"I doubt it, but perhaps we'll manage at least one," Vander replied dryly. Considering Cid climbed into his lap without looking at the paper, he expected that whatever requirements were still in effect. "At least one of us is... this hasn't been a scenario I've been in for a few years. Must be all these charms of yours."
And well, since arriving here, Vander had invested a lot of time to exercising and returning to form, both in a lack of anything better to do and because he knew that everything about this place would be a fight. He tucked his elbows in to hold the roll of his shirt, and there was a distinct ugly black twisted scar on the left side of his abdomen. The skin around it was discoloured and mottled.
He shifted so his fingers to work open his multi-clasp belt, which was meant to look aesthetically complicated but was mostly three latches before he was pulling it open. His eyes followed the motions of Cid's devesting even as his hands worked open the buttons of his trousers, and he set his feet to lift his ass from the seat while still remaining stable for the spot Cid was perched on while also undressing. He slid his trousers down midthigh, having to stop because there was a guy still in his lap and that was good enough.
He had not been lying about his size either; he was well-portioned for being a man over six and a half feet tall. His cock curved up to his belly, bobbing as he moved his hands up to stroke over the discolouration on Cid's arm before leaning in and mouthing the other man's neck. His fingers walked over scars, and his own body showed signs of hard labour and even yellow fading bruises, old scabs from brawling against opponents with weapons and old scars.
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And well, since arriving here, Vander had invested a lot of time to exercising and returning to form, both in a lack of anything better to do and because he knew that everything about this place would be a fight. He tucked his elbows in to hold the roll of his shirt, and there was a distinct ugly black twisted scar on the left side of his abdomen. The skin around it was discoloured and mottled.
He shifted so his fingers to work open his multi-clasp belt, which was meant to look aesthetically complicated but was mostly three latches before he was pulling it open. His eyes followed the motions of Cid's devesting even as his hands worked open the buttons of his trousers, and he set his feet to lift his ass from the seat while still remaining stable for the spot Cid was perched on while also undressing. He slid his trousers down midthigh, having to stop because there was a guy still in his lap and that was good enough.
He had not been lying about his size either; he was well-portioned for being a man over six and a half feet tall. His cock curved up to his belly, bobbing as he moved his hands up to stroke over the discolouration on Cid's arm before leaning in and mouthing the other man's neck. His fingers walked over scars, and his own body showed signs of hard labour and even yellow fading bruises, old scabs from brawling against opponents with weapons and old scars.
"I've showed you mine, your turn, swordmaster."