Church Ch 7 (sin never felt so good)

[warmskies]

Soaking wet from the brief "bath" he was able to take - really more a bucket of water, a cloth, and some soap in a room with a drain - Claude peers down at himself through the little mirror he's made a regular part of his traveling gear.

Like this, fresh from cleaning himself, his hair looks just a little bit of a mess. It's not smooth and swept back, like the church prefers to see. Instead, it forms wild messy curls that shine with the water clinging to it, and he's finally let one long bit hang along the side of his face. Reaching up, he lightly runs his fingers down the short length.

Honestly, he'd normally pin it back and style it into hiding right away; there's no telling when someone might call for him in this place. With how late it is, him having bathed after his own dinner, the worry of that is lesser now. He's rarely had anyone banging on his door this late at night, although it has happened.

But... it's not only for a lack of worry that has him keeping it loose. Claude twirls the long strand around one finger, watching it curl before letting it loose. Like this, it's really easy to manipulate it, which is why he's always styled his hair promptly when getting out of the bath before. For this, however...

He takes the mirror, propping it up along the wall his desk is pressed against, and sits down. Carefully, he begins to wind sections of hair together, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. It takes a little bit of effort before he's finally satisfied. There, in the mirror, he sits with a perfect braid along the side of his face.

Claude chuckles. While he's certainly worn a braid before during journeys where he's been away from church lands, it somehow never fails to make him feel... nostalgic, he supposes is the word. Maybe he'd look better if he shaved a bit. It's not as if he's ever going to grow a beard, which he's sure the priests would all prefer. Despite his Almyran heritage, it's been pretty rough for him. Not thinking too deeply on that, Claude finishes up the braid with a small tie at the end. A bright yellow string... contrasting the white and red and brown he wears for the church.

Will Dimitri like it too, he wonders?

Well, even if Dimitri is apathetic to that, Claude is quite satisfied at what else is guaranteed to make this a good night. A quick check out the window to take in the position of the moon, and Claude reaches underneath his bed. His pack is as full as always, just in case he ever needs to make a run for it for whatever reason... but it's full in an additional way too, and he grins widely as he tugs out a soft but firm heavy parcel.

Dimitri has never complained about the food. He's just never particularly complimented or commented on it before, either. Still, without fail, he's eaten almost every single scrap. Claude is also pretty sure he puts some to the side so that he can eat it for later... Although Dimitri has never told him that for certain. The best Claude has managed has been watching the excited flapping of Dimitri's tail. So for this big haul, full of extra delicious food that he'd gathered both on his journey and here due to a couple of his connections... He's looking forward to the reaction.

Letting the rest of his hair dry on its own without any fussing, Claude slides on his shoes with much softer soles so that he won't make as much noise. And besides the thick parcel of food he tucks under his arm, there's something else to feel good about: how he handled Erik only earlier today. It's impossible to keep himself from grinning with that in mind, even as he carefully slips out of his room and into the empty hallway.

In recent visits, him and Dimitri always seem to find something to talk about. Dimitri has even started to take an interest in the world outside of his cell, outside of the city entirely, even if it's only in terms of where Claude went or what he did.

Yet tonight they'll have a particularly fantastic and engaging subject of conversation: the incident with Erik. Claude isn't sure how much Dimitri picked up on, even if his friend was certainly paying attention to the whole affair. Sure, he was entertained, there was no doubting that, but the full impact probably went over his head.

Claude can't wait to give him all the details; he might even get to hear Dimitri laugh again. It doesn't matter if that makes the ache in his heart (or aches elsewhere) start up again. Thinking about it in the present... The possibility alone puts a bounce in his step that he has to fight against on the way to Dimitri's cell.

There's no difficulty in making his way through the church, thanks to calm nights and his own personally grown familiarity with its layout and the routines of the guards. It's all so perfectly smooth... So of course that means something has to be up. Fortunately, luck is his way, and it has nothing to do with the church or guards. It's Dimitri that makes Claude slow down and pause at the entrance into courtyard.

The moonlight, bright and full tonight, shines down on Dimitri's slumped body where he has his head pressed against the cell bars and his chest and shoulders heaving from heavy breaths. It's the heavy sounds of someone completely exhausted, and Claude forgets all else for a moment as he slows his steps to Dimitri. Did Erik come back again? No, he can't see any wounds... What happened while he was gone? "Hey," he calls softly, stopping before the bars. "Everything okay?"

Blearily, Dimitri raises his head. "Yes. It's-" And he cuts himself off, tail stilling even as his ears flick sharply upwards in clear interest. He says nothing else. All he does is stare at Claude, fascinated.

Apparently he needs a second, and that's fine, because Claude needs a second too. So distracted with his own concern, he forgets for a moment just what could give Dimitri reason to stare... and then it clicks, sparks firing in his brain, and Claude grins. "Does it look that bad?" he teases, suspecting that it's the opposite. It's not as though he can manipulate a denial out of Dimitri, but anything is worth a try at least once-

"No." Dimitri looks away, something Claude can only figure out by the slight tilt of his head - his eyes are still too opaque at this distance for him to make out where Dimitri's pupil is focused. "It.... suits you."

Oh. Oh. Claude's heart flutters at the unexpected surprise of such words, swelling and growing warm as he takes them in. It's only four little words, four simple syllables, and yet it makes him more pleased than anything. Yet clearly if he pushes Dimitri on this matter much more... Well, he'll let his friend have his embarrassment. Grinning broadly, he sits outside of Dimitri's cell. "I brought a real haul for you today," he tells Dimitri, holding out the food parcel. "Here."

Getting the parcel through the bars in the first place is quite an effort; Dimitri raises his eyebrows at him as they force it through. It takes no small amount of trying, too. At least it gets through in the end, and Dimitri has to place it down on the floor instead of his lap for unwrapping.

The moment he begins to pull away the paper, Dimitri's nose twitches. It hardly takes anything before the food tumbles out, released from the tight packaging job Claude had done. He would bet solid money that Dimitri's mouth is watering at the sight of it all.

Most noticeable out of everything, on account of it being the largest, would be a sizeable filet of smoked salmon that was caught fresh only this morning. Finagling that out of the kitchens was no small feat, but Claude is glad that he spent the effort into getting it. It's accompanied by a trio of hardboiled eggs which Dimitri has to hastily catch before they roll right off the parchment. Included amongst all that would be a couple of small roasted peppers, hollowed out so that they could be filled with a soft creamy cheese and specks of olive.

