[ Molly doesn't wait for Zervan to do as instructed, carefully maneuvering the man over and down onto the motel bed. the moment he gets the other man down he's looking around at the bucket, the towels, and frowns. not exactly the best to deal with everything going on here but it'll have to do. ]
You're hilarious, you know that? [ of course he doesn't believe the explanation, he doesn't even entertain it for less than a few seconds. instead he grabs some of the ice and wraps it up in one of the still intact towels, handing it to Zervan to hold against his nose. ] But it wouldn't surprise me if that's what really happened.
[Of course he says that, and of course he chuckles about it. Up until he's moving, then all the hot air deflates out of him. Blankets bunched up as makeshift pillows to keep himself propped up better, it's infinitely easier to talk while lying here. As annoying as it is to admit.]
True, I am. But... in this case, that is what happened. That, and a woman became a bear. Among other things. [It literally happened, man. Instead of insisting, further, he just accepts the cold pack, holding it in place with another grimace.]
My message, in part. I ... cannot say what else. [His brow furrows.] I do not fully know why.
If you behave maybe you'll get to hear it more often.
[ he shrugs off his coat and tosses it to the side, then peals off his shirt. any other time this would be a herald of things to come, an enjoyable night for the both of them but right now? right now Molly's using his sharp nails to tear up his shirt into makeshift bandages. it's a clean shirt and will likely be better as makeshift bandages than some torn up towels.
red eyes look over the man's chest, taking in every bruise and abrasion. from a quick glance it's doesn't look as though he suffered anything series aside from the broken nose, but it's always hard to tell at a glance whether or not someone's got a broken rib or two. ]
Don't be stupid, you've got nothing to apologize for. [ Molly all but climbs on top of Zervan then, hovering over him on his knees as to not put his weight down on him. ] Some terrible shit happened and you were trying to protect yourself, I get it. Unfortunately for you I'm not easily shaken off.
Gonna check if you've broken anything. Tell me how much it hurts when I press down, okay? [ he leans over then, hands resting on the elf's collar bones and pressing down. ]
[Zevran may be lying down, and that's not going to stop him from taking in the eye candy, so to speak. He feels like garbage, but hey. Molly is attractive. Shredding clothing? Also attractive.]
[There is an ugly, vaguely foot-shaped bruise on his chest. Scrapes and cuts on his limbs, with another nasty looking bruise rising along the edge of his pants on one hip. The chest is the worst of it, aside from his nose.]
Don't I? I've made you come all this way, for nothing fun. After... telling you I was leaving - [He's still not sure if he should follow through or not. Though the bravado that seeped into his words starts to fall flat the more Molly speaks. Some terrible shit happened-] So you know then? What transpired?
[Boy, he sure wishes he hadn't been so stupid. Having the tiefling leaning over him like this? A beautiful sight. Somehow even more when he can't do anything about it.]
Ah... not at all, there. [He'd made it through with collar bones intact, thankfully.]
[ slowly Molly starts to move down Zervan's chest, pressing his fingers along the man's sterum and ribs carefully watching the elf's reaction to each and every press. he makes a point to avoid the vaguely foot-shaped bruise as he moves further down his torso. things will be easier if he hadn't broken anything, but if he had... well he's sure can find a healer who'd be willing to come out to a seedy motel and help them out. ]
You haven't made me do anything I wasn't already gonna do. [ the tiefling gives Zervan a look before continuing. ] Yeah, Hugo and Lycaon filled me in on the details. Wasn't hard to put two and two together when you apologized for disappearing.
[ and judging by the vaguely foot-shaped bruises his friend is sporting... he can only imagine that they came to blows. ]
[And there's the reaction. The moment those fingers make contact with the area around the bruise, he flinches, inhaling sharply. He does not let himself make more sound than that. Some habits don't die, no matter how hard you try to kill them.]
Ah - there you go. Taking my breath away...!
[He's so funny. So hilarious.] Did they. I am beaten to the punch, so to speak... Or kick. In this case.
[There's still that weird, roiling sense of guilt. That he shouldn't have bothered Molly, shouldn't have reached out - that someone who stood around while supposed friends died yet again didn't really deserve that.]
