[In the spirit of flustering] The chamber around the famed First Captain and champion of the VIIth, Imperial Fists, is rather comfortably silent. Right up until the point of two arms of sunless paleness bearing transhuman strength embracing him from behind and holding tight like interlaced adamantine locks. Sevatar for the second and equally irratic time, plants the flat his tongue at the very base of Sigismunds neck and drags upwards past his ear to his cheek before releasing him..
| Fluster My Muse! | [Do It LOL]
The Imperial Fists’ own First Captain was about to try struggling out of Sevatar’s hold, wishing to not be in it when the other man licked him. Thoroughly. A shudder ran up his spine and his face suddenly felt a bit hot, more flustered with anger and confusion than embarrassment, and he was swift to his feet when he was released. Grabbing his tabard to wipe the saliva from his neck and face.
“Sevatar!” He practically yelled the other Captain’s name. “What is your affinity for licking me?!”