Welcome to Gaia! ::

The room was overrun with elephants of the mental variety, that room being the inside of his vast yet hollow skull; their ceaseless, booming trumpeting filling the void in place of his own thoughts. Their demands were wild, unmatched, untamable.

Not that Waru was about to let that ruin his chance at a good time!

Faustite wasn't 100%, but? Waru felt like the man wasn't going to expire into ash if he closed his eyes for five whole seconds, or left a room longer than it took to piss -- which, fascinating fact? Took twenty-one seconds! He snorted over knowing something so ridiculous, sighed over His own personal anxiety was down, low, snuffed embers of a phase that he could live and leave with at his leisure. It was a little easier to do now, there was breathing room. He was feeling less selfishly clingy even as the cold had shifted from that nice soft onset into one that was either harsh enough to n** his balls nights or gentle mid fifties outta ******** nowhere!

Not that his wanting to see Trey had anything to do with that, not entirely. The truth was that he missed the man with a ferocity. Craved those cool, collected waters so opposite to his husbands raging fires. The specific sort of downtime he felt was shared with Trey was something worth being missed.

Besides that? There seemed to be ten million other things going on! Missives had gone out about a challenge macabre as it was, to Waru, funny. Then of course there'd been the presents!! Gently mawed by what Waru guessed was something very mammal shaped, with teeth, n youma breath to boot, but otherwise in perfect condition!

He'd gotten especially irritated looks from Headache as he'd crowed about that, waning and waxing on eternally about how he needed to pay Muri back with something somehow! And then tangeted himself into a state of chaotic focus over the numerous people he'd gotten ******** all gifts for--

Rants his husband had slept through, which headache had not. Maybe even could not? Though Waru couldn'tve been sure of anything other than the fact that Headache tickled most when he was a scrawl of bugs roaming across his skin, morse coding in ten-thousand tiny tip-taps, *How long until we can eat this one?* All bugs, all the time, not a tooth or claw to be seen. Even though Waru sometimes felt there could be the threat of one hidden in the Youmas more formless shapes and peopleless mimicries...

That thought ran on, entertained him even as his body carved it's own path down halls empty and not, around corners new and old--

Of course it was only after arriving at his destination, standing outside that same wooden door he'd threatened to piss on when it'd belonged to some other general whose name he sparsely remembered, that Waru realized the door he stood before was entirely different. Oh, the aura was the ******** same, Fafnir's through and through! Mind that it was amplified and umphed in a direction that made him wish for a snakes tongue just so he could taste it better on the air; rather than settle for the simple human limitation of feeling it simmer across his skin.

But the ******** Door was new!

New upgrade, new office, and in a fit of amused intrigue, a bout of rare respect, Albite dared to knock---

Because even a broken clock could be right every now n then.

Waru was proud of himself! Twice in as many days he’d managed being polite and twice he’d been let in — dragged in by his collar — given permission to enter — allowed. There was something about the simplistic joy inherent in such a small thing as being welcomed instead of barging, taking, having what was neither denied nor given! There was pleasure in the pause and pleasure in finding enough patience to enjoy the waiting—-

Something he would’ve never felt pleased over before, but did now—

It was new, he was enjoying it, let up myself into the room and did little to smother his own grin.

Got a face full of glow bug for his troubles—-

An oh-so very familiar glow-bug.

Even as he winced under the batting of intrusive light attached to such a soft bobbing form, he crowed happily, tried to peer around the thing his face was full of at the rooms second occupant.

“Holy s**t, you’ve got a friend!!”

And of course Fafnir would be behind his desk, seat of power, central to the space.

Always in control.

And ********, but Waru had nearly forgotten how much he loved seeing it. Here. Now. all that cunning on display, and even as he reached to brush his knuckles over the weaving orb ever so gently—

His focus was on the main attraction in the room.

“*Fafnir—*”

And it couldn’t be a bad thing, could it? To miss the man like frost bite in the summer. To want to *still*, deep down, watch all that neatly coifed composure shimmer under every new rock he threw, however small. Until the dragon he knew wore said guise shed it like some weak, papery, second skin.

Waru was sure it couldn’t’ve be been bad at all! Kept that all well in mind as he shut the door to Fafnirs space carelessly, closed the distance between them till he could lean over the man’s desk from the other side — arches of his palms against the edge of the sturdy framework — putting himself on display even as he cooed at the other eternal gleefully.