All of that would be stuff he was lucky enough to filch from the kitchens with some excellent timing, hiding spaces, and a little sleight of hand. Well, the salmon was actually more good fortune than his own thieving. That's thanks to one of the kitchen staff being fond of him. The benefits of those who work directly on the food, even when it's for higher ranking members of the church... It's nothing to scoff at.

There's other stuff as well that isn't just from the city - things from when he'd returned from his latest task just the other day. A couple of small bags roll off of the pile, filled with pine nuts and candied almonds. The goat cheese has to be moved off, a small cylindrical shape with herbs embedded in its surface. And finally, the things Claude is most pleased about getting... a little honeycake, a rough circle speckled with nuts.

It's absolutely the best that Claude has ever brought before, and he watches Dimitri go still as he surveys it all. A part of him wants to be impatient, see what has Dimitri's tale wagging the quickest or what he goes after first, and he has to hold himself back. There's no point in rushing his friend, after all. Certainly, not rushing is what's helped Dimitri learn how to unwrap the thin paper wrapping without shredding it with his claws.

When Dimitri finally makes a move for the food, he goes straight for the salmon first. His claw slices through it neatly, the fish yielding easily, and he takes that small chunk into his mouth. It's always normal for Dimitri to take his time tasting the foods that Claude brings him, savoring what taste he doesn't otherwise get in his day to day meals... but this feels different somehow. He chews slowly, gaze still directed elsewhere, before eventually swallowing. "It's good," he says quietly.

That's sure a rare bit of commentary on his food - the most enthusiastic response since the honey and cheese combination, as a matter of fact. Claude wastes no time in filing it away. "Should I take that to mean I should bring you more fish?"

"Is there water near here?"

"There's a lake a day's travel from here. Having water so close is one of the reasons the monastery is here." Claude rests his chin in his hand, leaning forward. "But no oceans. The nearest one is far south - two weeks nonstop travel on horseback, at the very least, and that's being generous to any other obstacles that might come up during a long journey. That's where you'll start to run into Voa like yourself, although obviously they're seen the most on their islands, Devan-Voa." Voa being such island existences is what had inspired Claude to get fish in the first place, even if it's freshwater instead of saltwater.

"Is that so..." Dimitri lets that information sink into him, slicing his claw for another slice of salmon. Claude takes note of that as well; Dimitri usually experiments with his food after one bite of everything Claude brings him. If there was any doubt that Dimitri likes fish, it's completely gone now. There's no denying this favoritism, and Dimitri's response is simply a nail in the coffin for the whole matter. "Then.... Yes. I would like more fish."

Well, then that's that. In the future, he'll have to see what he can do about getting Dimitri more fish. It's going to be a little bit tricky, he can't lie, because fish always tastes best when caught absolutely fresh... But Claude knows he can figure it out. All he needs is a little bit of time inbetween everything else he's doing. So he nods, and settles back in place again as he watches Dimitri eat.

While he'd gone for a repeat bite with the fish, apparently two is all Dimitri will let himself have before he starts picking at the rest of his meal. Claude expects for Dimitri to ask him more about the lake, or what kind of fish it is that he's eating... And nothing comes. It's simply silence, almost a backslide from how comfortable they've managed to become after all of this.

Claude shrugs it off. That's just over excessive worrying, and he knows it. Dimitri's complimented his hair (a fact he's never going to stop being giddy about, as much as he tries to fight those feelings). He'd given one of his rare shows of interest in the food that Claude brought him. If anything, Dimitri is probably hyperfocusing on all the food he's been brought tonight, and how it tastes. Claude leaves him to it, waiting for the moment when Dimitri snaps out of how good the food is.

That moment... doesn't come. As the time begins to stretch into the unusual, Claude rouses himself, and stares at Dimitri a little harder. He'd thought that his friend was simply getting absorbed in the meal, but now that he's looking closely... Isn't Dimitri steadfastly avoiding looking at him at all? It might be more than simply being preoccupied by food...

A bit of regret curls in his stomach. Ah... He has a feeling what this could be about. Claude quirks up an eyebrow. "You're awfully avoidant tonight," he remarks, beginning in a roundabout way that leads up to his suspicions. Across from him, Dimitri freezes. "Did something I say earlier upset you? When I was talking this afternoon?"

After all, he'd said at least a couple of things that could be taken badly. Dimitri is in such a sensitive space, it's not outside the realm of possibility that he'd taken it hard that a positive force in his life could still say things like calling him a demon...

"You know a lot of that was just covering my ass, so... If I said something offensive, I'll apologize, but I was probably just saying it for their benefit in any case."

Dimitri fiddles with one of the almonds he'd been tasting, still not looking up at Claude. "No... That is not it."

"Then what is it?" Claude studies him for a moment.

Dimitri isn't the kind of person who lies easily. He was like that when they were children, too, and the environment he's grown up in hasn't really given him any reason to develop the habit. He's sure if he can just get him comfortable...

He grins. Well, time to either bullshit or aggravate his old friend into action. One or the other works just fine. "Am I just too attractive to look at now that I've gone back to my old hair style? I mean, I can't say I blame you. Even a Voa could probably get impure thoughts from a human who looks this good. Nothing to be embarrassed about when it'd be harder not to-"

He's bullshitting, filling dead air with a runaway mouth, and it's impossible for him to stop even when Dimitri starts to react - first with his ears twitching downwards, then bristling fur, and when Claude brings up impure thoughts... His head snaps up, eye wide, distress and embarrassment rolling off of him in waves. "It is not...!" But Dimitri trails off, claws grasping at empty air as he stares at Claude.

Claude stares back. His quick and brilliant mind is failing him, grasping at words only to have them slip through his fingers. It's pure habit that has him respond. "Not your what?" he asks in a daze, his mind trying to pull itself together again. His mind trying to accept what his powers of observation are telling him - that Dimitri is doing the opposite of denying Claude's silly and ridiculous claims. In fact, he's doing more than just that. Dimitri is confirming them. 

He can't even be incredulous. As Claude stares, he struggles just to accept he's right.

All of his confused staring, the tangled mess of his own mind, must surely be the most obvious thing in the world. And yet Dimitri continues on, embarrassment a whole new cloak draped over him that Claude has never seen before in all of their meetings. "Not my fault that I..." Dimitri can't continue on, words strangled in his throat.

"So... You're saying..." Claude finally gathers the shattered remnants of his mind together, still thunderstruck as he stares at Dimitri. "You actually did have dirty thoughts about me?"

Dimitri's expression goes blank. It occurs to him, faintly, that Dimitri hadn't realized he was teasing. That this is what Dimitri was trying to hide, and not think about, all this time. For a moment, the two of them simply sit there in absolute silence, staring... and then Dimitri gets up, turns around, and makes his way over to the direct opposite side of his cell where he curls up and his tail flicks around his body again.

