[OOM] Refuge

[antivan_leather]

Zevran's room may be small, but it is safe, and at the moment that counts for a lot. Only once they're inside, with the door securely locked behind them, does the assassin manage to relax somewhat. Not too much, though, because he does feel that he owes his friend an apology for what happened

Comments

[whipped_weapon]

"It wasn't your fault." Zak says, carefully. "It was a cursed machine. If no one else could stand up against its... manipulations, how can I possibly blame you?"

The drow was doing his best to squash this inappropriate desire flat, and failing miserably. Apparently, not even the flights of stairs leading to the seventh floor didn't do much to curb it. And Zak was fairly sure he now had the image of Zevran's dancing burned across his retinas, and his subconscious.

Yes, this would be featuring in his Reverie for years to come, he was certain. Now he had two options. First, cave into the desire, and find out the answers to those questions that his idle mind had taunted him with, whenever he'd seen Zevran in his now semi-regular state of half-nakedness (or complete nudity, given his infrared vision was very good), or just try to brush it off and stay on their current footing

[antivan_leather]

"Still, it was... perhaps not the wisest decision on my part. True, I did not wish to see you forced to perform if you did not wish to, but after the machine's last selection, I should have expected something equally..." Not inappropriate, because the first song hadn't been, really. "Equally unfortunate

[whipped_weapon]

Zevran's catching his wrist is a surprise to Zak. Did it mean that Zevran had changed his mind? Or... no. Zevran's words were even more surprising, because most people would have already taken Zak's gratitude and run with it, had they wanted to bed him.

This consideration for his needs raises Zak's estimation of him considerably, and his answer is given with a slight smile. "I am not doing this under duress. Nor because of a debt. I am doing this because... " And then he flushed, as the smile turns slightly sheepish. "Well, I did say your dance was fascinating, did I not? That was an understatement. I do believe the sight of you dancing like that will be permanently etched on my mind, and will likely occupy my Reverie for the next century."

[antivan_leather]

The reassurance that his friend does, in fact, want this for what it is, gives Zevran the leeway to relax. He gives a broad, lazy smile and releases the other elf's wrist; it turns into a grin when Zak admits just how much he enjoyed the Antivan's dancing, and the smaller elf tilts his head.

"O-ho, what's this? You flatter me, Zaknafein. How much you learn of how best to play me, in one short month." He reaches up and cups his friend's cheek, the caress warm and lingering. Then he lifts himself up on his toes, just enough to press a light, undemanding kiss to Zak's mouth, before letting himself down once more and stepping back.

"Make yourself comfortable, my dear Zak," Zevran purrs, eyes heavy-lidded. "I will only be a few minutes." The elf fishes a gold-trimmed crimson tunic out of his wardrobe, then slips into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. After a few moments, the sound of buckles and leather being set aside is replaced with that of running water.