kirma truly does elect to watch, at first. the shower is at fault, here; as the hiss of the water turns on, his hackles raise, the fur of his tail standing on end. it smooths over quickly enough, but man. never will he be used to that sound— there's a reason he makes the trek all the way down to the public baths, every time, to the bemusement of a few staff members who have caught on to the regularity. some guests just have their quirks, perhaps?
he doesn't answer either question, but he recognizes the prompt for what it is. god forbid a man enjoy the view... where the path before him leads is quite obvious, though. fine. esi does have a promise to fulfill, anyway.
unlike esi, his clothes do not end up folded, or anywhere appropriate at all. his belt is quickly tossed somewhere behind him, followed by the coat it overlaid, and after another breath or two, his shirt follows. there is no artistry to his movements, only function. here, with just pants left to go, he pauses, closing the distance between them; what starts out as a tender embrace is quickly revealed to be a pretense for something else, as he again puts his face against esi's neck, and—
no subject
kirma truly does elect to watch, at first. the shower is at fault, here; as the hiss of the water turns on, his hackles raise, the fur of his tail standing on end. it smooths over quickly enough, but man. never will he be used to that sound— there's a reason he makes the trek all the way down to the public baths, every time, to the bemusement of a few staff members who have caught on to the regularity. some guests just have their quirks, perhaps?
he doesn't answer either question, but he recognizes the prompt for what it is. god forbid a man enjoy the view... where the path before him leads is quite obvious, though. fine. esi does have a promise to fulfill, anyway.
unlike esi, his clothes do not end up folded, or anywhere appropriate at all. his belt is quickly tossed somewhere behind him, followed by the coat it overlaid, and after another breath or two, his shirt follows. there is no artistry to his movements, only function. here, with just pants left to go, he pauses, closing the distance between them; what starts out as a tender embrace is quickly revealed to be a pretense for something else, as he again puts his face against esi's neck, and—
a sniffening. )
Who did you see?
( answer carefully. )