[There's a strange sort of lull that comes over the room, in the moments that follow — it's not just Wriothesley that's been coaxed into the rhythm of this, into the warm drowsy cadence of forgetting about everything else. There's something to the submissiveness and silence that's starting to ensnare Rufus, too, in the tempting allure of a softer sort of dominance, absent the adrenaline rush and jagged edges.
Before he quite realizes it, he's sunk down onto one knee, letting him draw closer to where Wriothesley remains still and crouched on the carpet; it lets him lower his voice, feeding into that remark — yes, it's quieter like this, soft and easy and quiet, and there's something so powerfully compelling about that.]
A good dog can heel without a leash.
[He runs the pad of his thumb over Wriothesley's lower lip, as if to add a tactile element to the moment to help keep him grounded against the risk of drifting off on his thoughts.]
So let's go for a walk.
[It's a healthy-sized apartment, after all, with multiple rooms. Plenty of space to work in a little following.]
no subject
Before he quite realizes it, he's sunk down onto one knee, letting him draw closer to where Wriothesley remains still and crouched on the carpet; it lets him lower his voice, feeding into that remark — yes, it's quieter like this, soft and easy and quiet, and there's something so powerfully compelling about that.]
A good dog can heel without a leash.
[He runs the pad of his thumb over Wriothesley's lower lip, as if to add a tactile element to the moment to help keep him grounded against the risk of drifting off on his thoughts.]
So let's go for a walk.
[It's a healthy-sized apartment, after all, with multiple rooms. Plenty of space to work in a little following.]