Perhaps I flatter you in assuming that you might have felt some measure of guilt in sidetracking the conversation, or maybe I am merely fooling myself into believing that aught you do could ever be uninvolved in an overarching scheme.
[As if he has room to talk, really. He feels ridiculous being held like this, and yet...he feels loved. Cared for, like his worth is not intrinsically tied to his capabilities and servitude to his people, but who he is to Hythlodaeus. Which has always been the case, but it certainly can be a difficult task to believe otherwise when for eons your toils have robbed you of such individualism.
As he watches the water, he goes to give Hythlodaeus a hand—after all he doesn't need to go into the bath in his house robe—yet he hesitates. Remembering the scar that adorns his body now, and he's not entirely certain what to make of it. What Hythlodaeus thinks of it...
So, instead, he continues on with the conversation, his hands resting on the front of his robe in a manner that does not suggest the comfort he'd like the gesture to be read as, but instead looks a little tense and awkward.]
I can only assume you wish to better understand Dirk to attempt to communicate with him better, ergo you will be better able to assuage my burdens, yes?
Of course, yet... I wanted you to be allowed space to feel your emotions. You’ve endured something terrible in your absence.
[ He places a hand over Hades’ and looks down at him as his hand slips beneath his robe, touching that scar tissue for the first time. He eases his robe open and traces it with his fingers. ]
To lessen your burdens and to ease my own mind, as well. To be forced to control myself as I have... I can only do so if I know that your needs are being met.
[Hades' breath catches in his throat as he feels Hythlodaeus' hand touch his scar, his heart pounding in his chest. Unconsciously, his jaw tightens as he feels every fiber of his being throb at the idea of Hythlodaeus meeting his needs, and with the emotional state he's in...
Wide, golden eyes flick up to meet Hythlodaeus' own, and there's a war of emotion behind them. However, after a few thoughtful blinks, his expression turns to something solemn and guilty.]
...I agreed to let you spoil me, but I did not agree to that. My needs are being met—well enough.
[Honestly, he has been with far worse lovers than Dirk, and for all Dirk might be reserved in some aspects, he cannot say that he is left wholly unsatisfied. Their relationship is still in its infancy, and Dirk is young yet. It'd be cruel to expect him to match up to Hythlodaeus—it'd be cruel to expect anyone to contend with Hythlodaeus in that regard.]
I am teaching him. But I am teaching him at my pace, not yours. If you wished for his learning to be expedited in such a fashion, mayhap you should have taken him into your bed, hm?!
[He sounds a bit exasperated, and maybe he is...especially with Hythlodaeus' too-warm hand on his chest, that heat seemingly transferring to his face as he stares at him in defiance and vexation...but there is a tinge of affection behind it.]
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[What was going to be an indignant laugh turns into a surprised choke of a sound as Hythlodaeus so suddenly undoes his robe. Naturally he attempts to save face, trying to focus on the conversation, and not how exposed he feels. Of course it's not an unappealing feeling of exposure, but it is one that can become troublesome very quickly if he isn't careful.]
Is this your grand scheme? To bed him—so then by extension you may bed me?
[Hades watches as Hythlodaeus undresses him with such practiced ease it's nearly comical, more impressed by his self control than anything else, however. His gaze travels from the sight of the removal of his underwear, and the gentle bounce of his not-as-flaccid-as-it-should-be phallus, to Hythlodaeus' smile.
He'd prefer if Hythlodaeus didn't notice that detail. But he is not foolish enough to believe he didn't.]
You are right, it is almost silly with it's lack of complexity, but there is something to admire in simplicity. [He almost seems as if he's outright ignoring the question, before he finally adds:] He is rather breathtaking. His body is sculpted rather beautifully, and while it has its fair share of scars, they do not detract from his allure.
Rather, they inspire curiosity, whisper hints of tales he does not share—even in moments of intimacy. Allowing the mind to wander, to fill in the gaps of their origin, of the life he's lived, the struggles he's endured. A visual splendor of his unique existence.
...Do not think ill of him, Hythlodaeus. He might be temperamental and fragile, but for a life as short as his, he has weathered far more than one should.
