[The threat of teeth at his throat and claws punching skin has Eridanus hissing a breath through the clenched thicket of his fangs, his own gaze going heavy-lidded as he pulls himself away from the hunger that would have him push his consort down onto the floor like a beast. This moment has importance, he warns himself, an importance that won't be so quickly devolved into the rutting of animals in heat.
So despite those claws that would drag across his hips, thin silk no deterrent for the ruddy welts no doubt left behind, Eridanus pulls away. Cool air swathes him in place of the warmth Lucius' body has provided, and he catches just the barest hint of gooseflesh on the immaculate form of his Eternal before turning his attention to that golden armor. From its stand, he pulls the breastplate off and begins to undo the buckles at its sides that would allow it to be slid over Lucius. Once the piece has been properly undone, Eridanus proffers it with a blissful smile upon his face.]
Raise your arms, my Eternal.
[And he waits, patiently, until that is exactly done. The metal is cool to the touch, sliding over Lucius' flesh with an ease that truly speaks to his attention to detail. He had been strict with the armorer, to make the suit just as perfect as the man who would soon wear it; and once it's slotted over his form, Eridanus would step around him to do all the many buckles that would keep it in place.]
no subject
So despite those claws that would drag across his hips, thin silk no deterrent for the ruddy welts no doubt left behind, Eridanus pulls away. Cool air swathes him in place of the warmth Lucius' body has provided, and he catches just the barest hint of gooseflesh on the immaculate form of his Eternal before turning his attention to that golden armor. From its stand, he pulls the breastplate off and begins to undo the buckles at its sides that would allow it to be slid over Lucius. Once the piece has been properly undone, Eridanus proffers it with a blissful smile upon his face.]
Raise your arms, my Eternal.
[And he waits, patiently, until that is exactly done. The metal is cool to the touch, sliding over Lucius' flesh with an ease that truly speaks to his attention to detail. He had been strict with the armorer, to make the suit just as perfect as the man who would soon wear it; and once it's slotted over his form, Eridanus would step around him to do all the many buckles that would keep it in place.]
How does it feel?