[ that area is bound to be tender, though it's still difficult for Mollymauk to tell if it's just pure bruising or a broken bone lays underneath. he hums to himself and shifts, moving is hands onwards to ghost a kiss over the bruise as an apology. ]
If you weren't so battered and bruised...
[ is he indulging in Zervan's humor? is he being series? difficult to tell, check in later. ]
I thought I recognized that footprint. There's only one metal legged man in the city as far as I know that loves to kick. [ he ghosts another featherlight kiss over the bruise before shifting back up. ] Looks like he did a number on you, you must've really pissed him off.
Might be a good idea to see if there any healers willing to do a housecall.
Most of me is still very much intact - [He's trying for a laugh as he says it, but that requires too much inhaling. His ribs protest. Sharply.] This is unfair.
[Unfair he's in this position because he'd gotten hurt and not for better ones. Also unfair he's going to have to admit, more, what happened. He could lie, he could say it was all Lycaon's fault, but...]
[He can't. He looks away, as best one can while sprawled under someone.] So I did. Tempers frayed far faster than they should have. For all of us. It... was not his fault.
[A shake of his head.] It will heal. I have healed worse without, before.
The important parts, yeah, but we can't have to wiggling around and hurting yourself even further. [ it's tempting but his friend is hurt and this really the time or place, is it? ] Terribly so. You're practically at my mercy like this.
[ there is something fond in Molly's tone however, one of the hands that had been trailing down Zervan's torso moves up to cup the side of the man's face. it's kind of funny, when he thinks about it, how he had originally thought this little more than a casual fling and here he is now fussing over him. ]
He mentioned the place was soaked in some sort of earth magic, enough that it dulled a number of his senses. [ he shifts a little, leaning down to take the makeshift icepack away from Zervan's nose to check if the swelling had gone down any. ] Don't go blaming yourself either, then. From the sounds of things it wasn't a fun time for anyone.
[ seemingly content that the man's nose is less of a balloon than it was when he arrived, Molly tosses the ice pack into the bucket. ]
Okay then, but it isn't healing here. Come back with me, let me take care of you.
I do not have to wiggle. I can writhe. That could work. [Ah, yeah, his eyebrows still work. Look at them hop up and down.] And I do like being at your mercy.
[When all else fails, you fall into comfortable patterns. You flirt, you make advances - find your pleasure wherever you can, because you could always wake back up at the carnival, watching people die. And do nothing to stop it. Make attachments and that... that just hurts worse. The thought makes him want to pull away from the hand at his cheek.]
[But the comfort he feels at friendly contact is too much. Selfishly comforted.]
Unless someone truly enjoyed death and violence, it was a poor vacation indeed.
[He should go - it's easier to breathe through his nose, now, and that's all that's needed. Right? The rest will heal on its own. He never should have said anything or just waited to contact Molly until it did.]
[He's silent, a bit longer, just looking up at him. There's conflict all over his bruised face, and his voice is fairly quiet, leaning in ever so slightly.]
[ sex is always a good distraction from the chaotic things coursing around their heads. it's a fantastic distraction especially if you find yourself a partner who is incredibly talented at pleasuring you until not a thought is left. and that so happens to be one of Mollymauk's many talents.
but it might be the time, it is definitely not the place. ]
We'll have to make sure to give them a terrible Yelp review.
[ not that he thinks Zervan would know what a Yelp review is the joke had to be made. he laughs softly, amusement twinkling in those ruby red eyes of his, and leans down to press a kiss to the corner of the elf's mouth. ]
[He's internally cursing his current physical status. It would be very, very grounding to get out of his own head for a while and just enjoy himself - have Molly enjoy himself. No strings, no thoughts.]
[Lying here now though, it feels more like he's tied a string he can't bring himself to cut. Even after what happened... after trying to sever it, he just plain couldn't.]
You're a terribly difficult man to say no to... Why do I even try?
[It's a simple kiss, but it feels like it's relaxing something in his shoulders. Without checking in with the rest of him, he angles his head, to better return it.]
