[There's a twisted joy in seeing Hythlodaeus jump right to it. Lowering to his knees and giving in to his demands. His hands on his skirt gives his heart a flutter, and he feels the pulse of arousal throb through him. He's watching him with lustful disgust, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth pulled into a wry smirk.
He's about to put his hand on Hythlodaeus' head, to pull his face closer, to make him mouth against the fabric like he's starved for what's beneath—but then he feels something else. A ping of guilt, a painful grip to his chest as the thoughts of such feels...wrong.
Not for Hythlodaeus, but because...of Dirk. His mind goes back to the time he just spent with him, the talk they had in this very room. The intimacy they've been sharing, and everything since—the fact Dirk is not a mortal, but is of equal footing as he and Hythlodaeus both...]
...No.
[He uses that hand to grab a fistful of Hythlodaeus' hair, making him look up at him. His eyes are conflicted, and any amusement or joy he might have had is gone.]
not quite nsfw but THEMES
He's about to put his hand on Hythlodaeus' head, to pull his face closer, to make him mouth against the fabric like he's starved for what's beneath—but then he feels something else. A ping of guilt, a painful grip to his chest as the thoughts of such feels...wrong.
Not for Hythlodaeus, but because...of Dirk. His mind goes back to the time he just spent with him, the talk they had in this very room. The intimacy they've been sharing, and everything since—the fact Dirk is not a mortal, but is of equal footing as he and Hythlodaeus both...]
...No.
[He uses that hand to grab a fistful of Hythlodaeus' hair, making him look up at him. His eyes are conflicted, and any amusement or joy he might have had is gone.]
We cannot do this.
[And then he releases his hair.]