[ They'd shared time in the baths at Nocwich, this isn't the first time he's seen Rhy naked and he shouldn't allow his gaze to wander as much as he finds it doing now suddenly, blatantly as Rhy speaks. He notes the strange scars etched into his skin, wonders a bit at how they came to be - who would hurt Rhy. It causes him to frown a bit, distracted.
Even the dead don't want to stay dead anymore.
The bark of a laugh sounds too harsh and bitter, it has Kahlil's gaze flicking back up to meet Rhy's with a furrowed brow. He's surprised to find how close they are in the seconds before Rhy breaches the rest of the gap. His heart beats rapidly against his ribs, pupils blowing wide in response to wanting and being wanted. Something old and broken within him still tries to resist, speaking in Dayyid's voice: sinful, unclean, abomination. But that voice isn't as strong as it once was, and he remembers that the man who it belonged to is long dead.
Why should he continue to punish himself here, in a place where no one cares who you take to bed?
(he stops thinking about how much Rhy might've had to drink, the difference in their ages, every and all reason he might have to resist, they slip from his mind along with Dayyid)
Care to be one? he's asked, and so he answers by slipping his hands beneath the water around Rhy's waist, pulling him the rest of the way forward and leaning in to press their lips together with a rough, naked desire as he half drags the other man into his lap. ]
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Even the dead don't want to stay dead anymore.
The bark of a laugh sounds too harsh and bitter, it has Kahlil's gaze flicking back up to meet Rhy's with a furrowed brow. He's surprised to find how close they are in the seconds before Rhy breaches the rest of the gap. His heart beats rapidly against his ribs, pupils blowing wide in response to wanting and being wanted. Something old and broken within him still tries to resist, speaking in Dayyid's voice: sinful, unclean, abomination. But that voice isn't as strong as it once was, and he remembers that the man who it belonged to is long dead.
Why should he continue to punish himself here, in a place where no one cares who you take to bed?
(he stops thinking about how much Rhy might've had to drink, the difference in their ages, every and all reason he might have to resist, they slip from his mind along with Dayyid)
Care to be one? he's asked, and so he answers by slipping his hands beneath the water around Rhy's waist, pulling him the rest of the way forward and leaning in to press their lips together with a rough, naked desire as he half drags the other man into his lap. ]