Stubborness probably, don't worry you're not the only one.
[ maybe he just feels inexplicably drawn to the ones fighting so hard not to have any bonds, like a moth to a flame. without even trying he keeps finding those kinds of people and watching as they worm their way into his heart. maybe it's because Mollymauk was also that kind of person, who spent so long holding people at arms length that he knows deeply how that isolation feels and is determined not to let them experience the same. either way here he is wrapping another in unbreakable thread and binding them to him.
and here Zevran is letting it happen.
the elf shifts and catches Molly's mouth with his own. he exhales, surprised, before giving into the other man with a low pleased noise from the back of his throat. it's difficult not to deepen the kiss, difficult not to let his lips take a trip down Zervan's body and make him writhe like he said he could earlier. it takes effort to pull back and lick his lips with that forked tongue of his but he manages it, hovering close enough warm breath brushes against Zervan's face. ]
Think you can walk? At least to the curb. I'll call a cab to get us home so we can continue this...
[A lifetime of keeping real closeness at a distance, of knowing it could all be taken the moment he ceased to be useful. The moment they ceased to be useful. Nothing but surface level attachment was the safest, the best. The Warden wormed into his affections, into a friendship he didn't think he was capable of - dragged back to living, even. Then you think, maybe that'd be all right. Make friends here, where there were no Crows...]
[Just the carnival. Tearing them apart with lies. Too familiar. Too close to the chest. Do you regret it-]
[He's going to kiss Molly back with abandon. Well, as much as he can, present situation considered. Reach up a hand and thread it through the other's hair, fight the urge to pull him back in once he pulls back. As much an apology, a thanks, as it is a need to ground himself outside his thoughts.]
[ it would so damn easy to just lose himself in this, in him, chase away whatever terrible memories might be coursing through the elf's head after the last four days. he's tempted but it'd be better to indulge in a more comfortable bed, in a more familiar room. ]
Ridiculously endearing.
[ with a great amount of effort he pulls himself off and away from Zervan, finding his coat in his discarded coat and dialling them a taxi. he spends the wait tending to the worst of the elf's surface wounds, using his shirt as a makeshift bandage to wrap up anything still bleeding before throwing his coat over the other man's shoulders. dangerous, that survival side of his brain hisses, giving his disguise up for the more battered and bruised elf. Mollymauk can lie through his teeth, and he does, and tell the driver he'd been attending an early Halloween party or even something about a passion for costuming.
it takes about fifteen minutes for their cab to arrive, for Molly to guide Zervan to the curb and into the cab. it takes ten minutes for Mollymauk to lie to the driver, using the Halloween party excuse to shake off the weird looks the man gives him as they clamber inside. it appeared to be enough to satisfied him as the drive from the motel room to Molly's apartment goes incredibly smoothly. as does the trip up to his floor and down the hall to his apartment proper. ]
Come on, love, you're gonna finding laying on my bed noticeably better than motel's.
[ now within the safety of his apartment, Mollymauk gently guides Zervan towards the bed and pealing his coat off of the elf's body. he tosses it aside, to be forgotten, placing a quick and cheeky kiss to the man's jaw as he guides him. ]
No rouge springs digging into your back, no suspicious stains, no weird smells. [ another quick kiss along the jaw. ] Me tending to your every want and need.
[It really would be. Everything about this is easy - except the broken bones. That part is definitely painful.]
How else can I keep the people interested, hm?
[He sighs, though, when Molly pulls back, and doesn't put up a fight beyond that. Just the dramatic sigh. There aren't many bloodied places, thankfully. The fighting and the buildup to the Baron's combat mostly consisted of blunt force injuries. But he's not going to argue against Molly's help. Like the touch to his face, like the kiss, it's all a wash of relief - to have genuine, gentle contact instead of the fighting. Something, in all the preparations, has him wrap a hand around Molly's arm, leaning on him with an affected wobble. To steal away attention if he has to, by playing the drunk.]