And that's it. Claude slowly starts to snap out of it. Dimitri may as well prop up a sign saying that he wants to curl up and die from mortification. And yet, as the new knowledge finally begins to settle itself in Claude's brain... He begins to laugh.

Not at Dimitri, of course. He'd never be that cruel like that even with his tendency to tease, especially to such a dear friend. He certainly wouldn't laugh at Dimitri for something he's blatantly self conscious about. That Dimitri can express such emotions after so long of being angry and confused and wary is a precious gift. No, no, he'd never laugh at him for that.

He's laughing at both of them, coping with his own shock and the giddiness that's rapidly growing in his chest. From the very first moment he'd laid his eyes on his old friend again, both of them adults, he'd thought him attractive. It's been a dream all this time that's stirred at his loins, and that he's had to fight away with meditation or other things to distract his mind, although he's yet to vanquish any of his nighttime dreams. After all, there'd been no point in indulging them.

All this time, he's been working just to reforge their friendship. Doing anything at all with his own attraction, even the most basic flirting, has seemed like something for the far off future. Something for when Dimitri was free, and had been free for... who knows. At least months. Probably years.

Even after all that, his thoughts have always been with the consideration that he'd have to be the one putting in all the work when it came to anything sexual. And that wasn't even talking about the romantic side of things. That was an entirely different kettle of fish.

The only thing Claude can do is focus on what's right in front of him, and he finally recovers enough to look over at the still curled up and bristling body out of his reach. Wheezing a little, Claude wipes the tears away from his eyes. "Man, clearly I never should have stopped braiding my hair."

Anyone else would pick up on the indication there that Claude is more than welcoming of Dimitri's interest... But all Dimitri does is bristle harder, which is an impressive feat with how short Voa hair is. Well, that's not a surprise. It's a bit subtle, and Dimitri isn't good at picking up little things like that. Frankly, it may take something drastic to snap him out of the embarrassment that's taken over his body from claw to horn tip.... That's fine.

After all, there's a very easy way to accomplish this, and Claude doesn't mind the opportunity.

"I'm not laughing at you, you know," he says easily, leaning closer to the bars. "I'm mostly laughing because I thought it would be ages before I could admit that I was having the same kind of thoughts about you." The limited light catches Dimitri's golden fur perfectly, the way the embarrassed quivering freezes. "At least, before I could admit it without you freaking out, or getting ticked off..." He smiles, watching as Dimitri's ears twitch. So he's listening. Good. "And here it is... Not even before the year is done. It's a pretty flattering way to realize you've underestimated your own appeal."

A couple of seconds pass before Dimitri finally dares to look over his shoulder back at Claude, who's still sitting so casually as if this were any other night. The frantic beat of his heart says that it's not, of course, but he's quite good at faking it. "The same?" Dimitri echoes back at him, as he's done a couple of other nights in the past - nights where he was worried that he was too unstable, that he was hearing things that weren't true, and needed Claude's presence right there in front of him to confirm what was real or not.

Claude can't blame him. Neither of them, for their own reasons, could have expected the night to turn out this way. He grins at Dimitri, and hopes his nervous heart is as well hidden as he wants it to be. That the tension in his body is something only he knows about, and that Dimitri can't see it himself.

Because the truth is.... This is too close to his heart, no matter if it's sexual or romantic, for him to truly play it off so easily. He can talk and laugh and smile all he wants, but that's the truth: he can't be blasé about this either, no matter how much he may want to be. 

"I mean, I don't know if you've had the chance to look in mirrors or anything," he says, forcing his body to stay relaxed, "but you've grown up to be built like a better class of god. Which, you know, may not be so surprising for someone who's basically a gladiator, but they could model statues off of you. Actually, I've seen less impressive statues."

Slowly, Dimitri's fur smooths back down, and the tension in his tightly curled up form dissipates. He braces his palms against the floor, and pushes himself up - not entirely, using both his hands and his feet. Every single one of his movements is slow, cautious - but intrigued.

Claude's seen it enough times when he's gone out into the woods and other wild places: enormous predators investigating something new and interesting to their eyes. Yet Claude has never seen one like Dimitri... and they've never made heat pool in his gut like his friend does.

Dimitri's tongue darts out along his mouth and teeth; Claude is helpless to do anything but follow it with his eyes. "Describe them," Dimitri says, the low husk of his voice making Claude's heart pound even harder in his chest. He's approaching, inch by inch, fingers spread out with only the tips along the floor.

Swallowing thickly, Claude watches him, enraptured. "What, the statues?" he asks breathlessly. It's for more than just confirmation. Every single bit of Dimitri right now - his movements, the size of him, that brilliant bright eye and the sound of his voice - it's making Claude ache and want more than anything. To be specific, he thinks he'd like to hear Dimitri say exactly what he means, in that deep, husky voice of his.

Such teasing only makes Dimitri narrow his eye, and a low growl rolls out of him that goes straight between Claude's legs. Claude licks his lips, unable to stop staring. Not wanting to stop staring. "You know not that," Dimitri says, that growl still carrying through his voice as he comes ever closer. His gaze is just as transfixed on Claude as the reverse is true. "The thoughts you've had of me... I want to hear them."

Well, that won't be hard to do at all, calling up the kind of thoughts he's had of Dimitri. Claude licks his lips. He's having more of them right now. "A lot of them have to do with how big you are," he murmurs, drawn closer to the bars like Dimitri is. "How you could hold me down, and do just about anything you wanted to me..." He smirks a little. "I've even thought about how you crept up on me that one night, and touched my neck."

Reaching up, he traces his fingers right where he can still so vividly remember Dimitri's. Maybe it's his imagination, but he likes to think Dimitri's gaze follows.

"That should be scary... but something about it is kind of hot, too." His gaze flicks down to Dimitri's hands, dark in the moonlight. "I've thought about what you could do with your claws... and your teeth." When he looks up to meet Dimitri's gaze again, it's with the realization that they're both equally close to the bars now. When Claude grins, it's accompanied by a knowing, sly look. "I could go on."

Dimitri reaches forward, claws grazing along the ground, and the lightest contact of his hand against Claude's leg sends shivers up his spine. "I want to," he says, voice low, rough, heavy with a desire that's more than quickly growing. "I could. You're so easy to pin..." His claws dig in, just enough, one after the other against Claude's leg.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's becoming hard from this, but Claude doesn't care. He even shifts closer to the bars, presses his leg up into Dimitri's claws as that faint pain digs in all the more. "If only the damn bars weren't in the way, right?" he breathes, the two of them so close and yet helplessly far away. He's always, always, had plenty of reasons to want to get Dimitri out of here... But right now, this feels like one of the most pressing. "Although, you know, I'm not that easy to pin..." Reaching through the bars, he runs his fingertips along Dimitri's strong jaw, and grins. "Except maybe by people I want to pin me. That might be another story."