“Dragons-den Daddy of my hellfire fricasseed heart—-“

There were cat-five levels worth of words waiting behind the worn weather stripping of his own tiny, hanging on by a single hinge, mental doors. All the ways he wanted to dredge up an enteritis worth of woes, to ramble endlessly on about how he now understood why Senshi bothered with all the re-incarnation bullshit business—

A lifetime was never enough time to manage anything. He understood this now. Understood that the only way to sort any of his own s**t out was to go to someone who understood!! Who hade shared in drinking from the most ill fated power granting fountains as he had. Shared brothers and lovers and *types* against all fuxking odds!!!

And now there was a wisp——

Single glowing orb of bright joy all up in his face and Waru was beside himself over the damn thing! His every careful thought and well laid mental track so utterly derailed— The conductor had clearly stepped out to piss in the wind and eat all the roses he could smell. Who the ******** knew when he’d come back n get all the trains timely n on track once more. Eventually, surely?

“How long have you had a new office for? Hell! How long have you had this cute little guy n not told me?” All leer and jeer for the dragon he loved most — all soft for the company that continued to flit freely about the room. “Lucky b*****d—they’re always the best like this—ughh—the baby stages! *You’ve gotta get all the pics—”* the suggestion held as much jealous longing as it did the tease of teeth. An empty, contextless warning of what was to come. Any elaboration as to the why any such things were necessary now, instead of later? Were lost as quickly as Warus attention span would permit them to be—

And even when m'towering over him? M'never really over him, am I?

The thought a burr of warmth as the cold spark he caught in the other mans gaze curled around his spine. Snugged up nice and close in ways that left him fighting back the urge to blush — to fidget under such familiar scrutiny — it was maybe better he stepped back a hair in respectful acknowledgement of all the things Trey owned; before he gave into the reckless urge to climb atop it all and cement his place in the center of Fafnir's neat, orderly operation. Or worse? Offer to spend the entire rest of his day under the mans desk.

He thought it would've been quiet down there at least, peaceful, mind-numbingly so. To settle into a space and be utterly enveloped by cool grays, obsidian marble. To curl up against cool, dark hard-wood floors, and admire the clean white and gold lines that streaked the remaining surroundings like a forest on fire. Everything in it's place, reeking of regality, owned by the royalest of blue bloods----

Waru’s smile stayed; less ‘******** you, bite me’ and more warm ‘hello’ than it’d been before. The wisp on his periphery got gentle acknowledgment every-time it came near, the temptation to blow on it and see how far it flew only a brief fizzle of a flitting thought.

"Have you met Cerbs?" And it was a genuine ask, entirely on him that he couldn’t remember introducing the two or not! "Oh, or Squeaks? Hestias little hell-raiser of a bitty-bat--" and squeaks had definitely *not* been the creatures name! But names were never his forte to begin with.

"You should—But, like, don't get your skirt-tails tangled overthinking any of it too much. S'ah good omen these guys---" his opinion on the subject was pleasant yet firm. All the ways he could’ve naked that Cerb’s had saved his hide — that he’d watched Hestia’s lovely little familiar of an eternal friend come of the utmost absolute use in tricky situations! He welcomed the questions, remembered Almondjoys words on the creatures themselves—-

"Helio even managed to luck into one of the little wisps recently! C'n you imagine? His place fulluv'ah Mau to be, a nuisance of a cosmic companion, and me?" Found himself waxing nostalgic for a moment in the circumstances that’d led him to finding his own horde of wisps that would one day become the tribis — with Faustite — the stab of longing, of sadness. The searingly stark difference of Helios own experience. No fun bets, no happy happenstances—-

Blood and bodies and a bobbing orb….

"The only thing that'd make him any happier would be if we moved you in too--" and the words were offered jokingly, with the barest sliver of sarcastic snark. The realization that he really could pick the most hardheaded ******** to give his absolute all too. That a shattered cup could hold no water. Not even fully submerged in the caring-est of oceans! Not till it was put back together, or better yet? Accepted as it was, more decorative shards than whole vessel, but no less lovely a thing.

And the fireproof chairs suddenly seemed oh so very appealing to take a seat in, looked comfortably sleek as they did new and rarely used.

Oooh--don'tchu know it Faffls!