[...Wow, there's certainly a lot here, isn't there? First, the warm droplets being dripped onto his semi-erection earns Hythlodaeus a severe stare, but no further comment is made at the act. How could he say anything when the last part of what Hythlodaeus says floors him.
That scowl? Now an owlish stare.
That silence? Now a baffled and indignant laugh.
He pats Hythlodaeus' cheek, tilting his head as he examines his face, his eyes seeking out Hythlodaeus' own.]
Perhaps it would not ordinarily vex me so, but his priorities are so sorely scrambled that he cannot even recognize this. I could extrapolate further, but the importance is this:
A man’s pride should lay between his lover’s thighs, not his own. I can speak from experience that your pleasure is its own reward.
[ A matter of principle. ]
He can take you into his mouth anytime he wants, and he’s decided the amount he wants to do that is none and never.
He does pleasure me, Hythlodaeus—but you are not...incorrect he has never taken me between his lips. Though, I cannot help but wonder if this is less about my pleasure, and more about your satisfaction. As you said yourself: my pleasure is a reward, one you have gone without for some time.
[His hand is still on Hythlodaeus' cheek, and he gently strokes it with his thumb as his eyes scan his features with a gentle smile.]
But blame him not, I have simply not requested such of him. Mayhap he is merely intimidated to act on his own without my guidance.
Then guide him. ...And guide him soon. If he refuses, then I will take his place.
[ He turns his head to kiss his palm as he secures his arms around Hades and lifts him into the tub. It’s entirely unnecessary, of course... but he likes watching this. The way the surface of the water gives, the escaping bubbles, the light upon his skin, the way his cock floats for a moment before he’s fully submerged. ]
[Well, if that didn't send a jolt of arousal and warmth through him, then nothing would. He's blessed that Hythlodaeus would mercifully put him in the water, that the buoyancy hides the fuller effect that kiss, lift, and threat has on him.
The sigh and slight shudder to it could be from the heat of the water, and how relaxing it is over his skin, but truly it's from Hythlodaeus' words. The cloudiness of his mind as his mounting arousal tortures him. And it does torture him! To be so emotionally vulnerable, to be held so lovingly, to be cared for like this, doted upon...appreciated...
It makes his very soul mourn the man before him, as if it weren't already, but ever more does it now. Unbidden he places his hand on Hythlodaeus' arm, his pale eyes seeking Hythlodaeus' own as he wordlessly speaks the affection and love they both know, they both feel. It takes everything within him to keep from pulling the man forward, to keep from capturing his lips with his own.
...to keep from reaching down and grabbing the evidence of their shared arousal made all the more clear from his new position in the water.]
I shall be certain to do just that. Little would I wish for you to feel so compelled to take me so.
[He doesn’t bother hiding his arousal as he moves behind him to an end of the bath. He dips his hands in the water and lathers them, wasting no time in taking his muscles into his hands. ]
[ It is only from his vantage point that he properly notes the exit wound scar. He does not ask, as he already knows. He works his bunched muscle with his strong hands, chewing his lip as he steals a glance from over Hades’ shoulder.]
[He considers how long he’s willing to wait for this.]
...One week. I would like to hear how this unfolds by then.
[It's almost pathetic how easily he melts into Hythlodaeus' hands, large and strong that they are. Soft, though with the characteristic calluses he knows him to have. An artist, obvious to any with a lick of sense, but even after the passing of ages, he's never forgotten the feel of his hands upon his body. How could he, when they're the most natural thing in the world to him. Upon the same level of eating and breathing.
So lost is he to the sensation and familiarity that he very nearly misses the deadline, and even then his mind is enraptured in the burning heat in his groin, the prickle of bumps across his skin as those hands work him just right, and the sight of Hythlodaeus' arousal. It's a few good beats later that it clicks, and he visibly jolts, turning to look at his masseuse.]
[Helplessly he shudders, feeling Hythlodaeus' breath on his ear is enough to make him squirm, but the words spoken to him cause a conflicting rise of irritation--but with his continued arousal that merely...conflates the two. How frustrating.