[He doesn't - in fact, it's impressive, how easy his companion can sway the driver. A mental note to tell Molly that much, as soon as they're out of earshot. Still, he makes an effort to seem intoxicated. That way, if the driver questions him favoring one side, he can pass it off as the drink - no one questions it when people in their cups weave around in their steps.]
[It stops as soon as they're safely indoors. For a moment. Love - a step hitches. He's heard the endearment before. It's a turn of phrase, and he knows it, genuinely. He actually shakes his head at himself, jumping at verbal shadows. A pity he couldn't make the Baron pay more for throwing his thoughts out of line like this, practically touch-starved and clinging.]
You have quite the way with words. You had the driver wrapped about your fingers.
[There is absolutely no resistance to being guided around. He's grinning, the hand still at Molly's arm sliding to his waist.]
Oh no. A handsome man is assessing my needs... why did I ever think to hide away? And how ever shall I repay him for his selfless deeds, hm?
It's easier to lie than let them pepper me with questions about the horns and the tail.
[ he doesn't want to think on that too much because his thoughts are likely to venture down a dark path he isn't in the mood entertaining. he'd rather focus on Zervan, on soothing physical hurts with his hands and lips, on chasing away any of those lingering thoughts and feelings brought on by whatever the elf had experienced in that realm.
it's also helping Molly, keeping him distracted from his own thoughts and worries and that ugly feeling sitting in the middle of his chest. he almost lost Hugo and Lycaon both, almost lost this handsome elf he's grown terribly fond of. he almost lost people he cared about again, they almost slipped through his fingers like sand. he hates it, hates that he had been right beside Hugo when the man vanished, hates that he had been so powerless to stop it all. if Caleb had disappeared too? gods, he doesn't want to think what he would do. who he wouldn't become.
but those thoughts are chased away by Zervan's voice, the hand on his waist, the lips on his own. he needs a distraction, Zervan needs a distraction, and what better way to distract yourself than to lose yourself in the pleasure of another? so he will indulge in the elf, give him everything he needs to feel better, to forget, and everything else? the rest of the world and their respective messes waiting patiently for them to re-emerge from the throws of passion? all of that can fucking wait until morning. ]
What a good thing it is I prefer to pepper you with other things?
[On that note, it's time to stop thinking.]
[He's never been more pleased to have run into this man. To find someone who just seemed to get it. You didn't always need to talk, didn't need to rehash everything and drag the nightmares back out into the light. Sometimes, you just needed to staunch the bleeding and leave things be.]
[It also does something to assuage the weird guilt for wanting to leave at all. Cut off another tie, because what if it was lost again? What if something else happened, and the connection he'd just started to make was severed? It happened among the Crows, it happened with the Warden and the party and...]
[No, he is not thinking. He is enjoying, and he is giving. Lips and hands and that clever, clever tail. That's all that matters right now.]
[And if during the night, he ends up staying close, staying in contact as much as possible, with Molly, then, he can blame the past events.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Molly doesn't wait for Zervan to do as instructed, carefully maneuvering the man over and down onto the motel bed. the moment he gets the other man down he's looking around at the bucket, the towels, and frowns. not exactly the best to deal with everything going on here but it'll have to do. ]
You're hilarious, you know that? [ of course he doesn't believe the explanation, he doesn't even entertain it for less than a few seconds. instead he grabs some of the ice and wraps it up in one of the still intact towels, handing it to Zervan to hold against his nose. ] But it wouldn't surprise me if that's what really happened.
Apologize for what?
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[Of course he says that, and of course he chuckles about it. Up until he's moving, then all the hot air deflates out of him. Blankets bunched up as makeshift pillows to keep himself propped up better, it's infinitely easier to talk while lying here. As annoying as it is to admit.]
True, I am. But... in this case, that is what happened. That, and a woman became a bear. Among other things. [It literally happened, man. Instead of insisting, further, he just accepts the cold pack, holding it in place with another grimace.]
My message, in part. I ... cannot say what else. [His brow furrows.] I do not fully know why.