He let himself feel prideful for a moment. Grinned for how the gossip mill hadn't failed him one damn bit. Though he wondered what sort of reputation his shadow cast -- for whom -- If Cerbs was talked up as a soft-mannered nuisance, or a hurricane squall of ********. No way to know unless he asked those who knew! No way to find out how Trey would feel about that until it actually happened.

Waru was of a mind that they would meet--

Cerberus and Fafnir.

That he would invariably send Cerbs (that menace only to he who was himself of a cosmic-type, extraplanar-b***h of a being!) right along the poison-typed Eternals way. That as long as he was hanging around Fafnir? That the pairs meeting was as inevitable an occurrence as a sunrise, and maybe once it'd happened? He'd explain to the man that he didn't need to look so put off over the thought of his delicate little float-poff becoming anything so feathery, feisty, or hellacious as he was sure some of the rumors would suggest.

Hell, he had half a mind to try and summon Cerbs to him now! Just so he could watch the change of features on Trey's face. To absorb himself in them; every new look, every single bit of so-cold-it-burned acceptance and nitro-in-the-arctic blast of disapproval. He felt a familiar fondness for that, the way it latched onto the base of his spine and pulled him to sit across from Fafnir with ease; splaying his own legs shamelessly. As though trying to be respectful of the other man's presence, while still claiming some small slice of the room as his own. Even if it was just the guest chair. He wanted to belong, afterall. Like the gilded books and obsessively arranged displays that lined the shelves behind them.

Fafnir's equal, but also? Oh-so-much more. Because he allowed it to be that way, because he knew better than to challenge any of those murky concepts and still waters *here*. He wasn't of a mind today to start pissing on altars in private spaces, to go spitting on hallowed ground and into holy water. He could always get his kicks for being irreverent another day.

Tomorrow---

Next week?

He would pencil the time the ******** in, or? Meh...he had a secretary, right? Subordinates? Something like that! So maybe he'd have someone else pencil it in for him! When Trey was in far less magnanimous a mood and waaaay less dressed to kill than he was in this exact moment—

“Hmmm, well I suppose that’s fair. I mean, with so meager a damn ‘house’ as what you have? I really can’t blame you for wanting to share it with just the one other person, insteadah’ three—“ and it was brief joy, light tease, the way he held Fafnir's eyes before the drifting ball of light atop the man’s desk inevitably pulled his gaze. Distracted him right back to chewing on why he’d come here in the first place.

To discuss how friends, family, lovers — all the ways it seemed they had a type. All the ways those types could be hardheaded, asshats. However occasional or brief. However permanent a personality trait in some instances—

“Helio is trying to do better though, I think? In his own way. He still dances. He got a new cat! A Mau — he calls her Ophelia, but she looks like a Beans to me. His pride is still that lions-share…” and all the parts of himself that agreed with Trey wholeheartedly! Also wished there was another way, an easier one, one that didn’t involve saying the obvious and waiting for the other person to — for their own damn good — find the strength of will to act upon it.

“Faustite has divorced himself of the guy, quite ******** literally—it was a s**t-show of a mess,“ and it had been for the better, Waru had ultimately decided so many weeks later. It would never be his place to judge what his husband did with his heart and by that same logic, judge those who offered theirs up in turn.

He liked sharing afterall, numbers too big for him to count, and the kinda happiness that ensconced a world like honey. All sorts of deadly, sticky, sickly sweet! Couldn’t imagine being stingy if he’d tried—

But, ********>

If he’d known even one single thing about the pair's past before the rings had been quietly broken out n exchanged? If he’d known how differently they’d grown up after growing apart. Or which stages of change they both lived in presently—

He might’ve at least suggested some counseling.

Sure as hell wouldn’t’ve stuck his own foot so far down his throat, screaming of the pairs ‘twin flamedness’ that was obviously born from shared experiences! That was something he still deeply believed in, however foolhardy and fantastical it all seemed now.

Eion had wanted it, Aelius had wanted it, he’d wanted it for them—

If only I’d ******** known.

“Though, in a lotta ways that might be a good thing? With how Ei’s doing now—with the fact that—With all the healing he’s tryna do for himself, y’know? N’add to that the fact that he might be leaving for awhile once he’s got the energy up for it. Goin’ t’places we can’t follow….”And there was some residual sting there, a hard to swallow bitterness that only time would wash away. Time. Good company. Trials all anew and exciting!

