I believe it, [a murmur, amused, and then:] And naturally, of course— I am rather exceptionally dextrous.
[This great humblebrag about his groping ability he punctuates with a squeeze, on "exceptionally," pleased with himself for how incredibly clever he is. He is good with his hands, at least; there will be no clumsy pawing at anything back here like some kind of fool. The eyes of others may be getting under his skin, but he still intends to do well. At this.
And again, Sampo is... pleasingly shaped. Lorenz only half-listens to his next stream of chatter, glancing up as he bends further over the table and instead studying the curve of his back and the contours of more muscle he can see through that frankly obscene shirt. Hmm. Fascinating.
He slides his hands up from Sampo's thighs to do what he's been dice-commanded to do, palms laid over the curve of his ass, and—
How about he—
How about he what, exactly? What?? He makes a face, brows knitting in abrupt offense, and before he even bothers to snap something about how outrageous such a suggestion is(!!) he lifts a hand and swats it sharply across his ass.
In his defense, he was looking at Sampo's face, and thinking about slapping him in the face, however... ah. Can't unring a bell, so:]
no subject
[This great humblebrag about his groping ability he punctuates with a squeeze, on "exceptionally," pleased with himself for how incredibly clever he is. He is good with his hands, at least; there will be no clumsy pawing at anything back here like some kind of fool. The eyes of others may be getting under his skin, but he still intends to do well. At this.
And again, Sampo is... pleasingly shaped. Lorenz only half-listens to his next stream of chatter, glancing up as he bends further over the table and instead studying the curve of his back and the contours of more muscle he can see through that frankly obscene shirt. Hmm. Fascinating.
He slides his hands up from Sampo's thighs to do what he's been dice-commanded to do, palms laid over the curve of his ass, and—
How about he—
How about he what, exactly? What?? He makes a face, brows knitting in abrupt offense, and before he even bothers to snap something about how outrageous such a suggestion is(!!) he lifts a hand and swats it sharply across his ass.
In his defense, he was looking at Sampo's face, and thinking about slapping him in the face, however... ah. Can't unring a bell, so:]
You are— being difficult.
[That's what we're calling it.]