Closing his eyes, he attempts to maintain control over himself, tries to will an argument into his mind, but it is far more difficult than it has the right to be.
Difficult, but not impossible.]
...Nay, I do not think he will be against it, nor that it will take more than a week for us to sleep together again. Moreover, my hesitance to such a short window is prudent and precautionary both. I cannot predict the future, nor what forestalling there may yet be.
My, my... You sound a little unconfident in your ability to pull off such a simple scheme.
[He punctuates this playful jab with a firm squeeze to his neck and shoulder, gently stretching it to the side.]
Very well. Merely update me on your attempt or progress.
[He swaps sides to stretch the other side, contemplating his posture for a moment.]
Nevertheless, I would hear your advice for speaking with him. He has a peculiar rigidity to him that I do not quite understand how to navigate without acquiescing entirely.
[He's retort to the first bit a whole lot faster if not for that squeeze and tilt. Honestly, it's so relaxing that he nearly lets the jab go entirely—he doesn't, however. Instead, he waits till Hythlodaeus is quite finished with what he has to say, and that other tilt and stretch of his neck and shoulders.
Taking a exact moment it finishes to glance back at him.]
First off all, Hythlodaeus, were I operating under normal circumstances, I would not question my ability to make a man lust after the taste of my loins, but let me remind you that mere moments ago I was made to weep upon your chest like a babe fresh from the womb.
[In other words, he really isn't wanting to rush or press something that could possibly be a problem when right now he wants stability. His emotional state, his general state of being is not at its best, and he'd like a chance to recover before being put to some test that is far more a benefit to Hythlodaeus' own ego, than Hades himself.
Call him selfish, or hypocritical, but he'd like a little peace for once.]
As for your embarrassing floundering when dealing with Dirk, you and he suffer the same problem. Well, problems, really.
[As he continues, he gestures with his hands, as he is wont to do.]
Both of you want control of all aspects of any given situation. Both of you do not pick up on certain social cues, not to mention your stubborn streaks when either of you believe your position to be infallible, which is absurdly often. These alone are damning, but where you lack in true emotional affect, he is particularly emotionally susceptible. You do not frustrate nor fray, while he frays all too easily.
You threaten his sense of security being how you are, and while I would not say that you should lie down and concede, you must needs be gentle. However, he is a proud man, much of his accomplishments he has done more or less on his own, and a fragile heart makes for a fragile ego, and he will not suffer being pitied. This would insult his integrity.
[Finally he sighs, turning his face away from Hythlodaeus as he rubs at his temple, eyes slipping closed.]
In short: you must be clever in your approach, this is a perilous path to tread if you do not know how to appease a man's ego without sacrificing your own dignity in the same breath. He needs not be trampled, but lead, and the less he knows of the leash the better. He has suffered in solitude, but used it as his shield for far too long.
[And well does he know how it can both protect and harm you. How believing yourself the only voice of reason, the only right one in the room can make it difficult to hear the voices of others.
Damn, maybe Hythlodaeus was right about him projecting a little bit. No matter.]
He does not trust easy, and attempting to wrest control from him is only going to force him to shut you out all the more.
I suppose I could have gleaned much of that in retrospect, but ever do I love to hear you talk and put these things together. I would hate to deprive myself of the pleasure otherwise. [he sighs, taking up a cupped handful of water to wet his hair.]
Very well, I shall rethink my approach. Or rather, regress to a previous approach. It was far more successful.
[Which, hilariously, was neither in person nor included much in the way of words. When they had spoken over text... and after that scuffle on the chalkboard...]
Ah. I must ask, might you know the source or nature of his aversion to the color green?
[After that lengthy explanation, Hades was allowing himself to bask in Hythlodaeus' doting once more, letting his eyes close as he wets his hair and talks. His mouth quirking into a smile at the gentle compliment, though his eyebrows raise a little at Hythlodaeus' comment on his more successful approach.
Idly, he wonders if it has to do with the horse drawings. Dirk ever was an appreciator of the arts. He'd have to be, if he were to be Hades' lover, after all. But then Hythlodaeus' question actually makes him open his eyes and look at him, his eyes scanning over Hythlodaeus for a long moment—then it clicks.]
