[ Steady now, Set begins to work apart buttons and folds of cloth. To push hem and seam and panel from Liem's body, his mouth chasing the glide of rich fabric across cool skin, pressing great biting kisses to the upper, inner arm or across the low dip of Liem's belly. He is everywhere, on the move with a single-minded steadiness that lacks all ferocity one might expect from the war god — he's not violent, simply intent to lay the two of them bare. And indeed, the moment he can toss the last of Liem's outerclothes aside and leave him in just his smalls, Set also reaches down to his own body. Slips the dark robes aside and allows their openness to depart him.

It leaves him bare, wavering in it but a moment ( he has a shy heart, in the end; dominance only comes natural to him with his wife, or in competitive settings, and Liem is not Nephthys, nor is this a fight ) before he lowers his head and pushes his lips flush to the compass-shaped Shard embedded in Liem's body. Willing it to take in the feelings he has in this moment: they are simple and true, made of his desire and his affections for the sorrowful man. The hope that he finds peace and enjoyment in it. The fact that Set, seconds after he thinks about doing it, will slip his hand between Liem's thigh and take him in hand.

Stroking him slowly through the material of his undergarments, head bowed to watch the endeavor with a sort of punched out awe in his own eyes. Like he can't believe he's here, touching Liem, being allowed to. Like he perhaps isn't the person who ought to be tugging down the last layer of cloth between his bare hand and the other man's cock, to fit pale, unblemished fingers around the base of him and draw down, twisting his wrist a little to encircle the head. And repeat. ]

Did I not make my appetite obvious enough, that you think I am holding myself back?

[ girls girls, you're both repressed it's ok ]

My heart's content might be hours of this. Days, maybe. Could you survive that?