Eyelashes fluttering, Dimitri turns his face into Claude's palm and takes a deep breath. Now that Claude thinks about it, this is the first time he's ever been the one to reach out to touch Dimitri....

A soft mouth runs along his skin, followed by the points of Dimitri's fangs as they drag against flesh. "Other people aren't me," he growls, fangs digging in just a little harder. At the same time, Dimitri shifts his hand, and he presses the claw of his thumb against Claude's thigh, right on the inside.

"That's kind of the point," Claude says, shivering at those teeth, that claw. Dropping his hand from Dimitri's jaw, tempting as those teeth might be, Claude lets it fall until his fingers are trailing down along Dimitri's chest. They run languidly down his sternum to his stomach, then lower, fingers dragging through fur. Underneath his touch, Dimitri's muscles tense and shiver, so strong and powerful that it makes Claude's mouth water thinking about it all, even underneath such a smooth expanse of fur.

Still, he goes slow, watching Dimitri carefully for his reactions. Softly, the claws at his thigh knead into it, like a cat making itself at home... but Dimitri doesn't stop him. He simply watches Claude as well, breath low and hot against his face, all up until Claude's fingers slide over the thick bulge in Dimitri's pants. That's when Claude finally breaks his gaze with Dimitri, hand cupping that heavy erection. Immediately, his mouth goes dry with want.

In his dreams, and the start of his fantasies, he'd always imagined Dimitri to be thick, and large, something that would stretch him out nice and full. Now, with the real thing literally in his grasp... Gods, it's kind of embarrassing and slutty, but unbelievably enticing, taking note that the reality of Dimitri lives up to his fantasies. In this area, at least. His own cock throbs, eager for attention. Well, it can hold on for a little while.

Slowly, he rubs his palm over that firm erection, and draws out a low moan from Dimitri's mouth. His old friend is still only staring at him, panting - of course he has no idea what to do here. Why would he? Claude continues to take the lead, continues to rub between Dimitri's legs. "You know," he murmurs, "I've gotten to know some Voa over the years... but none so well that I have any idea of what you look like down there." His gaze flicks from the bulge he's fondling, up to Dimitri's face. "I haven't even known what exactly to fantasize about..."

"I could say the same about you..." Dragging himself from his own pleasure, Dimitri adjusts the hand he already has in the bars so that it can creep further up Claude's leg. Instead of gripping between Claude's own legs, however, Dimitri's hand finds his waist instead, and tugs him closer until he's all but pressed up against the bars.

Claude grins. "Well, I've never been able to resist satisfying my curiosity..." He takes his hand off of Dimitri, and earns a low growl of dissatisfaction in return. Immediately, he hushes him. "Hey... Don't forget where we are," he murmurs, tugging on Dimitri's pants pointedly. "As much as I'd love hearing all the sounds you want to make... As much as I'd love dragging sounds out of you... We can't be loud. Either of us. Especially if it's the kind of sounds the guards haven't heard you make before."

There's another low growl of discontent, but Dimitri still reaches down for the cloth belt around his own pants. "Do you ever make noise?" he asks accusingly, fingers clumsy and hasty as he soon gives up to tug at his pants as a whole. That's probably going to leave holes in the fabric for belt and pants alike, with Dimitri's claws being what they are.... A problem that can be for the future, if it's ever a problem at all. Claude can't bring himself to care much about it.

Not when the reveal of Dimitri's cock has his breath catch.

A penis is a penis, no matter what animal it belongs to. While the shapes can certainly get odd, penises always go in a certain direction with a certain purpose. Additionally, Voa may have a lot of things humans don't, like fur and long ears and horns, but they're still mostly humanoid. (Self centered a description that may be.) Claude had... figured he could only be so surprised.

And yet it's distinctly non-human in ways he couldn't have predicted. While straightforward enough for his experiences, and massive enough for his preferences... The length is pointed, smooth, and, devoid of fur, its flushed color stands out starkly against the rest of Dimitri. None of that - or maybe all of that combined - really shouldn't turn him on more... and yet somehow it does.

Maybe the church is right about him, although that's a thought Claude thinks without any particular regret. There's no flimsy moral purity that could be worth passing this up, and he snaps out of his own salivating to slyly smile up at Dimitri again.

"Wouldn't you rather find out for yourself if I can make a noise like that?" he asks sweetly, shaking off the inaction of admiration in order to reach out. Running his fingers along the shaft of Dimitri's cock, Claude has to bite down on his lower lip.

Gods, it feels so much hotter than the rest of him... All bare skin, no fur. As Claude teases, Dimitri presses his forehead against the bars, and his free hand reaches up to wrap tight around one of them. Claude can feel that hot breath through his hair, sending loose curls fluttering. He wonders if he can overwhelm Dimitri with pleasure, with this thing he doubts his friend has ever dealt with before...

Well, if he can, Dimitri won't let him have it so easily. Refusing to be distracted by Claude's fingers gliding all around his arousal, Dimitri moves the hand he has at Claude's waist. His claws scrape lightly against the side of Claude's neck, his jaw, until they're sliding into his hair... and he grips his fingers there, light, with a twist.

Claude makes a low sound, one that's only partially pain, and his eyelashes flutter. There's something about it that burns through his system, something about the pain that has its own intoxicating quality - a promise of pleasure contrasted in it all.

Like salt that enhances the sweetness of a dessert.

Claude doesn't let himself get distracted by the sensation; he can't afford to. For all that he's only just arrived and they have a decent amount of time, he doesn't want this to get cut short.... And he can't resist exploiting this opportunity for all its worth. Not after weeks of sexual fantasies nipping at his heels.

So with an idea of just how thick Dimitri truly is, how long, he finally wraps his fingers around him and begins to move. Slowly, at first, but that's more than enough to make Dimitri shudders from toe to ear. There's a small shift of his hips, claws against Claude's scalp... but he doesn't move any faster. He can't afford to. Dimitri's cock is still dry, so going too fast or too rough would likely just hurt him. If he can simply work Dimitri up enough to draw out precome...

At least, he sure hopes that Voa biology is close enough to human biology in that regard. If that's not the case, then, well... He'll have to figure out something. Fast.

Another sharp pull, a small jerk, of Dimitri's claws in his hair when Claude slides down his cock to the base. There, it's a little thicker. Claude bites back the soft noise of pleasure he wants to make. "You like that?" he breathes, trying to focus, keep his hand moving so delicate and slow along Dimitri's length.

