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“Mm.” Sajah nodded.

It was everything Leukos said, and Sajah was entirely content to walk as far as the other man saw fit. The sand was pleasant beneath his feet, the night new and fresh, and as they did eventually close in on Leukos’ planned-for destination, it did smell phenomenal, inspiring a quiet rumble in his gut at the whiff of meat and spices. As Leukos grew excited and bounced on ahead, Sajah followed at slightly more gradual rate, leaving the showmanship and talking (obviously) to his companion.

But, he was still more than near enough to hear and observe in full detail as the other man worked his ‘magic,’ and he could hardly help the returning sprinkles of amusement that came with it. The man never turned off. By the time he returned to Sajah’s side, Sajahka’s eyebrows arched neatly, and he took the offered food with relish—but it did nothing to tone down the glint in his eye. If anything, eating only seemed to add spice to the moment, for he hadn’t eaten much that day, it was delicious, and once he’d satisfied the initial sharpest edge of his hunger, he let his focus move back predominantly to Leukos.

He debated only a moment before tracing loosely with a toe in the sand: of course woman prefer man with tongue - luck I prefer man

And here I thought you were a man of few words…

Sajah watched as Leukos went on. It was a common mistake, to assume that because he didn’t speak, he had little to say, but in truth to Sajah it always felt like held within him a sack or balloon filled to the bursting point with everything he wished to say, lashed off tight at the only exit and allowed only to trickle the occasional drop out. He had learned over the years to deal with it — he had no choice in that regard after all — but still all the words sat there, buzzing and waiting, unlikely ever to be voiced. Except perhaps to Nyko later, since there at least he had a means of doing so.

He wondered if it would have been different, had he been born mute or lost his ability to speak before he had learned to. Would it have felt less like such a loss, then, if he’d never had it to begin with?

Those, though, were thoughts for another time, and fortunately, Leukos made it exceedingly easy to think of other things. His gaze dropped to the man’s mouth the instant he put the meat there and as simply as that the heat was back, climbing up the sides of his throat. His attention moved from the sausage, down to — well, Leukos had generously angled most of his backside in his direction, so — that, and then up again. Though it probably didn’t need saying in quite so explicit terms, Sajah did believe in being clear, so, he reached with his toe, this time taking only a second to trace in the sand:

yes

After half a second and a head tip, he underlined it for emphasis. Yes, I would like and you may like, and you may have or I will. Yes, I agree and understand and consent and want, and yes, you have my attention. Besides:

mine is better

He notched his head to indicate the sausage, leaving an implicit ‘than that’ unwritten.

Given his now semi-extensive experience with it, it did not take Sajah long to realize that something had been lost in translation. Again. Between the arch of Leukos’ eyebrows, his tone and comeback, and the almost challenging, peacocking manner with which he moved in, Sajah could guess the next moment what he thought had been said, and-

Well, by the time Leukos’ hand was at his back and his breath at Sajah’s ear, it didn’t all seem to matter very much so long as it all continued to move forward like this. Leukos did not seem genuinely offended and if he wanted to turn it into a mating dance of bravado and forward showmanship, who was he to back away from a challenge?

So, even as the heat of Leukos’ breath still tickled at his throat, he reached, catching behind Leukos’ hip and turning in a near pivot to bring them face to face, chest to chest, and — with another hand to Leukos’ opposite hip, catching to hold and tug at his waistbelt there — pelvis to pelvis, which, with a grind of his hips, at least made no secret of how much Sajah was enjoying the night’s festivities. And, so long as no one else saw, he reasoned, it would be alright that he had to press up onto his toes the sand in order to reach Leukos’ ear with his lips when he leaned in—and then with his teeth.

When he dropped back to put breathing space between them, it felt as though he had just finished dancing again, or still was. In the sand he scrawled:

do it

As he was hooked in, Sajah allowed himself to be tugged, leaning with the pull and giving a puff of an exhale when Leukos stopped just short of—well, anything, except to speak. When after that he dropped further away still, Sajah frowned, and gave a snort at the tap to his backside. That hadn’t been what he’d written. But at least in this case, he knew Leukos knew that as well as he, and there didn’t seem to be any immediate harm in the re-interpretation.

It was more or less accurate, though he would have to make clear at some point that there were limits to what he was willing to engage in with a stranger. That, though, could wait until it was more imminently appropriate.

As Leukos continued, though, Sajah relaxed further still, for everything suggested sounded agreeable so far as he was concerned, and if it pleased Leukos as well that seemed all the more reason to encourage it. Leukos leaned in, taking Sajah’s hair into his fingers, and Sajah’s eyes dropped again to the man’s lips. This time, he didn’t bother with the sand. It didn’t seem necessary.

“Mm.” He nodded the affirmative, and then notched his head, gesturing out with a hand in an inviting, ‘You first…’ manner. If it was to be Leukos’ house, only he could guide after all.

I’ve never done it with someone who can’t talk before…

Sajahka snorted softly, watching and listening as Leukos went on. Occasionally, his mind provided answering commentary. Remarks he could have slipped in if he’d had the means, but nothing worth writing out. He wondered if this was how it felt to be on the receiving end of, ‘I’ve never done it with a blonde before…’ ‘I’ve never done it with a fish before…’ ‘I’ve never done it with an amputee before…’ Well, you may soon check off that ‘f-ck a mute’ box on your bucket list, do you feel particularly well rounded now? But Leukos seemed pleased with himself, and earnest — well intended, if not especially tactful — and Sajah certainly was not hurt, so as the corner of his lip edged up with amusement at his own internal musings, he allowed the topic to pass on with the rest of them.

It was more important that Leukos seemed to genuinely recognize and be ready for assertions of boundaries, and by the time he reached the subject of hair, Sajah’s attention had moved on with him. He didn’t personally pay his own appearance much, if any, mind. He dressed for public decency, protection from the elements, and as a means of concealing his weapons. His hair — well, he supposed it was styled, but once the way it was, it was reasonably easy to maintain.

When Leukos unbound his hair, Sajah watched with particularly intent interest. Though he didn’t pay his own much mind, he loved to see it on others on display—and, of course, it didn’t hurt that he knew Nyko enjoyed to have his touched. He could have reached then and there, to touch, catch, bury his fingers in it. But he knew there would be time, and it would only be a matter of minutes before it would be more appropriate. And he was right.

As soon as Leukos’ door shut behind them, there seemed to be an excited finality to the situation, and as Leukos’ lips touched to his throat, he found he couldn’t have agreed more with the first assertion out of the man’s mouth. Weapons went first, thunking one by one to the floor as he unfastened them from their various locations — at his wrists, his hip, his back, his thigh, his boot.

Then everything else.