[The droplet certainly doesn't pass without reaction from the priest, either. It's cold, after all, against skin and gently warmed metal; only natural that Olivine shivers faintly, gooseflesh rising over pale skin. ah... it's only at this moment that he realises just what a mess he's about to be in, given Baptiste's given intention.]
If you think so—oh—
[He really needs to take a moment before speaking sometimes. It would at least have prevented the absolutely wanton sound that escapes him as cold cream tips onto warm skin...
The other doesn't give him much time to think about that either. A sticky layer of white slips over skin, cold enough on its own—but almost negligible when the half-frozen spoon drags over the curves of his flesh and taps against a nipple.]
Wait—that's—
[Fuck, it's so nice. Olivine's face betrays his words as much as his body does, as the nub hardens against its rapidly cooled piercing. A hand reaches to do something, perhaps to stop this before he falls too deeply into his own desire...
... unfortunately for Olivine, he's still holding an ice cold drink, and his thoughts aren't on trivial matters like keeping it upright. So, alongside a smattering of condensation that shakes free to dot milky skin, some of the drink itself follows suit, running down the curves of his torso to circle his gemstone before trailing ever downward. And the sound he makes? Well, as distressed as it may be, it isn't one of protest by any means. Whoops!]
no subject
If you think so—oh—
[He really needs to take a moment before speaking sometimes. It would at least have prevented the absolutely wanton sound that escapes him as cold cream tips onto warm skin...
The other doesn't give him much time to think about that either. A sticky layer of white slips over skin, cold enough on its own—but almost negligible when the half-frozen spoon drags over the curves of his flesh and taps against a nipple.]
Wait—that's—
[Fuck, it's so nice. Olivine's face betrays his words as much as his body does, as the nub hardens against its rapidly cooled piercing. A hand reaches to do something, perhaps to stop this before he falls too deeply into his own desire...
... unfortunately for Olivine, he's still holding an ice cold drink, and his thoughts aren't on trivial matters like keeping it upright. So, alongside a smattering of condensation that shakes free to dot milky skin, some of the drink itself follows suit, running down the curves of his torso to circle his gemstone before trailing ever downward. And the sound he makes? Well, as distressed as it may be, it isn't one of protest by any means. Whoops!]