He can't get over how hot it feels, in his hand alone. His fingers reach up to the tip. Nothing yet. Down again... If it's this hot just in his hand, how will it feel when this massive thing starts to fill him up, stretch him out. Base again. Is it thicker? Just his imagination, he thinks.

He can't really think at all, actually. His breath quickens as he gets lost in the feel of Dimitri's cock, and he swallows when he finally feels precome gathered at the tip of him. It's leaking out.... more than he would have expected, actually. Well, he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Enveloping the tip of Dimitri's cock, he smears it all along his palm before sliding down again-

Oh, heaven help him.

Dimitri's cock... actually really is thicker near the base, and has been growing all the moreso the entire time. Because... it's not just a thick part of his anatomy. Claude feels his mouth grow dry as much as his own arousal throbs. It's because Dimitri has a knot.

That knowledge alone feels like it's going to kill him, a bigger threat than the claws he can feel sliding from his hair to settle along the back of his neck. Immediately, the thoughts start to drown out everything else in his mind, until Dimitri's knot is all he can think about.

How would it feel, to have Dimitri fuck him with that? What would it even be like? Could it even fit - already swollen like his fingers can feel as they skim across the firm muscle, or swelling up inside of him even more? Claude doesn't know the answer to any of those questions... But his eagerness to find out is almost embarrassing.

Yet not so embarrassing that he stops himself, fingers gliding back up for more precome. It's dripping all the more freely thanks to his ministrations. Claude doesn't speed up - forgets to.

He wants to tell Dimitri what he's thinking so badly... He doesn't care if this means the church was right about him, can't muster up the shame even if this might be the kind of thing one *should* have shame about. They've been wrong before, priorities all screwed up. Claude only has one priority in front of him, and it's Dimitri's thick cock slick in his hand as he slides his fingers down once more. 

It would work Dimitri up like nothing else, he's sure, if he were to tell him how he's thinking about this cock inside of him, about being fucked by his knot, pinned underneath his massive frame.... Claude swallows, and realizes his mouth is still dry. He realizes something else, too - that he can't say a word on this. He can keep pumping his hand up and down Dimitri's length, feed his arousal more that way, but... He can't tell him his thoughts.

That would be cruel. Dimitri's claws press lightly into the soft skin of his neck, and Claude barely notices, lost in his thoughts and the motion of his hand. Dimitri is stuck in this cell, both of them unable to reach each other as they truly want to. One day he's going to get Dimitri out of here, that's a guarantee, but... It would seem like an empty promise now. And empty promises, dreams he can't trust, are exactly what has hurt Dimitri so much in the past. So Claude bites his tongue, almost literally, tries to figure out how to lavish praise onto Dimitri's cock-

There's only the slight bit of movement, Dimitri's hand sliding down from the bars, before a pressure inbetween Claude's legs draws a guttural gasp out of him. It's more surprise than arousal - he'd been so lost in his own head, the rhythmic kneading of Dimitri's claws against his neck. It feels like fire is coursing through his veins now, heat pounding from his cock, and he clumsily reaches up to grab at the bars with his free hand. "Oh fuck," he breathes, and bites back a moan when Dimitri's claws scrape along his skin.

Of course. He's not the only one involved in this. Dimitri's slow spreading grin, all sharp teeth at the ability to make Claude fall apart for him, is a solid reminder of that. Carefully, his old friend begins to grind the heel of his palm up against Claude's arousal, and he has to fight to control his stuttering breath. Dimitri's hand is so big... and, almost more than that, he's taking so much care in the way he adjust his claws so that they don't prick into him down there. It makes his heart ache almost as much as his arousal.

Well, it's just rude if he keeps getting lost in his own head. For this sort of thing... He should really pay Dimitri back. So Claude slowly drags his hand all the way down Dimitri's length, down to that thick knot where his palm smooths over it. He squeezes down directly over it, riding upwards again as though he's trying to milk him completely, and Dimitri jolts violently in his grip. He actually snarls, face contorted in pleasure. Claude makes a low noise of pleasure too... and even he can't tell what it's in response to.

The claws pricking at the back of his neck? The scratch marks that burn so brilliantly? The hand rubbing him through his pants? Or is it that hard thick knot that his palm returns to...

As he does so, a thought hits him almost out of nowhere. How much is Dimitri going to come... exactly?

Is it... a lot?

Claude doesn't have a lot of experience with knotted dicks, as he told Dimitri. On point of fact, he has zero. However, logically, it seems like the purpose of the knot might be to seal in... a lot of semen. How much of a mess are they going to have on their hands here? To be more specific, his hands? And can Claude - who has to walk back to his room, through monastery halls that might not be completely empty - keep his clothes respectably clean?

...Well. He'll deal with it when he deals with it. Just like he'll deal with getting out of his pants before he comes in them like a horny teenager.

"Damn, you're so hot like this," he murmurs, voice breathless and hot in a way he's never used around Dimitri before. He continues to stroke Dimitri, slow again. But what he's lost in speed, he makes up for in being thorough as he strokes all the way up from knot to tip, giving a squeeze every time he reaches the bottom as well. It seems to be working well enough, Dimitri still snarling quietly while his forehead digs against the bars. "You'd wreck me if you could really get your claws on me, wouldn't you? And I'd love it..." Another squeeze down on Dimitri's knot, which in turn makes that large palm grind up into him, and Claude swallows up his moan.

It threatens to tumble out of him when Dimitri's claws on his neck tug him just an inch closer, and Claude looks up into that brilliantly blue eye. "I want you," he says, words coming from the deepest parts of him, from his arousal and deeper still. From Dimitri, straight to Claude's cock, and he makes another breathless, heated sound from within his throat.

At Claude's neck, Dimitri's claws shift to keep him perfectly in place even as Dimitri starts to squirm against his cell bars. "Claude," he rasps, the claws down inbetween his legs threatening to tear through the fabric. "I- I can't-" His words flounder, no proper vocabulary to describe what he's experiencing.

Fortunately for them both, Claude knows exactly what Dimitri means to say. He could pick it up from the throbbing in his palm even if he couldn't. "Show me what you look like when you're coming for me," he breathes, tipping Dimitri's cock back as he firmly slides his hand down back to his knot. He gives a rougher squeeze than he's yet dared to all this time, and then tightly drags his fingers up the length of him, almost trying to pull the orgasm out of Dimitri's body.

