fabian aramais seacaster (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maximumlegend) wrote2024-04-26 08:23 pm
maximumlegend) wrote2024-04-26 08:23 pmetraya ic inbox.
▶︎၊၊|||||၊၊၊|။||||။၊|။ 0:20
You have reached a MAXIMUM LEGEND!
maximumlegend) wrote2024-04-26 08:23 pm
You have reached a MAXIMUM LEGEND!
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His other hand comes down on the space of Fabian's neck and shoulder to force his body back down, and Fabian will feel a wet sensation--if he even has the attention to comprehend that against everything else right now. ]
Beg, [ Gorgug hisses, a lower tone than his usual voice is; breathing heavily above Fabian simply from the exertion of being in this rage, though each one is drawn out, each intake and exhale heard. Felt, as Gorgug cranes his head to peer down even better within Fabian's line of sight. ] Tell me you want it. Aren't you going to fight for it?
[ But that's already been answered, apparently, so Gorgug repeats, ] Then beg me.
[ And Fabian Seacaster would never beg. ]
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A little bit more intense than anticipated. So intense that it is - indeed - very difficult for Fabian to focus on any one sensation in particular in this moment. It feels like there's so many going on, somewhere between Gorgug pushing him down so hard, the other's breath so loud right above him, those words, the strange wetness.. Not to mention that the loss of the eyepatch does disorient him a little. Nothing to do with his vision, obviously since there's nothing there, but it's still a familiar sensation suddenly being gone.
And yet he doesn't feel scared. Maybe he should. He's got all reason to, given that his friend who is physically stronger than him is clearly going much further than he ever has before and is showing no signs of stopping.
But Fabian doesn't feel scared.
Which would be easy to chalk up to his bravery, and maybe that's part of it, but there's also-- more. Something that makes adrenaline rush up in his veins. He's being held down, and he's being told to beg, and there's-- there's something there. Fabian doesn't want to think about it too hard, since something inside of him feels like it's trying to push him away from doing so, but it's like he's getting breathless as well as he stares up at Gorgug's dark eyes, as he feels the strength of that hand against his torso. A part of him doesn't want this moment to end, even if that means Gorgug may just pulverize him.
His attitude from a moment ago fades away. The corners of Fabian's lips curl up into a grin before he's even realized it.
Gorgug is right about one thing - as Fabian's free arms move, hands grabbing onto the arm that's pushing him down, tugging on it to try and move it - and that is that Fabian Seacaster indeed does not beg.
So with that grin on his face, he just says-- ]
Fuck you.
[ -- and he spits right in the other's face. ]
Make me.
[ Is he enjoying this?
(Why is he enjoying this?) ]
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His current desire is to make Fabian squirm, to bend. Begging would be nice, asking for it is an insult to his friend: Gorgug knows this. And he delights in it, a certain strength it offers him--domination, one might call it.
But who can dominate, when that grin springs across Fabian's face? Wild, enthusiastic against Gorgug's wishes. An expression he's more than familiar with from the other, when he's in the height of passion, of frenzy. There was already something else twisting up in his insides; not quite rage, and somehow managing to find its own tune inside the musical madness going on inside. Fuck you--it almost makes Gorgug's lips twitch into a smile.
Getting spat on kinda ruins that, though.
At least the smile. A rush comes over him at that, and it's a different kind of violence that Gorgug wants to inflict on his friend, for better or worse. He chucks aside the eyepatch (just to be sure Fabian can't reach it) and pulls aside on the strap of Fabian's tank top, just enough to let him lower his mouth and sink his teeth in the space between shoulder and neck. A wide bite, where his tusks dig in first before the rest, and then threaten to pierce through skin as he manages to lodge in his teeth against skin.
Threaten to, threaten--and then do.
For once (and despite how it might feel), he's showing restraint in the action. Slow, deliberate, pained--because Fabian asked him to make him, and he's doing just that.
(And while he feels that twist in his stomach again, his mouth coming to rest over that space, almost sucking on skin.
He grips tighter where his hand holds Fabian down.) ]
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But he also did not imagine this in the slightest. He thought the other might try to punch him or something, and Fabian was half-ready to try and find some way to get the other's grip off him enough to attempt to dodge it, but it's not a hand that comes down to him at all.
It's.. a face. It's teeth. The half-elf can feel them scraping against his skin before they actually sink in, and though it likely only lasts a second or so, it feels like much longer in his head. Like something about his time freezes, like it's an eternity where he can feel Gorgug's tusks scrape against his skin, and then he bites down.
