[ Admittedly, the scar does still bother him. It is still fresh, only three months old, and the wound was deep and severe. He'd died from it, after all, according to Clive. The bitterly cold mornings of that first month had been agonizing, but he hadn't complained about it. Particularly with Clive dying shortly after their arrival.
But here, now, with Dion's lips pressing fluttering kisses along the scar, tracing his way up, he finds that the scar doesn't bother him. Not the look of it, and not the twinges and aches. Dion isn't bothered by it, so he won't be either.
The stolen kiss interrupts anything he might say in response, and frankly, it doesn't bother him that it does. He can in a moment. ]
We can remind each other, then. For I very much like hearing it from your lips. You make it sound so much more enticing.
[ There's mirth in his voice, soft as it is. And he will gladly move in to steal a kiss of his own, now that they have both been divested of their shirts. But this time he doesn't just steal it - he claims Dion's lips, with a fervor like a man possessed. ]
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But here, now, with Dion's lips pressing fluttering kisses along the scar, tracing his way up, he finds that the scar doesn't bother him. Not the look of it, and not the twinges and aches. Dion isn't bothered by it, so he won't be either.
The stolen kiss interrupts anything he might say in response, and frankly, it doesn't bother him that it does. He can in a moment. ]
We can remind each other, then. For I very much like hearing it from your lips. You make it sound so much more enticing.
[ There's mirth in his voice, soft as it is. And he will gladly move in to steal a kiss of his own, now that they have both been divested of their shirts. But this time he doesn't just steal it - he claims Dion's lips, with a fervor like a man possessed. ]