...Ah. There is a man from Dirk's past whom favors the color. Mayhap it serves as a sore reminder of him. Why do you ask?
You are surely aware of the orange he uses to send messages. He had inspired me to do the same, though it seemed to only agitate him.
[He folds a towel and places it over the edge of the bath as a makeshift pillow. He guides Hades' neck over it before he pours a generous amount of shampoo into his hands both to clean and act as a lubricant for impending the scalp massage. He works his fingers into his hair, openly and softly staring down at him, tracing the less familiar parts of it with his eyes.]
...Perhaps I should cease this, if the reminder is too sore?
[Is his soft reply, but it could just as well be a reaction to the massaging of his scalp. It's hard to keep his eyes open as Hythlodaeus works his deft fingers through his hair, rubbing away tension that might have otherwise seemed impossible. Giving in, he does close his eyes, his expression relaxing under Hythlodaeus' ministrations.]
The color is rather similar. [He remarks a little flatly.] It may be best to avoid its use. For now, at least. Little does he need to be coddled so, but if we are to help him in any way, our approach must be gentle, yet implacable.
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[As if he has room to talk, really. He feels ridiculous being held like this, and yet...he feels loved. Cared for, like his worth is not intrinsically tied to his capabilities and servitude to his people, but who he is to Hythlodaeus. Which has always been the case, but it certainly can be a difficult task to believe otherwise when for eons your toils have robbed you of such individualism.
As he watches the water, he goes to give Hythlodaeus a hand—after all he doesn't need to go into the bath in his house robe—yet he hesitates. Remembering the scar that adorns his body now, and he's not entirely certain what to make of it. What Hythlodaeus thinks of it...
So, instead, he continues on with the conversation, his hands resting on the front of his robe in a manner that does not suggest the comfort he'd like the gesture to be read as, but instead looks a little tense and awkward.]
I can only assume you wish to better understand Dirk to attempt to communicate with him better, ergo you will be better able to assuage my burdens, yes?
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[ He places a hand over Hades’ and looks down at him as his hand slips beneath his robe, touching that scar tissue for the first time. He eases his robe open and traces it with his fingers. ]
To lessen your burdens and to ease my own mind, as well. To be forced to control myself as I have... I can only do so if I know that your needs are being met.
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Wide, golden eyes flick up to meet Hythlodaeus' own, and there's a war of emotion behind them. However, after a few thoughtful blinks, his expression turns to something solemn and guilty.]
...I agreed to let you spoil me, but I did not agree to that. My needs are being met—well enough.
[Honestly, he has been with far worse lovers than Dirk, and for all Dirk might be reserved in some aspects, he cannot say that he is left wholly unsatisfied. Their relationship is still in its infancy, and Dirk is young yet. It'd be cruel to expect him to match up to Hythlodaeus—it'd be cruel to expect anyone to contend with Hythlodaeus in that regard.]
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I must insist that you impress upon him how lucky he is to have a lover such as you.
...And it is your duty, as the older man, to teach him how to please you as I did to you so long ago.
[ Otherwise he would have to take him back. Since, really. He might not have a soul, but he was now confident that he was a better fit. ]
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I am teaching him. But I am teaching him at my pace, not yours. If you wished for his learning to be expedited in such a fashion, mayhap you should have taken him into your bed, hm?!
[He sounds a bit exasperated, and maybe he is...especially with Hythlodaeus' too-warm hand on his chest, that heat seemingly transferring to his face as he stares at him in defiance and vexation...but there is a tinge of affection behind it.]
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[ His hand slides down to the sash and he pulls it open unbidden. ]
It would be more appropriate for him to learn from me, wouldn’t it? We prefer the same role.
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Is this your grand scheme? To bed him—so then by extension you may bed me?
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[A smug smile works its way onto his face as he shamelessly tugs his underwear off his hips. But he behaves himself otherwise as he said he would. ]
How beautiful is he, fully undressed?
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He'd prefer if Hythlodaeus didn't notice that detail. But he is not foolish enough to believe he didn't.]