Fabian lets out a whimper. Sure, he is tough, but Fabian is not tough in the way where he can halve damage. He's tough in a way where he keeps taking shit full on and remains standing - which means he can feel every single part of the bite. Fabian has never imagined what it's like to be bit there - having been bitten in his limbs plenty of times over the many battles they have been part of, but obviously never just straight up into his chest, into his shoulder. It feels like a more sensitive part, somehow, judging by the way the pain feels like it's pouring through his veins in a way that's much more heightened than ever before.
But it's not just pain. It's also weirdly warm. He can feel Gorgug's breath against his skin, a kind of wetness there that isn't just Fabian's own blood. Something about it makes Fabian's heart speed up even more. It doesn't matter that it hurts. The way Fabian's breath grows more shallow may have something to do with that, but it's not just that. There's something about Gorgug hovering over him, one of the few people Fabian knows that's actually bigger than him, pushing him down, sinking his teeth into Fabian's flesh, doing what he wants with him--
He should fight back, maybe.
He should use the safe word they established, maybe.
But Fabian does neither of those things. He doesn't even move. It hurts, and it makes occasional little sounds escape Fabian's mouth, but it's like part of him doesn't want to do something that might make this moment end. ]
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Somewhere, as Gorgug sucks on the spread of skin against his mouth, a sweet metallic taste slipping in as the pressure locks his jaw tighter. The hands on his forearm pinning Fabian's chest doesn't get it to move, but that need, that want, does. Except he doesn't know what he's doing, twisting up Fabian's shirt into his fingers with his fingers dully scraping, barely managing to do much there, before he decides to find an answer by lowering it further down his body. He brushes against Fabian's side, his waist, and in case Fabian attempts to push up his chest again without the force telling him to stay down, Gorgug does bite in harder--does grunt in place of a growl he can't fully give.
Gorgug lands somewhere at Fabian's waist, and decided to take a hold there; fingernails blunted, but still gripping down into the skin, to find purchase--to find a reaction, to hear Fabain make more sounds.
To hear him speak. ]
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But it's not quite as much as he usually would. Usually he'd try to leap up, try to use this chance to get away from what's trying to harm him. The thing is that he would be moving faster - and that's exactly what he's not doing here. Sure, he does try to get up a little, but it's only a faint movement before Gorgug bites down harder, and Fabian's back immediately lands back against the ground with a loud pant from the way those teeth are still digging into his skin, the pressure of Gorgug's mouth on him.
.. and the wandering hand.
It keeps going down.
There was a lesson, back in the Nightmare Forest, about how sometimes you can't just storm in to save your friends. Sometimes you just have to lie down and undergo something difficult for them instead. But this is-- different. It's not for anyone. Maybe Fabian could twist it in his mind and say it's for Gorgug, because the other wanted to be able to practice with his rage like this, but he knows it isn't that. The reason he's lying here and taking it is because..
(Because he wants to know where that hand is going.) ]
Gorgug..
[ It's not begging. The tone isn't begging, anyway, but Fabian doesn't want to think about what the tone is instead. The way his voice gets so breathy as he calls out the other's name.
It's nothing. It's nothing. He doesn't want to think about it. ]
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Now, Gorgug doesn't really care about the eyepatch. He had stopped caring about the eyepatch right around when Fabian spat in his face, and while he still cares about the begging part, the problem is the kind that he wants--the sort it's turning into. The kind of reaction, close to that sound, and the fact that it came after where he put his hand.
Where it could go.
Gorgug thinks about where it could go. He also worries that he might actually be hurting Fabian, in a bad way, and that sound that he's taking so...well, isn't the kind he should be. Was Fabian hurt? Or was that sound something else?
The kind of something else already inside him, replacing the rage that's rapidly dropping from his focus. It's been in there, lurking since he sunk his teeth in, or since Fabian asked him to make him in the first place. He wants to continue to keep going (what if he's telling me to keep going? tell me to keep going--), but the haze of the moment, of where his body is taking this, or maybe where Fabian could be wanting this to go-- he can't be sure. He has to be a good friend first.
Gorgug tries to take his tusks out carefully, shakily, gasping as his lips pull away from the ring of skin they've been planted against all this time. Removes his hand from Fabian's thigh, letting go of the skin grasped there, and leans his weight on the one that had been on Fabian's shoulder, sliding it off to sit on the ground above it.
