Oil would tempt Bramen to bury himself deep inside of Dorian all over again, to bend the man over the edge of the tub. Instead he just kept rocking against the man, grunting as his lover touched him, tilting his head and craning his neck, giving the mage more access to his throat. He wet his lips, eyes closed tightly as he sucked a breath in through his nose.
"Do it," he murmured, "Mark me as yours, somewhere everyone can see." Even with the high-neck of the jackets he wore, even with the scarves he kept around his neck, the place Dorian's thumb pressed would still be visible. Somewhere open, somewhere that people would take notice. There would be whispers and jeers - but Bramen would wear that mark with pride.
It would be a wonderful reminder of what they were doing. Of all the things they did.
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They might!! Not like Bramen hasn't said it repeatedly in elvish.
Date: 2015-01-22 09:04 pm (UTC)"Do it," he murmured, "Mark me as yours, somewhere everyone can see." Even with the high-neck of the jackets he wore, even with the scarves he kept around his neck, the place Dorian's thumb pressed would still be visible. Somewhere open, somewhere that people would take notice. There would be whispers and jeers - but Bramen would wear that mark with pride.
It would be a wonderful reminder of what they were doing. Of all the things they did.