He was sparse in details, but had a feeling Fafnir knew. That anything he wanted clarified? He’d damn well ask on. The man had ears, eyes, a mind for subterfuge and the means to put his own feelers out. Knew how to keep a secret close—

“N’also add to that the fact that Helio needs some healing too—“ and so Albite spoke, unhurried, unworried. At some tired medium of ease while he leaned forwards towards the desk. Hunched up and taking everything in, both wisp and man caught in his shifting gaze.

“More n I’d come to realize when I took this all on. Heh—call it a passion project, yah? Can’t stand to see a friend suffer their own ********’ follies or some s**t like that….” too nice for his own good, too hopeful, but hardly ashamed of it. Even as he sat there quasi-bemoaning his own so unprepared it was painful, deep dive off the deepest end. The actions of the willfully blind and desperate.

“Not alone. Never that.”

And maybe he could pause long enough to stare at Fafnir the right way, to regard him, a gentle scan, an inventory of every hair in place and the shift of his features. Approving of whatever he saw, even if Fafnir didn’t need his ******** approval. But he was trusting him with this. His mess of words, his rare hesitance and insecurities. Trusting so utterly implicitly, that what he said here would stay here. Between them. That Fafnir wouldn’t kick him too hard halfway down. That he could open his mouth, utter insanities, and be met by that same steel-spined surety the man across him had always exuded in nigh every other insane ******** instance.

“You won’t give up on either of ‘em, though? Will you Fafnir? N’you know how I mean —“ he was sure Fafnir had lines that could be crossed the once, and never again. That even a man like this had to have had limits on how far his lines of love, familial or otherwise, could extend out — before he ended up severing those ties too — Waru understood that. Sought it. Limits and the way to make them. Boundaries and how to respect where they were set — to ******** know when and how to set them!

“I know you do.”

All the things where Trey excelled and he lacked. Where he maybe wanted some guidance on.

“Though—honestly, all of that aside? The second best thing to come outta the middle I put myself into? For me, not them. Was learning how to use Velvet's trinket. Such a total eye opener, that thing, in ways you wouldn’t believe—“ that wasn’t what it was called, or who it currently belonged to, but? Talking of the common, shared people in their lives, like this. Without them present. It made some part of him antsy. Skittering over hard topics gently enough to only touch upon them with his fingertips, trying to be careful and cautious when he was usually anything but that; it was like putting silk slippers on a bull—

It made him yearn to leave himself a way out of the talk he’d started in on, a back door tangent for every conversation, a point to jump off onto. Should every single other point ultimately be too hard to linger on for more than minutes at a time…

And he couldn’t help but think of the gilded, delicate, bracer here. The gauntlet that stole thoughts. That shared them. What a grand, greater good it could be used for! To literally out someone in another person's shoes! What ******** havoc it could wreak upon the world—what sort of deep bonding could unfold—if only everyone could spend a few minutes inside another persons head.

xWhimsical Bluex

“You’re so ********> Ugh, what's the word?” snapped fingers as he pulled something off of someone elses word of the day list, “Pragmatic! That’s what it is—you’re so much of 'that' about alluv this. About everything.” Everything out of Fafnir's mouth sounded like an oath in some ways, at least to him it did. Watching the other man coil up like a snake in his own chair, looking comfortable yet attentive. All seeing. Poised to strike. Waru shamelessly watched him cross his legs; leaning into the moment as he set his elbows on Fafnir's expensive desk, dropped his chin into the V of his connected palms.

"N' I honest to gods appreciate that, stars know I don't have it in me to be -- all -- yanno?" he was rolling his eyes at himself, huffing a frustrated breath of air for his own inabilities. The places he knew he was lacking almost always and all at once. But that was fine, right? To be lacking here. So long as he had backup-- So long as everyone important was informed, bolstered, good! This way he could acknowledge that Treys words were what he needed to hear most. From Trey, specifically. That Trey had his back -- their backs -- and would continue to be a grounding force.

Not something he'd ever doubted! But? When so much of what went on in his life happened around corners, beneath shadows, and within walls that held constantly closed doors. Places he couldn't see. Thoughts he couldn't read. Minds too smart for him to track like some child playing in the dirt around an adults chess game...

Hearing the words made a believer of him. Hearing it said aloud would be more than enough.

