[There's a different air to this than the last time; it's a subtle change in atmosphere that Rufus isn't oblivious to. But that only makes sense, really, when the last time was about tensions running hot and the fervent burn of desire, and this variation on the theme is meant to be quieter, slower.
It's that thought that guides his decisions of how to move next, of how to exercise the level of control Wriothesley seems to want without injecting an overtly sexual component into it. It's that notion that has him thinking of what he has available around the room, and what he can best make use of with it.
What he decides on, ultimately, is another of those quick hand commands — though he doesn't speak it aloud, this one most likely interprets to stay — and briefly leaves the room in the direction of his bedroom before returning with the soft plush tie from his luxury bathrobe.]
Close your eyes.
[He flicks the squarish end of the cloth against the tip of Wriothesley's nose, letting him feel its sleek caress — and buying a second for him to indicate whether this is out of bounds, if for some reason he doesn't want to be blindfolded.]
no subject
[There's a different air to this than the last time; it's a subtle change in atmosphere that Rufus isn't oblivious to. But that only makes sense, really, when the last time was about tensions running hot and the fervent burn of desire, and this variation on the theme is meant to be quieter, slower.
It's that thought that guides his decisions of how to move next, of how to exercise the level of control Wriothesley seems to want without injecting an overtly sexual component into it. It's that notion that has him thinking of what he has available around the room, and what he can best make use of with it.
What he decides on, ultimately, is another of those quick hand commands — though he doesn't speak it aloud, this one most likely interprets to stay — and briefly leaves the room in the direction of his bedroom before returning with the soft plush tie from his luxury bathrobe.]
Close your eyes.
[He flicks the squarish end of the cloth against the tip of Wriothesley's nose, letting him feel its sleek caress — and buying a second for him to indicate whether this is out of bounds, if for some reason he doesn't want to be blindfolded.]