With a feverish intensity burning in him, Claude watches as Dimitri grabs at the bars of his cell, the metal whining from the force of his grip. His orgasm rocks through him, come splattering all across his fur, thick where it clings to the point that it drips down Dimitri's legs, over Claude's hand. It's a high first shot... but it doesn't stop, after that. It continues to pour out of Dimitri bit by bit, gravity and lower pressure working together to have it trickle all over him.

Claude will say this - that makes it far easier for him to work Dimitri's cock, so simple as to be automatic. That's good... because he can't tear his eyes away, far more turned out by the pump of come that's pouring out of Dimitri as his friend clings desperately to the bars.

He wants it so badly - all of it, pouring into him, leaving him a sloppy mess beneath Dimitri. Claude's gaze flicks up, towards Dimitri's face, and he takes in his friend. It must be a strange and foreign sensation, this kind of pleasure. Enough to make his face contort and his voice become lost from the intensity of it all.

Yet now, as the pleasure rides out so much more slowly even with Claude's hand pumping at his cock, his expression relaxes a great deal, and he slowly begins to grind into Claude's hand. A hand that's practically coated in come, now.

"I didn't know there would be so much," he murmurs, still watching Dimitri's face. The pure concentrated amount of dazed bliss coating his eye has him suspect Dimitri doesn't even understand what he's saying right now. That's fine. Claude doesn't mind it, just like he doesn't mind the sore wrist he's undoubtedly going to wake up to tomorrow. "I guess you wouldn't know if all Voa come like this... So I'll just take this as confirmation that I'm really that good."

Still nothing. Just that simple dazed contentment, the kind Claude isn't sure Dimitri has ever gotten outside of sleep. Eventually Dimitri finally recovers fully, and he blinks awake. Throughout all of his, his hand had fallen from inbetween Claude's legs to lightly grip (and then just lay against) his thigh. Now that he's ridden through his own orgasm, Dimitri is a lot more attentive. "You..." He reaches up, lightly tugging at Claude's own pants.

Claude shivers in response, still obviously hard. "Looking to return the favor?" he asks lightly, pulling his own hand off of Dimitri only when he stops feeling any pulses of arousal entirely. "I'm not going to complain... Although you'll have to do all the work."

His hand is absolutely covered in semen, after all... and it would be a little counterproductive if he tried to undo his pants in that state. Casually, he flicks some of the excess come off of his hand. There's so much of it that it splatters against the dusty ground with a distinct splat.

The good news is that all his effort into bringing Dimitri paper wrapped meals has paid off. Certainly, Dimitri isn't gentle as he removes his claws from Claude's neck in order to focus on removing his belt, his pants - but he's still accurate enough to get it all off without puncturing or tearing through Claude's clothes. Soon, his pants are crumpling down around his knees, and his cock is finally exposed to the cool night air.

Amidst his shivering from the sudden sensation, no longer burdened by his pants, Claude can't help but... feel self conscious, and he laughs. "It's... not as impressive as yours, I know," he says, playing it off. Dimitri is enormous, of course - a lot of the difference is simply that of proportions. Still... After seeing Dimitri like that, his own climax feels as though it's going to be an anticlimax-

"Does it matter?" Claude blinks, and he stares up into that brilliant blue eye. After a moment, he doesn't even get a choice. He has to stare upwards, thanks to Dimitri's fingers wrapping around the back of his neck, keeping him trapped so that he can't turn his head to look at anything else.

And yet it's not meant to keep him in place, not wholly. Dimitri lifts Claude up, draws him from his kneeling position, until it's not too much of a stretch for Dimitri to lean down and meet him.

The bars of Dimitri's cell are too close together for the voa to get his head through, that's outright impossible... But they're not so close together that Dimitri  can't press his muzzle through instead. "I want you," Dimitri says, voice still low and husky, before he drags the flat of his tongue all the way up the exposed curve of Claude's throat. "All of you."

Oh. Claude feels breath leave him in one fell swoop, and he shudders against the rough, hot swipe of Dimitri's tongue against his skin. Dimitri's touch against his cock is a surprise without him able to look down and see, and it's even more of a surprise to feel the soft pads of his fingers as they wrap around him. Without shame, without hesitation, Claude rocks his hips into that soft grip and feels himself falling apart in Dimitri's grip.

The grip around his neck. The grip around his cock. And even a grip around his heart, throbbing with so much painful want that he doesn't know what to think or feel at all.

At least his body knows what it wants, so close to release that it hurts. He ruts his hips up into Dimitri's grip, seeking any sort of friction that he can get. It doesn't take much, after that - simply the slightest movement of Dimitri's hand, a swift jerk, and he hits his climax immediately. Burying his face against one arm, gripping a bar with his one dry hand, Claude moans Dimitri's name. It must be incoherent, mouth full of cloth as it is, but Claude doesn't care. He's been swept away, in emotion and orgasmic bliss both.

"Fuck," he murmurs, pulling his face away from his arm and full of breathless amusement. Turning his head, he smiles blearily up at Dimitri. When was he allowed back onto earth, Dimitri's hand away from his neck? It happened so gently while he recovered from his orgasm... He didn't notice at all. "That was... incredible." He suddenly laughs, a little quiet and a little hoarse. "And probably insane to do, under the circumstances."

If he'd gotten caught at this... Claude has no idea what would become of him. He'd like to say not an execution, with the way Dimitri favors him, but he knows that the church has ways around whatever Dimitri himself might want. It's why that brand is burned into his old friend's wrist, after all. And yet...

His smile stays strong as he looks up at Dimitri. "Although as long as we can avoid getting caught, I'd still do it as many times as we could get away with, even if I have no idea what the church would say if they caught me doing this."

Having been lost in his own thoughts as he'd stared down at Claude, Dimitri snaps out of it was a dismissive shake of his head. "Sin and blasphemy, most likely," he says dully, repeating the words in smoother Fodlish than one might expect. Then again, with where he's been stuck at for decades now, Claude supposes it's hardly a surprise that Dimitri knows words like that.

He inspects his hand curiously, in a much better state than Claude's own is when it comes to the amount of semen that's prevalent there. He shakes it lightly, and, when that doesn't get much of it off his hand at all, he raises it to his mouth for a curious little lick.

Claude can't help grinning at that, all the moreso when Dimitri glances up at him awkwardly from beneath his bangs and with a small twitch of his chin, his fingers still near his tongue. Unintentional eroticism is incredibly charming coming from Dimitri...

...But Claude's a fan of intentional, carefully executed flirtation when it comes to things he does. So, holding Dimitri's gaze, Claude raises his own dirtied hand to his mouth and, rather deliberately, sucks one fingertip clean while he's certain his friend is watching. It's almost possible to literally see Dimitri's brain fall apart into pieces behind his stare.

