[Over their encounter, Liem’s impression of the tie between Set and Gen has flexed and warped with confusion: a constantly-shifting notion born of incomplete information. Set has come to retrieve the shard belonging to Gen. Gen has the jars containing the soul of Set’s son. Gen has not just endangered Anubis, but wronged Set, betrayed some bond between the two of them. As ever, Liem can only grasp a part of some vast, greater whole when it comes to the god. But he believes that he begins to understand.
The continued occupation of his hands is an ongoing inconvenience. Liem reaches to one side, stabs that dark, slim dagger into a broad green stalk, so that he can wrap that arm freely around the man leaning over him. In all his restless, obsessive motion, Set feels as though he might shake apart at any moment, explode into violence seemingly at odds with his rapt attention for Liem’s person. Somehow he still craves that attention, despite the way he instinctively flinches at each brush of Set’s hands over his battered and bloodied body.]
Then I will leave his punishment to you — as long as he is made to regret his decision.
[He says this as though he doesn’t know that Gen’s own instability, his own fear and rage, had driven him to such extremes. It doesn’t matter; he cast the first stone. Perhaps Liem is the less forgiving one in this situation, because he had demanded that the boy learn his lesson even when Gen had finally curbed his temper. But then, Liem’s lesson would only have been an exercise in patience. Given how things have escalated, he doubts Set will be so lenient.
He isn’t expecting the praise he receives, for his failed gambit that only ended up hurting the both of them — all three of them, if he’s considering Set’s attachment to Gen as well. He feels undeserving of it, even if only because of his clumsy execution.
But he does not push the god away, does not reject his touch or his approval. He wants them too much. And so he only nuzzles closer, cautious of his tender, abused face, seeking the pulse at the other man’s neck.]
no subject
The continued occupation of his hands is an ongoing inconvenience. Liem reaches to one side, stabs that dark, slim dagger into a broad green stalk, so that he can wrap that arm freely around the man leaning over him. In all his restless, obsessive motion, Set feels as though he might shake apart at any moment, explode into violence seemingly at odds with his rapt attention for Liem’s person. Somehow he still craves that attention, despite the way he instinctively flinches at each brush of Set’s hands over his battered and bloodied body.]
Then I will leave his punishment to you — as long as he is made to regret his decision.
[He says this as though he doesn’t know that Gen’s own instability, his own fear and rage, had driven him to such extremes. It doesn’t matter; he cast the first stone. Perhaps Liem is the less forgiving one in this situation, because he had demanded that the boy learn his lesson even when Gen had finally curbed his temper. But then, Liem’s lesson would only have been an exercise in patience. Given how things have escalated, he doubts Set will be so lenient.
He isn’t expecting the praise he receives, for his failed gambit that only ended up hurting the both of them — all three of them, if he’s considering Set’s attachment to Gen as well. He feels undeserving of it, even if only because of his clumsy execution.
But he does not push the god away, does not reject his touch or his approval. He wants them too much. And so he only nuzzles closer, cautious of his tender, abused face, seeking the pulse at the other man’s neck.]