"It's what I needed to hear, s'what I'm saying. For that -- far off ******** 'when'. Cause it still rankles me to this day that I pulled the ripcord on you two and then -- well --" a slip of consternation, a wince, because he didn't like creating messes he couldn't clean up. Save the ones he could set Hestia on. This wasn't that, she hadn't been there back then, and even if she had been? All the commercial grade bleach in the world wouldn't undo those kinda spills... "but s'like you say. He's grown as grown gets, and I guess he'll find himself in time."

He wanted that for Helio, as badly as he wanted things for himself. All the ways he was working on that too! On himself, for himself, the parts that bothered him most about ripples that'd caused big waves. Trying to be more conscious of his actions, and that meant being honest with Fafnir, didn't it? Having real conversations instead of just popping in to ask if he could crawl under his skirts, and when, and how long from now? And other banal, enticing, borderline irksome asks, till he felt he'd needled some kind of new rise out of the one man whom he found absolute delight in dragging free of passivity as often as possible!

"And we'll be there when they’re ready for it. For both of them." severity, assurance, the most agreeable tone. In this he felt that he and Fafnir were singing the one same song harmony. It sounded so sweet--eased him enough enough that he pivoted again, recklessly as he always did, one topic into ten other.

"N'until they’re ready for it...We can be here for each other, yeah? I mean, lookit you! You've got these gorgeous new digs n'this is the first time m'seeing 'em! And this wisp that could be something ********' lovely someday---They are useful once they grow, Fafnir. They're forever. Don't hole yourself up in here with it n deny yourself an eternity of possibilities..." And maybe, for a moment, he was talking about more than just the wisp in the room. Had fallen into acceptance of things so easily with the other man---

It was a little dizzying -- a touch of pavlove -- that mental idea of putting himself in a place where Fafnir would get to be in charge again.

"Take the thing out sometimes."

Where he could let him take control---

"Let it breathe."

So he could be a presence in the other Senshi's life; seen, heard, acknowledged. He never felt like he knew enough!! About anything, or anyone, but especially not about Fafnir! He didn't like being denied anything of the man---and if showing his belly every now n then got him more? If giving his throat got Fafnir to tolerate him long enough to give those private, fevered moments of calm within a storm up?

Then ******** it---

"Don't deny it a good time, yeah? N'you can always come ask me questions. About anything at all. Though...can't lie n say I don't like coming to find you. Keeps things interesting on my end."

xWhimsical Bluex

‘Such a ******** tease’ — the thought stuck between his teeth, an amusing bit of gristle to gnaw on; flavorful as it was fatty. The idea that Fafnir would remain a casual enigma, hiding behind high enough to hold rapunzel walls.

No, not hiding…..

He had to acknowledge Fafnir was standing strong and still in broad daylight. Daring people to question his expensively marbled, statuesque composition; to find a flaw, a chip, a crack in it.

To try and call out any imperfections at all.

He knew he’d snap at air and come up empty, every time. With fangs full of nothing. Would bury his teeth in cloth, mirage, poisonous smog and inevitably go hungry if he pushed too much for the thing he desired most. He could almost hear Fafnir laughing now, could maybe even see it in the sly, beautiful smile that graced the man’s features. But what had he expected, honestly? Some grand reveal? Commiseration? Shared feelings? He should’ve known that there was nothing he would drag out of Trey so easily simply by showing up and whining about his own self-imposed trials and tribulations. Fafnir wasn’t prone to taking bait, however thickly glittered, certainly did not pity *him* for stubbing his own toes on sharp rocks and touching cacti as though he didn’t know they were pointy enough to make him bleed—

He’d at least gotten to let the man know Faustite would be busy for awhile. Away. Out of reach to all. That was paramount to the point. N’if his expectations of Fafnirs reaction to any of the same old news had been different? That was entirely on him.

Fafnir was no one’s babysitter—

The guy’d never, to him, seemed the type to coddle.

And yet—

“Then call me—“ there was an itch that followed the pause that ran on too long. An urge undefinable to him, to drag the seconds out, to find the words that felt right. He want making demands is much as dropping hints. He wasn’t begging — yet —“Sir,“ not yet. But he could only be so reverent before he inevitably got it into his head to piss on someone’s couch for the sake of drawing attention. Wanting it for his own, to add to himself in the shapes of other people all the parts he lacked.

To feel whole that way too.