Still, there's no way he's cleaning his entire hand this way. There's so much of it that it would become more gross than erotic... Also, Claude isn't sure if a person can get sick or not if they try and swallow this much semen all at once, especially as it cools.

Tucking himself back into his pants with his free hand, Claude pushes himself up. "I'm gonna go clean up with some water," he tells Dimitri, pointing back to the pump he knows is in the corner of the courtyard, far away from Dimitri's cell. Fortunately for the two of them, there's a bucket that's always supposed to be left there, so... "Should I bring you some to wash yourself up with?"

Being spoken to snaps Dimitri out of the daze that Claude's earlier antics left him in, and he blinks a few times. "Oh... That is an option," he murmurs, having clearly remembered the pump's purpose can be used for him as well, so long as Claude is there to help him. It rarely comes up, to be fair, and Dimitri does have to deal with things on his own when Claude isn't around. "Then... Yes." Besides his hand, Dimitri has to clean the rest of his stomach off as well.

It takes a few minutes for Claude to get the bucket of water. While the pump isn't particularly far away, it does take a little bit of work to get the water flowing, and Claude doesn't want to get too little for a guy as big as Dimitri is. The short amount of time he's away is more than enough time for Dimitri to shuck out of his pants completely. When Claude leaves the bucket down right in easy reach of the bars, Dimitri murmurs a quiet thanks before quickly getting to work.

As he settles back down in place again, Claude smiles with a warm gaze focused right on Dimitri. "Not really how I expected my visit to go tonight," he says softly, "although I'm not complaining, mind you."

Pausing from where he's just finished cleaning his hand, fingers near the mess along his stomach, Dimitri glances back at the food he had abandoned and then back at Claude. "...It was not something I intended to do either," he agrees, quickly and efficiently swiping himself down. Soon, he's washed his hand again, and he's back before his meal. No doubt he's a little bit tired after something like that - at least, Claude certainly is, and he can't imagine the voa sex process being any different - but Dimitri still sits down before his food regardless.

After such an exciting and unexpected event... Claude is fine with the silence that falls over the two of them. It's not an uncomfortable one, far from it. Rather... it's the warm and relaxing weight of a blanket, with Claude content to sit alongside Dimitri as his friend works through one of the eggs. If the night ended like this... Claude doesn't think he would mind.

Dimitri has other ideas, apparently. Claude can tell as his friend keeps shifting his head ever so slightly to look up at him again and again. Soon, his feelings come to fruition, and Dimitri tucks the remains of his egg into his cheek before getting to work.

He tugs the small honeycake by its bit of paper, that which had kept it safe from the fish, and presses one claw into it. It's not a perfect knife, but it does the job well enough. When he's done, Dimitri puts one roughly carved half of the cake on the wax paper that's holding the rest of his dinner. That leaves the other half on its own little scrap.

And that, Dimitri gently, shyly, nudges closer to Claude.

Claude could protest that he doesn't need any treats. He doesn't. He could say that he's more than free to get treats for himself if he wanted. He doesn't.

Instead, he thinks of a child behind the tiny barred window of a door, lighting up as he saw him approach. He thinks of clawed hands clumsily trying to pass honey candy back into his own so that they could share properly. He thinks about that, and he smiles, more honest than he's ever smiled for a very long time as the warmth spills out of him.

When he accepts Dimitri's generosity, accepts the cake, it tastes better than anything else he's had in a really long time.

"I'm glad you decided to go with it," he says quietly, and Dimitri glances away, a turn of his whole head, but that's alright. Claude is more than fine with the two of them falling into a comfortable silence, something where they can both recover from the storm of emotions that's swept them away unexpectedly. Besides, he has his own thoughts to go over.

More then ever, he's convinced of two things.

The first is that his plan to free Dimitri is absolutely necessary. That was never truly in doubt, not from the first day that Claude saw him covered in another person's blood in the execution arena. It's knowledge that's only grown impossibly strong the more he's come to visit Dimitri over the months. When he's seen Dimitri fall apart, when he's seen how he's treated... The need to set him free has pounded in Claude's chest like a war drum.

And now, more than ever, that need pounds because of the second thing, and it's that he knows the larger and overall plan will work.

He's not only thinking about the plan to get Dimitri out of his cell, out of the church's control. He's thinking about the plan to give Dimitri the good life he wants him to have, the good life he deserves. And that.... It's going to work.

Dimitri doesn't have to stay trapped somewhere far away by himself, recovering from the lifetime of pain and suffering that the church has forced onto him. Claude had been prepared for that, as a worst case scenario... but he doesn't need to, he thinks.

Dimitri - the real Dimitri, the Dimitri beyond the role of Executioner that the church forced onto him - still exists. He can still be happy, and shy, and caring. He was never destroyed. Just... buried. Those defensive layers can be removed, and he can bloom from the decay that he's been forced to exist in. All Claude has to do... is get him out of here.

Still, there are a lot of things that can't be said while Dimitri is still at the church's mercy. And, well, as much as Claude would like to, there's no time for them to have an indepth talk on their emotions, or the ramifications of what they've done with each other tonight. So, for now.... He opts to change the subject. And how fortunate for them, that they just so happen to have the perfect one available.

"By the way," he says, already grinning at how enjoyable this talk is going to be. "How much did you understand of that whole conversation with Erik earlier? That controller? I know it wasn't in Voali, so I thought you might have missed some of the nuances, and I'd hate for you to be unable to enjoy the full extent of it." When Dimitri looks up, the end of his tail flicking, Claude grins all the wider. 

"You humiliated him," Dimitri says, tongue flicking out for a stray bit of egg that hand clung to his mouth.

His eye narrows slowly in clear pleasure even remembering that much, and he picks up one of the stuffed peppers. Taking a bite of it, he pauses in both enjoyment of the memory and enjoyment of the cheesy glory that the pepper is filled with. Claude puts that down on the list of things he wants to get Dimitri again one day; it's becoming quite a long one.

Once he's done enjoying the cheese, his tail stilling from happy little flicks, he looks up at Claude again. "I know deer were involved, and I am not sure why."

Claude winks - smug, confident, and relaxed. "Well, I don't mind offering a translated retelling..." And with that, he launches right into the tale, in a language that Dimitri knows well. He spares no effort in it, able to recall things word for word, and accompanying all of it with sweeping gestures or mocking exaggerated tones.

He talks about how he had trapped Erik with humiliating lies that the other man had to pretend were true because Claude framed the actual truth as far more mortifying. He talks about how he had encouraged Dorothy to be respectful even to things that can't speak, and all the moreso to things that can. How Claude called Erik all but incompetent, right to his face, and stupid too, and got away with it by couching it in careful words and diplomacy and potentially innocent misunderstandings.

