[ Clawed fingers drag along his ribs and spine, and perhaps it's merely the intoxicant flooding his own veins, but the sensation lulls his own ever-chaotic thoughts. Lucius allows a deep breath to gust from his nose, and again, of his body's own accord, there is that rumbling sound from deep in his chest. He hasn't thought on it much before, but for a moment, he finds himself lingering over the way Eridanus' touch seems to coax it out from him.

He doesn't feel any shame—just curiosity over this little change, the same way the expressive motion of his ears is a novelty. As Eridanus' body relaxes beneath him, so does his own, limbs lazy and slack as Lucius allows his weight to settle comfortably atop the other man. ]

Oh, my beast, [ Lucius begins to answer, the laugh in his voice hitching the words, ] there is so much more I can give you.

[ But even as he answers, there is a dangerous thought in the back of his head—that he knows that heady elation, where to simply have that one particular man turn his gaze upon him would nearly be enough for him to die happy. The simple idea sends his blood racing quicker in his veins, and he can feel his own heartbeat in his chest as his tongue darts across his lips. ]

There is my touch, [ he lifts his head with an impish smile, brushing the backs of his knuckles over Eridanus' cheek, ] or perhaps I could reward you with a gift of my own. Wouldn't that be lovely?

[ He thinks about the gift he has already meant to pass to his hand—but now isn't the time for it, and neither is it meant to be held over his head as the carrot. His mind drifts around to the idea of armor again, and it's true: it would be so much more befitting of him, even in this diminished form. His eyes fall half-lidded as he lets himself savor the image of himself that Eridanus paints in his mind, blood-soaked and powerful. ]

Golden — is that the color you think suits me best?

[ Now his smile takes on a flirtatious cast, to match his voice. ]