[ Not one to hold his tongue, his lip curls a little at the warm press of Shanks's hand to his body; Set never wears much, to be sure. His typical attire consists of golden jewelry and the black shendyt currently stretching tight over his thighs, knees parting as he walks them forward — slowly, deliberately bracketing Shanks's hips in a straddle. Nearing a point where he cannot turn back without casting a sour pall upon the thread of tension between them.
He'd never say he was drawn to anyone. Lust, seduction, sex — all are tools that he uses, rather than delves into with the fullness of his head and heart. Nephthys was the only soul he'd ever truly given himself over to, and the others who had him were those who had only sought dominance over an undefeated god, control of an elusive creature, or to take out their sick desires on someone who could not be killed. He wouldn't say he feels the stirring of want easily, nor evocatively — but, he does feel a strange heat simmering in his belly, one that has grown since meeting Shanks in the bar. Since hearing him speak of the blue-haired pirate he'd clearly give the world as a gift to.
Adoration ( devotion ) like that, is something he's drawn to. He is a god, after all. ]
What an audacious man. You will get what I deign to give you.
[ There's no anger in the words, only a buzzing sort of amusement. Set cranes himself up and over the tilt of Shanks's face, free hand sweeping aside hair as red as his own before he descends upon him. Mouth pressing warm and full to Shanks's own, his eyes closing as he pursues that little tug of wantneed he hasn't a clue how to follow. Thighs tight, strong even as he dips his weight into the cradle of the other man's lap. ]
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:AAAA:
[ Not one to hold his tongue, his lip curls a little at the warm press of Shanks's hand to his body; Set never wears much, to be sure. His typical attire consists of golden jewelry and the black shendyt currently stretching tight over his thighs, knees parting as he walks them forward — slowly, deliberately bracketing Shanks's hips in a straddle. Nearing a point where he cannot turn back without casting a sour pall upon the thread of tension between them.
He'd never say he was drawn to anyone. Lust, seduction, sex — all are tools that he uses, rather than delves into with the fullness of his head and heart. Nephthys was the only soul he'd ever truly given himself over to, and the others who had him were those who had only sought dominance over an undefeated god, control of an elusive creature, or to take out their sick desires on someone who could not be killed. He wouldn't say he feels the stirring of want easily, nor evocatively — but, he does feel a strange heat simmering in his belly, one that has grown since meeting Shanks in the bar. Since hearing him speak of the blue-haired pirate he'd clearly give the world as a gift to.
Adoration ( devotion ) like that, is something he's drawn to. He is a god, after all. ]
What an audacious man. You will get what I deign to give you.
[ There's no anger in the words, only a buzzing sort of amusement. Set cranes himself up and over the tilt of Shanks's face, free hand sweeping aside hair as red as his own before he descends upon him. Mouth pressing warm and full to Shanks's own, his eyes closing as he pursues that little tug of wantneed he hasn't a clue how to follow. Thighs tight, strong even as he dips his weight into the cradle of the other man's lap. ]