Whether through the story or Claude's retelling or Dimitri's own personal investment in it all, the voa seems quite comfortably enraptured. As Claude speaks, he begins to sink down against the ground into a comfortable lounge, and almost seems to forget to eat occasionally despite how good the food must smell to him. He bites back laughter, and bares his teeth in delight, and he looks truly beautiful, even with his condition and everything he's surrounded with.

By the time Claude finishes, Dimitri seems as though he might ooze right through the ground in satisfaction. "He deserves that and a bit more," he says, cleaning his fingers off again, but this time of egg instead of semen. "I've never liked him. He'd be missing an arm if not for how I am restrained."

Claude chuckles; he's not particularly surprised to hear that desire coming from Dimitri. With all his connections and how much talking he's done with various people in both the church and the broader area of the city itself, he's heard more than enough about about how certain guards and controllers have earned Dimitri's ire. He doesn't have a lot of pity for them. But still... 

"Just don't get yourself in too much trouble, alright? The last thing I want is to show up here some night and they've moved you to a more secure cell, or they decide you're too much trouble and get a new executioner." Claude's eyes darken for a moment. Those aren't things that have happened particularly often, as far as he's read about... but there are records that they did, at one point or another. "If we can't improve your situation in any other way... then at least I want to be able to keep having this."

Mostly, he's saying this to encourage Dimitri to keep behaving himself, for just a little while longer. Claude thinks he can get his plan to get Dimitri free finalized soon - maybe a month or two at the latest as he gathers information ahead of time and allows people to fall into place exactly where he needs them.

There are a few things he needs to get on hand as well: preparing a space where he and Dimitri can duck to instead of being constantly on the run, even if only for a little while, along with all the money he's saved up for so long... Various things of that nature.

But with his nose to the grindstone... He plans to get all of this finished as quickly as possible. And gods know that he wasn't lacking in motivation before.

There's no response from Dimitri, not right away. He simply stares off into the rest of the courtyard, gaze distant. Normally, he's always such an open book. Sure, the book is full of anger and confusion and pain, but it is an open one all the same.

Right now, however... Claude can't tell what's going through his mind. He lets him have this moment to himself. To pass the time, Claude pushes himself up to his feet, and grabs the bucket of now dirtied water. He needs to empty it, and clean it out thoroughly, too, so that there's not a trace of what he's done.

Yet he won't leave Dimitri alone on only that note... and he's glad when he makes the choice to walk back to Dimitri's cell. As he does so, Dimitri wearily pushes himself up. "They've kept me alive this far," he says quietly, his claws curling against the ground. "And I cannot promise anything. But..." His tail sweeps across the ground in a wide arc, restless. "...I shall be here."

When he says things like that... Claude crouches down before the bars. "Come here a sec, Dimitri."

Dimitri blinks at him. "I thought you were going to take your leave," he murmurs, although he still obliges as he moves around what's left of the food until he's right before Claude.

"I am," Claude agrees simply enough. "But there's something I want to do first." Maybe something he's wanted to do for a while, now, and that's only grown all the stronger as the two of them have gone through this whole mess of a nightmare together. So he reaches through the bars, standing as high as he can on one knee, and hooks one hand around the back of Dimitri's neck. It doesn't take much, with Dimitri giving him free rein, for him to pull his friend closer until his muzzle is pressed inbetween the bars again... and Claude can kiss him.

It's not a particularly easy thing to do; he can only kiss Dimitri so well with situational limitations being what they are. So it can't be long, and it can't be deep... but it's still a kiss. Claude pulls away, heart fluttering again even as he takes in the look on Dimitri's face. Despite the fact that they had both gone much farther than a kiss only a little while ago, he still can't help but wait anxiously for Dimitri's reaction.

At least it's not negative. Claude can say that much as he takes in that wide eyed expression on Dimitri's face, the way his mouth has dropped open just a little bit. Even as he wildly beats off the most negative thoughts, Claude feels his heart clench.... until Dimitri reaches up, and lays his large hand over Claude's.

There's so much that's uncertain - their future as a whole, their future together. Claude still manages to smile, because at least, in this moment, Dimitri wants him. That's the most he can ask for.

Still, he can only stay for so long, and Claude begins to rise to his feet. "I'll visit again tomorrow night," he tells Dimitri, while he still has his friend's attention all on him and nothing else. "But that'll be the last night that I'll be able to come in a while. With autumn coming, they're really putting me to work, and so I'm going to be taking trips out of the monastery. I might be able to stop by now and then... But unfortunately not for long."

Dimitri snaps out of it then, brow furrowing and gaze going distant the same way that he had when Claude had told him to take care and not get into trouble. Gently, his hand squeezes down around Claude's. "...But you will come."

"I will come," Claude promises softly. "And when all of my business is finished with... I promise to bring you a better treat than anything else you've ever had when I come back."

That's all Dimitri needs, apparently. His hand squeezes down a little more once again, and then, gently, with care for where his claws are positioned, slides his hand away. Such a soft touch, both of them reaching out together, and that look on his face - it makes Claude want to stay, but he can't. He forces himself to turn back to the hallway, and take his leave properly.

After all, he has a lot of emotions and thoughts to sort through.... And he has pants that need a little bit of mending.

Fixing his pants is a simple matter, honestly. Claude may never make it in his life as an expert tailor tending to royalty, but he knows enough, like most people that work under the church and only have themselves to rely on. Certainly he knows enough to take care of a few simple pinpricks in his pants so that they don't widen into bigger holes later on down the line. In a way, it's almost soothing to fall into the simple rhythm of stitching.

That's good. Claude doesn't have to think too hard on what his hands are doing. Instead, he thinks back to everything else - the way that Dimitri had slowly approached him like he was something delicious to be devoured, those enormous hands settling so soundly along his neck, and -

Does it matter?

He presses down a little too hard, pricks himself. Almost doesn't notice.

I want you. All of you.

Another prick. His heart is speeding up again, frantic and anxious and longing. Shaking just a little bit now that he can go over those words away from anything and anyone else, Claude puts the needle to the side.

His heart can't stop throbbing, and the sensations from only a little while ago keep flooding his mind: Dimitri's hand holding him close, the heat of his breath against his bared throat, and those words - words that Dimitri had bothered to say, words meant to actually reassure him, emphasizing that he wanted Claude and not one part of his anatomy-

Claude presses a hand over his heart, and doesn't stop thinking of those words all throughout the night. Words that he's wanted to hear for a long time.