best thing. The pressure of body against body, whether it was simply leaning back to back while dozing in the shade, or going for a tumble in bed, was one of Z'jan's favorite feelings. He couldn't hide it. Once his skin touched O'wain's, it pressed closer without further encouragement.
There was nothing else on Z'jan's mind except this moment. He forgot all about the wherry meat, his scattered clothing, their strange location... even his stomach has stopped growling. And while he couldn't (and didn't want to) forget entirely about Ghalath, she was dozing in the sun near Nishkath and had no more interest in his current affairs than if he'd been counting grains of sand by the lakeshore.
The sweat from running had sent pin-pricks of pain across his little wounds. But it didn't bother him; in fact, it made the moment seem more immediate: more visceral. As he was kissed, Z'jan moved his hand up O'wain's chest, coming to rest near the brownrider's throat. His thumb pressed soft circles around the man's adam's apple, before tracking upwards, tracing the line of his jaw.
He pressed his cheek to O'wain's, momentarily pulling his lips away. Gentle was good, he thought. Still, he didn't need this man getting the wrong idea...
There was a smirk on Z'jan's face, but is was half veiled with growing lust... and since he was pressed against O'wain, there was no way the brownrider could see it anyway. "It's good to hear," he spoke, his voice taking on a definitively husky overtone. This tip of his nose just touched O'wain's ear, "but you should know, I don't break easy, either."
Z'jan let himself be pulled in, and the contact with human skin was comforting. No, more the comforting. It was the best thing. The pressure of body against body, whether it was simply leaning back to back while dozing in the shade, or going for a tumble in bed, was one of Z'jan's favorite feelings. He couldn't hide it. Once his skin touched O'wain's, it pressed closer without further encouragement.
There was nothing else on Z'jan's mind except this moment. He forgot all about the wherry meat, his scattered clothing, their strange location... even his stomach has stopped growling. And while he couldn't (and didn't want to) forget entirely about Ghalath, she was dozing in the sun near Nishkath and had no more interest in his current affairs than if he'd been counting grains of sand by the lakeshore.
The sweat from running had sent pin-pricks of pain across his little wounds. But it didn't bother him; in fact, it made the moment seem more immediate: more visceral. As he was kissed, Z'jan moved his hand up O'wain's chest, coming to rest near the brownrider's throat. His thumb pressed soft circles around the man's adam's apple, before tracking upwards, tracing the line of his jaw.
He pressed his cheek to O'wain's, momentarily pulling his lips away. Gentle was good, he thought. Still, he didn't need this man getting the wrong idea...
There was a smirk on Z'jan's face, but is was half veiled with growing lust... and since he was pressed against O'wain, there was no way the brownrider could see it anyway. "It's good to hear," he spoke, his voice taking on a definitively husky overtone. This tip of his nose just touched O'wain's ear, "but you should know, I don't break easy, either."