[Set’s gratitude rings strangely in Liem’s ears as the god moves, shifts over him. What has he done to deserve it? Exercised restraint in the wake of his own hurtful decisions? Relinquished the right of vengeance into Set’s bloodied hands? Perhaps these are not small things to the god, but Liem could hardly say he’s given him a boon. The soul of his son is still at risk; he continues to pay the cost for what Liem and Gen began, even if Liem has ceased to resist him.
But still he seeks the assurance of that deliberate, un-gentle contact, and still he takes advantage of the bare stretch of Set’s throat to press his lips and then his teeth against the pulse beating there. To bite and taste him as he has on all those other, less fraught occasions before. (The pleasure of it still shivers through him, relentless. No matter the circumstances, he cannot deny the heady, full-body ecstasy that blooms in him when he drinks — especially from Set.)
That moment seems to stretch on, syrup-slow, until he finally drags his tongue over the god’s throat, and relaxes his one-armed embrace.]
Go. Find him.
[He tells him to go, as he has almost every time before. To find Gen. To find his son.
no subject
But still he seeks the assurance of that deliberate, un-gentle contact, and still he takes advantage of the bare stretch of Set’s throat to press his lips and then his teeth against the pulse beating there. To bite and taste him as he has on all those other, less fraught occasions before. (The pleasure of it still shivers through him, relentless. No matter the circumstances, he cannot deny the heady, full-body ecstasy that blooms in him when he drinks — especially from Set.)
That moment seems to stretch on, syrup-slow, until he finally drags his tongue over the god’s throat, and relaxes his one-armed embrace.]
Go. Find him.
[He tells him to go, as he has almost every time before. To find Gen. To find his son.
Liem will just… be here, in the hosta. Resting.]