You are right, it is almost silly with it's lack of complexity, but there is something to admire in simplicity. [He almost seems as if he's outright ignoring the question, before he finally adds:] He is rather breathtaking. His body is sculpted rather beautifully, and while it has its fair share of scars, they do not detract from his allure.
Rather, they inspire curiosity, whisper hints of tales he does not share—even in moments of intimacy. Allowing the mind to wander, to fill in the gaps of their origin, of the life he's lived, the struggles he's endured. A visual splendor of his unique existence.
...Do not think ill of him, Hythlodaeus. He might be temperamental and fragile, but for a life as short as his, he has weathered far more than one should.
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I, too, love a good mystery as you well know.
[ He dips his hand in the filled tub to test the heat, then lets the hot droplets drip over his cock, though calling no further attention to it. ]
Yet you have more clues. What in that past of his do you think makes him shy from oral pleasure?
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That scowl? Now an owlish stare.
That silence? Now a baffled and indignant laugh.
He pats Hythlodaeus' cheek, tilting his head as he examines his face, his eyes seeking out Hythlodaeus' own.]
...Really. Why does this plague you so?
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A man’s pride should lay between his lover’s thighs, not his own. I can speak from experience that your pleasure is its own reward.
[ A matter of principle. ]
He can take you into his mouth anytime he wants, and he’s decided the amount he wants to do that is none and never.
[... And indignant jealousy. ]
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[His hand is still on Hythlodaeus' cheek, and he gently strokes it with his thumb as his eyes scan his features with a gentle smile.]
But blame him not, I have simply not requested such of him. Mayhap he is merely intimidated to act on his own without my guidance.
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[ He turns his head to kiss his palm as he secures his arms around Hades and lifts him into the tub. It’s entirely unnecessary, of course... but he likes watching this. The way the surface of the water gives, the escaping bubbles, the light upon his skin, the way his cock floats for a moment before he’s fully submerged. ]
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The sigh and slight shudder to it could be from the heat of the water, and how relaxing it is over his skin, but truly it's from Hythlodaeus' words. The cloudiness of his mind as his mounting arousal tortures him. And it does torture him! To be so emotionally vulnerable, to be held so lovingly, to be cared for like this, doted upon...appreciated...
It makes his very soul mourn the man before him, as if it weren't already, but ever more does it now. Unbidden he places his hand on Hythlodaeus' arm, his pale eyes seeking Hythlodaeus' own as he wordlessly speaks the affection and love they both know, they both feel. It takes everything within him to keep from pulling the man forward, to keep from capturing his lips with his own.
...to keep from reaching down and grabbing the evidence of their shared arousal made all the more clear from his new position in the water.]
I shall be certain to do just that. Little would I wish for you to feel so compelled to take me so.
[That's a fucking lie, but...]
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[He doesn’t bother hiding his arousal as he moves behind him to an end of the bath. He dips his hands in the water and lathers them, wasting no time in taking his muscles into his hands. ]
[ It is only from his vantage point that he properly notes the exit wound scar. He does not ask, as he already knows. He works his bunched muscle with his strong hands, chewing his lip as he steals a glance from over Hades’ shoulder.]
[He considers how long he’s willing to wait for this.]
...One week. I would like to hear how this unfolds by then.
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So lost is he to the sensation and familiarity that he very nearly misses the deadline, and even then his mind is enraptured in the burning heat in his groin, the prickle of bumps across his skin as those hands work him just right, and the sight of Hythlodaeus' arousal. It's a few good beats later that it clicks, and he visibly jolts, turning to look at his masseuse.]
...a week is awful hasty, would you not agree?
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...Unless you believe that he will become so incensed by the mere broach of topic that it will yield unfavorable results.
[ He says softly, all the while leaning unnecessarily close to Hades ear. ]
Or if it would be unnatural for you to sleep together in that timeframe. I’ve ever been one to uphold scientific integrity, after all.
[ And his massage is relentless as ever. It seems that he’s trying to make Hades go limp in compensation.]
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Closing his eyes, he attempts to maintain control over himself, tries to will an argument into his mind, but it is far more difficult than it has the right to be.
Difficult, but not impossible.]