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[ he shrugs off his coat and tosses it to the side, then peals off his shirt. any other time this would be a herald of things to come, an enjoyable night for the both of them but right now? right now Molly's using his sharp nails to tear up his shirt into makeshift bandages. it's a clean shirt and will likely be better as makeshift bandages than some torn up towels.
red eyes look over the man's chest, taking in every bruise and abrasion. from a quick glance it's doesn't look as though he suffered anything series aside from the broken nose, but it's always hard to tell at a glance whether or not someone's got a broken rib or two. ]
Don't be stupid, you've got nothing to apologize for. [ Molly all but climbs on top of Zervan then, hovering over him on his knees as to not put his weight down on him. ] Some terrible shit happened and you were trying to protect yourself, I get it. Unfortunately for you I'm not easily shaken off.
Gonna check if you've broken anything. Tell me how much it hurts when I press down, okay? [ he leans over then, hands resting on the elf's collar bones and pressing down. ]
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[Zevran may be lying down, and that's not going to stop him from taking in the eye candy, so to speak. He feels like garbage, but hey. Molly is attractive. Shredding clothing? Also attractive.]
[There is an ugly, vaguely foot-shaped bruise on his chest. Scrapes and cuts on his limbs, with another nasty looking bruise rising along the edge of his pants on one hip. The chest is the worst of it, aside from his nose.]
Don't I? I've made you come all this way, for nothing fun. After... telling you I was leaving - [He's still not sure if he should follow through or not. Though the bravado that seeped into his words starts to fall flat the more Molly speaks. Some terrible shit happened-] So you know then? What transpired?
[Boy, he sure wishes he hadn't been so stupid. Having the tiefling leaning over him like this? A beautiful sight. Somehow even more when he can't do anything about it.]
Ah... not at all, there. [He'd made it through with collar bones intact, thankfully.]
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You haven't made me do anything I wasn't already gonna do. [ the tiefling gives Zervan a look before continuing. ] Yeah, Hugo and Lycaon filled me in on the details. Wasn't hard to put two and two together when you apologized for disappearing.
[ and judging by the vaguely foot-shaped bruises his friend is sporting... he can only imagine that they came to blows. ]
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Ah - there you go. Taking my breath away...!
[He's so funny. So hilarious.] Did they. I am beaten to the punch, so to speak... Or kick. In this case.
[There's still that weird, roiling sense of guilt. That he shouldn't have bothered Molly, shouldn't have reached out - that someone who stood around while supposed friends died yet again didn't really deserve that.]
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If you weren't so battered and bruised...
[ is he indulging in Zervan's humor? is he being series? difficult to tell, check in later. ]
I thought I recognized that footprint. There's only one metal legged man in the city as far as I know that loves to kick. [ he ghosts another featherlight kiss over the bruise before shifting back up. ] Looks like he did a number on you, you must've really pissed him off.
Might be a good idea to see if there any healers willing to do a housecall.
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[Unfair he's in this position because he'd gotten hurt and not for better ones. Also unfair he's going to have to admit, more, what happened. He could lie, he could say it was all Lycaon's fault, but...]
[He can't. He looks away, as best one can while sprawled under someone.] So I did. Tempers frayed far faster than they should have. For all of us. It... was not his fault.
[A shake of his head.] It will heal. I have healed worse without, before.
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[ there is something fond in Molly's tone however, one of the hands that had been trailing down Zervan's torso moves up to cup the side of the man's face. it's kind of funny, when he thinks about it, how he had originally thought this little more than a casual fling and here he is now fussing over him. ]
He mentioned the place was soaked in some sort of earth magic, enough that it dulled a number of his senses. [ he shifts a little, leaning down to take the makeshift icepack away from Zervan's nose to check if the swelling had gone down any. ] Don't go blaming yourself either, then. From the sounds of things it wasn't a fun time for anyone.
[ seemingly content that the man's nose is less of a balloon than it was when he arrived, Molly tosses the ice pack into the bucket. ]
Okay then, but it isn't healing here. Come back with me, let me take care of you.
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[When all else fails, you fall into comfortable patterns. You flirt, you make advances - find your pleasure wherever you can, because you could always wake back up at the carnival, watching people die. And do nothing to stop it. Make attachments and that... that just hurts worse. The thought makes him want to pull away from the hand at his cheek.]