And to manage that with Faustites absence, however temporary? It was going to be a ******** feat of will. And it wasn’t that his other husband in Ren was lesser, or that his other loves couldn’t compare. Everyone was enough in their own ways, equal yet different, stunningly unique. All as irreplaceable in his life for the parts of him they soothed, the holes they filled within him so neatly. But he was also learning that there was no such thing as ‘enough’. Not always. Not for him. Not from just one person. That if he was going to have one? Then he was going to have all. To find himself craving that nebulous more, more, more eventually.

It was too much to ask of any one soul to give. He was too much, and too needy, and too vacuous a void. Knew better than to expect any one person to sate that gnawing thing within him completely. To Tick all the boxes he had labeled ‘needs’, putting all of himself on anyone was just ******** pieces here n there that he knew others could give, that if he tugged enough he would pull loose whatever it was he desired. How he found himself craving that from Trey, especially with Faustite absent and Helio ‘healing’. All the ways Fafnir was this perfect shape, a touch of cold incredulity, a masterful intelligence he couldn’t’ve hoped to see through. Which was just the way he liked it, wanted it, needed it—

Conveying that s**t was all his own ******** issue, taking denial with patience? Learning to love the wait? All entertaining new things to get used to with this one.

“Whenever you want, yeah, sure. I mean that, but maybe also soon? Might be that I’m the dumb mutt who could use the ‘walkies’ that your ‘could someday become a dog’ glowbies aren’t busy taking up.”

Fafnir might as well not have wasted his breath speaking at all, could've crooked his little finger alone, and Waru would've come like a dog on an invisible leash of his own making.

And this time he was begging for it--

Because sometimes? He wanted to fight for it, those wonderful freedoms he already had aplenty of. The kind that had long since been granted. Well known things. Sometimes, though? Sillily, without reason, he wanted to fight for it against imagined opposing forces, nonexistent oppressors.

To feel like there was a fight to have and that he'd maybe won it while needling others for permission--

For what, not even he could truly say.

An easy exit from conversations in his head that would never have the ends he wanted most. To be given word from those he held in higher order that he didn't need to worry, gnaw, and scrabble at the sandy sided walls of like prey in a pit. Because if they weren't worried, overthinking it, circling the drain to find the dregs of whatever messes had long since been dubbed cleaned up enough?

Then maybe he shouldn't be either---

There was no off switch, though, not in his head, not truly. Only a temporary reprieve. A momentary derailment. All sorts of delicious distractions from his thoughts! Those ridiculously endless things he wished ever more to be debrided of, even if the scraping of their rot left him feeling raw in the aftermath. It was better to be rid of them, sometimes, to be clean of them entirely!

For whatever that was worth.

For him? How it was worth oh, so, so, sooo much-- More than he could put words and worth to. More than could be assigned some dollar amount of value. To have this, a bone thrown by his betters, a chance to wind his mind round their twisting words, twining fingers. To be caught up by men and women he'd kowtow to endlessly. <******** yes--" hissed, the sound harsh as it was reverent, the words could've been a prayer, the chair screeching uselessly as he shoved it aside to stand and, with more thought than he usually put to things, make his way around Fafnir's desk-- As entertaining as it could've been to climb over the thing? To disrupt all that paperwork, and the wisps, and whatever else---

He'd had enough of cleaning up his own messe for the moment, and was less than eager to make a game of twenty-one report pickups.

"You know? I've always wondered what you'd be like in a fight--" he wondered briefly how Fafnir wanted him? In the mans lap, on his knees, between those gorgeous thighs hidden by copious blue folds and vibrant dragon-scale imagery. Would he be told to go and do and be somewhere -- something -- He wondered in that same breath between swift strides just how many people had surprised him with their powers? Had disappointed him with the lack where he'd expected more? Surely Helio had, both ways, endlessly. Fafnir had too -- always a surprise, always so many unknowns with this man! How could he not exist in his presence without feeling perpetually on the edge of needing to catch his breath before the next plunge?!

And ******** it, truthfully? Fafnir could've spent the rest of the day writing whatever, for all he cared. If all he got was this, the scraps of this, a gift of a concession on the other mans part. He'd be happy for it. Would kneel for it--

Because kneeling felt right--

To bare his figurative throat to the obvious predator in the room. To get his fix this way too. The few and far between amount of people he could, as a great dane, pretend to be a lap dog for? The absolute void when that number missed the one lap he liked to lounge in the most...

One more thing not worth thinking about right now. Something he could set aside for awhile longer for the sake of having *this*, being present and wholly in the moment of it.