...Nay, I do not think he will be against it, nor that it will take more than a week for us to sleep together again. Moreover, my hesitance to such a short window is prudent and precautionary both. I cannot predict the future, nor what forestalling there may yet be.
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[He punctuates this playful jab with a firm squeeze to his neck and shoulder, gently stretching it to the side.]
Very well. Merely update me on your attempt or progress.
[He swaps sides to stretch the other side, contemplating his posture for a moment.]
Nevertheless, I would hear your advice for speaking with him. He has a peculiar rigidity to him that I do not quite understand how to navigate without acquiescing entirely.
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Taking a exact moment it finishes to glance back at him.]
First off all, Hythlodaeus, were I operating under normal circumstances, I would not question my ability to make a man lust after the taste of my loins, but let me remind you that mere moments ago I was made to weep upon your chest like a babe fresh from the womb.
[In other words, he really isn't wanting to rush or press something that could possibly be a problem when right now he wants stability. His emotional state, his general state of being is not at its best, and he'd like a chance to recover before being put to some test that is far more a benefit to Hythlodaeus' own ego, than Hades himself.
Call him selfish, or hypocritical, but he'd like a little peace for once.]
As for your embarrassing floundering when dealing with Dirk, you and he suffer the same problem. Well, problems, really.
[As he continues, he gestures with his hands, as he is wont to do.]
Both of you want control of all aspects of any given situation. Both of you do not pick up on certain social cues, not to mention your stubborn streaks when either of you believe your position to be infallible, which is absurdly often. These alone are damning, but where you lack in true emotional affect, he is particularly emotionally susceptible. You do not frustrate nor fray, while he frays all too easily.
You threaten his sense of security being how you are, and while I would not say that you should lie down and concede, you must needs be gentle. However, he is a proud man, much of his accomplishments he has done more or less on his own, and a fragile heart makes for a fragile ego, and he will not suffer being pitied. This would insult his integrity.
[Finally he sighs, turning his face away from Hythlodaeus as he rubs at his temple, eyes slipping closed.]
In short: you must be clever in your approach, this is a perilous path to tread if you do not know how to appease a man's ego without sacrificing your own dignity in the same breath. He needs not be trampled, but lead, and the less he knows of the leash the better. He has suffered in solitude, but used it as his shield for far too long.
[And well does he know how it can both protect and harm you. How believing yourself the only voice of reason, the only right one in the room can make it difficult to hear the voices of others.
Damn, maybe Hythlodaeus was right about him projecting a little bit. No matter.]
He does not trust easy, and attempting to wrest control from him is only going to force him to shut you out all the more.
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Very well, I shall rethink my approach. Or rather, regress to a previous approach. It was far more successful.
[Which, hilariously, was neither in person nor included much in the way of words. When they had spoken over text... and after that scuffle on the chalkboard...]
Ah. I must ask, might you know the source or nature of his aversion to the color green?
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Idly, he wonders if it has to do with the horse drawings. Dirk ever was an appreciator of the arts. He'd have to be, if he were to be Hades' lover, after all. But then Hythlodaeus' question actually makes him open his eyes and look at him, his eyes scanning over Hythlodaeus for a long moment—then it clicks.]
...Ah. There is a man from Dirk's past whom favors the color. Mayhap it serves as a sore reminder of him. Why do you ask?
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[He folds a towel and places it over the edge of the bath as a makeshift pillow. He guides Hades' neck over it before he pours a generous amount of shampoo into his hands both to clean and act as a lubricant for impending the scalp massage. He works his fingers into his hair, openly and softly staring down at him, tracing the less familiar parts of it with his eyes.]
...Perhaps I should cease this, if the reminder is too sore?
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[Is his soft reply, but it could just as well be a reaction to the massaging of his scalp. It's hard to keep his eyes open as Hythlodaeus works his deft fingers through his hair, rubbing away tension that might have otherwise seemed impossible. Giving in, he does close his eyes, his expression relaxing under Hythlodaeus' ministrations.]
The color is rather similar. [He remarks a little flatly.] It may be best to avoid its use. For now, at least. Little does he need to be coddled so, but if we are to help him in any way, our approach must be gentle, yet implacable.
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