[But the comfort he feels at friendly contact is too much. Selfishly comforted.]
Unless someone truly enjoyed death and violence, it was a poor vacation indeed.
[He should go - it's easier to breathe through his nose, now, and that's all that's needed. Right? The rest will heal on its own. He never should have said anything or just waited to contact Molly until it did.]
[He's silent, a bit longer, just looking up at him. There's conflict all over his bruised face, and his voice is fairly quiet, leaning in ever so slightly.]
You won't take no for an answer, I assume.
no subject
[ sex is always a good distraction from the chaotic things coursing around their heads. it's a fantastic distraction especially if you find yourself a partner who is incredibly talented at pleasuring you until not a thought is left. and that so happens to be one of Mollymauk's many talents.
but it might be the time, it is definitely not the place. ]
We'll have to make sure to give them a terrible Yelp review.
[ not that he thinks Zervan would know what a Yelp review is the joke had to be made. he laughs softly, amusement twinkling in those ruby red eyes of his, and leans down to press a kiss to the corner of the elf's mouth. ]
You got it.
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[He's internally cursing his current physical status. It would be very, very grounding to get out of his own head for a while and just enjoy himself - have Molly enjoy himself. No strings, no thoughts.]
[Lying here now though, it feels more like he's tied a string he can't bring himself to cut. Even after what happened... after trying to sever it, he just plain couldn't.]
You're a terribly difficult man to say no to... Why do I even try?
[It's a simple kiss, but it feels like it's relaxing something in his shoulders. Without checking in with the rest of him, he angles his head, to better return it.]
[So much for severing bonds.]
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[ maybe he just feels inexplicably drawn to the ones fighting so hard not to have any bonds, like a moth to a flame. without even trying he keeps finding those kinds of people and watching as they worm their way into his heart. maybe it's because Mollymauk was also that kind of person, who spent so long holding people at arms length that he knows deeply how that isolation feels and is determined not to let them experience the same. either way here he is wrapping another in unbreakable thread and binding them to him.
and here Zevran is letting it happen.
the elf shifts and catches Molly's mouth with his own. he exhales, surprised, before giving into the other man with a low pleased noise from the back of his throat. it's difficult not to deepen the kiss, difficult not to let his lips take a trip down Zervan's body and make him writhe like he said he could earlier. it takes effort to pull back and lick his lips with that forked tongue of his but he manages it, hovering close enough warm breath brushes against Zervan's face. ]
Think you can walk? At least to the curb. I'll call a cab to get us home so we can continue this...
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[A lifetime of keeping real closeness at a distance, of knowing it could all be taken the moment he ceased to be useful. The moment they ceased to be useful. Nothing but surface level attachment was the safest, the best. The Warden wormed into his affections, into a friendship he didn't think he was capable of - dragged back to living, even. Then you think, maybe that'd be all right. Make friends here, where there were no Crows...]
[Just the carnival. Tearing them apart with lies. Too familiar. Too close to the chest. Do you regret it-]
[He's going to kiss Molly back with abandon. Well, as much as he can, present situation considered. Reach up a hand and thread it through the other's hair, fight the urge to pull him back in once he pulls back. As much an apology, a thanks, as it is a need to ground himself outside his thoughts.]
I can. I am... ridiculously awesome, after all.
no subject
Ridiculously endearing.
[ with a great amount of effort he pulls himself off and away from Zervan, finding his coat in his discarded coat and dialling them a taxi. he spends the wait tending to the worst of the elf's surface wounds, using his shirt as a makeshift bandage to wrap up anything still bleeding before throwing his coat over the other man's shoulders. dangerous, that survival side of his brain hisses, giving his disguise up for the more battered and bruised elf. Mollymauk can lie through his teeth, and he does, and tell the driver he'd been attending an early Halloween party or even something about a passion for costuming.
it takes about fifteen minutes for their cab to arrive, for Molly to guide Zervan to the curb and into the cab. it takes ten minutes for Mollymauk to lie to the driver, using the Halloween party excuse to shake off the weird looks the man gives him as they clamber inside. it appeared to be enough to satisfied him as the drive from the motel room to Molly's apartment goes incredibly smoothly. as does the trip up to his floor and down the hall to his apartment proper. ]
Come on, love, you're gonna finding laying on my bed noticeably better than motel's.
