[ He can do this, he repeats to himself. Entering the circumstances knowing that Matt will cleave to him when he is told to helps; control is what he fears the loss of, and perhaps beginning to expand his horizons with this man will be easier than having to fight one of the rougher ones. ( Set will lose, he knows. If someone tests their sexual dominance against him, he will lose. And it will be just like before, just like every time before with hands and teeth and flesh tearing him apart. )
To go to another man, knowing that he is going to partake in intimacy of the flesh ( for reasons, he cannot YET simply call it "sex"!!! ), he feels anxious. A crawling thing inside of his belly that tells him that he must not. It is silly to seek the heat of another man. Yet, he can remember kissing Horus. He can remember the way he'd thrown his arms around his shoulders and dove into the urgent, strong fold of his mouth; the way Horus's broad hands and strong arms had held him, and the brilliant, adoring blue of his eyes that looked upon Set with such glorification of his person.
He goes to Matt, because he wants to be knowledgeable and worthy of that worship. He doesn't want to flounder and flinch. And he pushes the door open without paying any mind to the spellwork around it — why would he? he's endless! — and he lowers his head and bunches his shoulders when he sees Matt, waiting and topless. It's different, when someone wears a shirt, for them to be bare. The war god's hair falls over his shoulders, pupils blowing wide and black within the red of his eyes, teeth bared in a sharp smile. ]
— what manner of fight is this, Matthew Jamison? [ and he just STEPS RIGHT IN :) get fucked set ]
cw allusions to sexual violence
To go to another man, knowing that he is going to partake in intimacy of the flesh ( for reasons, he cannot YET simply call it "sex"!!! ), he feels anxious. A crawling thing inside of his belly that tells him that he must not. It is silly to seek the heat of another man. Yet, he can remember kissing Horus. He can remember the way he'd thrown his arms around his shoulders and dove into the urgent, strong fold of his mouth; the way Horus's broad hands and strong arms had held him, and the brilliant, adoring blue of his eyes that looked upon Set with such glorification of his person.
He goes to Matt, because he wants to be knowledgeable and worthy of that worship. He doesn't want to flounder and flinch. And he pushes the door open without paying any mind to the spellwork around it — why would he? he's endless! — and he lowers his head and bunches his shoulders when he sees Matt, waiting and topless. It's different, when someone wears a shirt, for them to be bare. The war god's hair falls over his shoulders, pupils blowing wide and black within the red of his eyes, teeth bared in a sharp smile. ]
— what manner of fight is this, Matthew Jamison? [ and he just STEPS RIGHT IN :) get fucked set ]