[ now within the safety of his apartment, Mollymauk gently guides Zervan towards the bed and pealing his coat off of the elf's body. he tosses it aside, to be forgotten, placing a quick and cheeky kiss to the man's jaw as he guides him. ]
No rouge springs digging into your back, no suspicious stains, no weird smells. [ another quick kiss along the jaw. ] Me tending to your every want and need.
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How else can I keep the people interested, hm?
[He sighs, though, when Molly pulls back, and doesn't put up a fight beyond that. Just the dramatic sigh. There aren't many bloodied places, thankfully. The fighting and the buildup to the Baron's combat mostly consisted of blunt force injuries. But he's not going to argue against Molly's help. Like the touch to his face, like the kiss, it's all a wash of relief - to have genuine, gentle contact instead of the fighting. Something, in all the preparations, has him wrap a hand around Molly's arm, leaning on him with an affected wobble. To steal away attention if he has to, by playing the drunk.]
[He doesn't - in fact, it's impressive, how easy his companion can sway the driver. A mental note to tell Molly that much, as soon as they're out of earshot. Still, he makes an effort to seem intoxicated. That way, if the driver questions him favoring one side, he can pass it off as the drink - no one questions it when people in their cups weave around in their steps.]
[It stops as soon as they're safely indoors. For a moment. Love - a step hitches. He's heard the endearment before. It's a turn of phrase, and he knows it, genuinely. He actually shakes his head at himself, jumping at verbal shadows. A pity he couldn't make the Baron pay more for throwing his thoughts out of line like this, practically touch-starved and clinging.]
You have quite the way with words. You had the driver wrapped about your fingers.
[There is absolutely no resistance to being guided around. He's grinning, the hand still at Molly's arm sliding to his waist.]
Oh no. A handsome man is assessing my needs... why did I ever think to hide away? And how ever shall I repay him for his selfless deeds, hm?
[Maybe by leaning up to kiss him back.]
no subject
[ he doesn't want to think on that too much because his thoughts are likely to venture down a dark path he isn't in the mood entertaining. he'd rather focus on Zervan, on soothing physical hurts with his hands and lips, on chasing away any of those lingering thoughts and feelings brought on by whatever the elf had experienced in that realm.
it's also helping Molly, keeping him distracted from his own thoughts and worries and that ugly feeling sitting in the middle of his chest. he almost lost Hugo and Lycaon both, almost lost this handsome elf he's grown terribly fond of. he almost lost people he cared about again, they almost slipped through his fingers like sand. he hates it, hates that he had been right beside Hugo when the man vanished, hates that he had been so powerless to stop it all. if Caleb had disappeared too? gods, he doesn't want to think what he would do. who he wouldn't become.
but those thoughts are chased away by Zervan's voice, the hand on his waist, the lips on his own. he needs a distraction, Zervan needs a distraction, and what better way to distract yourself than to lose yourself in the pleasure of another? so he will indulge in the elf, give him everything he needs to feel better, to forget, and everything else? the rest of the world and their respective messes waiting patiently for them to re-emerge from the throws of passion? all of that can fucking wait until morning. ]
no subject
[On that note, it's time to stop thinking.]
[He's never been more pleased to have run into this man. To find someone who just seemed to get it. You didn't always need to talk, didn't need to rehash everything and drag the nightmares back out into the light. Sometimes, you just needed to staunch the bleeding and leave things be.]
[It also does something to assuage the weird guilt for wanting to leave at all. Cut off another tie, because what if it was lost again? What if something else happened, and the connection he'd just started to make was severed? It happened among the Crows, it happened with the Warden and the party and...]
[No, he is not thinking. He is enjoying, and he is giving. Lips and hands and that clever, clever tail. That's all that matters right now.]
[And if during the night, he ends up staying close, staying in contact as much as possible, with Molly, then, he can blame the past events.]