And Gorgug's eyes widen, just as he manages to lift his head to look down at Fabian, inhaling sharply as he feels a sting from his palm: and always sees a streak of red on Fabian. A few steaks, actually. ]
I-I think we're bleeding.
[ There's a face to be examined, taken note of, Gorgug's own a darkened through activity and the tips of his tusks coloured red, his breathing heavy, shaky.
But that's what he whispers first, as the lustre goes from Gorgug's eyes, and the pain from taking Fandrangor between his hands starts to itch against his skin.
And it's getting itchier by the second. ]
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It was a little easier to not think about any of this during the act itself. Easier to just lie there and let it happen, especially since it's not like Fabian needed to do anything for that. Even if he'd lie there completely still, Gorgug would just keep going and maybe-- maybe Fabian wanted him to, or something, or-- well, that's the not thinking part. He can't exactly recall what went through his head, or maybe he doesn't want to.
But with Gorgug suddenly pulling away - Fabian letting out a pained hiss when the tusks move out of his skin, a painful sting no matter how careful his friend is being - reality is dawning a lot harder on Fabian.
Especially when he sees the blood on the other. And the darkness in Gorgug's face. And the way Gorgug sounds so like-- well, like Gorgug again, without any of the rage. It takes away the momentum that was at least keeping some of Fabian's embarrassment about the entire situation at bay, but the way it is so suddenly over means that he's only getting smacked in the face harder by it now.
He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't! He's not going to! He's simply not going to think about it!
So he doesn't. As Fabian half-sits up, he doesn't think about the sore pain in the exact area where Gorgug bit him. He doesn't think about how there must be a mark. He doesn't think about the other on him only a moment ago, or the blush on his skin. None of it. Not thinking. Just asking, subtly, smoothly-- ]
Doyouneedmetohealyou?!
[ So smooth.
So subtle.
HE'S NOT THINKING ABOUT IT!! ]
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Gorgug can't concentrate on how Fabian looks, seems. He hears his fluster about healing, but the pain in his hands is growing by the second, and his mind starts focusing a lot more on that--on cutting himself against a magical sword like Fandragnor, and a cut somewhere near his abdomen, and how being hutched over Fabian isn't probably a good idea right now, either. Even though he looks down at Fabian again, he doesn't say anything immediately.
But Fabian will get a sight as his face twists into a pout, before Gorgug starts to try and shuffle himself off and away from the other without using his hands, falling back somewhere on his own ass and off Fabian's legs. Lamely, as he does this: ] It hurts.
[ All that cool, violent rage is being erased from the environment as Gorgug's softer side begins to show itself....the one that can still be a baby over the smallest, simplest things. Like gashes across his hands from an elven blade.
Very small, indeed.
But it's also a good distraction, away from the heat that's still sticking to his face and reaching around his ears. A warmth in his body that has nothing to do with anger, and how he's glad for his hoodie. How he's hovering his arms and hands and wanting them to take precedent: to the rest of his body, to everything that came before this moment. Fabian's name in his ears, his tusks buried into Fabian's skin, and how good it felt to be there.
Gorgug closes his eyes. Fabian asked something about healing, but he doesn't want to do anything but cup his hands together, mumbling and circling them and trying to get a Cure Wounds spell going, than to think about Fabian (and what they were doing? maybe?) right now. The pain is easier to focus on, and process. The pain should both go and stay.
Because he just thought about something really, really embarrassing, and he's probably the worst friend in any world ever. Oh no. ]
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It's only something he fully realizes when he moves to sit up further. Propping himself up on his elbows was one thing, but fully sitting up is another, and Fabian feels his own body protesting against the idea. He's not even sure if he's bleeding the way Gorgug is, or if his body is just sore from trying to deal with getting knocked around and bitten.
But despite his inability to heal Gorgug in this state, Fabian is still worried.
Worried enough to be impulsive. To not really think.
Which, in this case, means that he's moving over to where Gorgug is sitting. He leans forwards and towards the other by supporting his body with his hands while Fabian is also still sitting on the ground. This by itself wouldn't be such a problem, but-- ]
Gorgug! Gorgug!! Are you alright?!
[ --his tanktop still isn't properly back into position, which means that as Fabian is shoving himself directly into his friend's business, the effect of Gorgug's actions is very, very visible. Especially when Fabian's bite isn't bleeding nearly as badly as Gorgug's cuts, making the bite mark that seems to have sunken very deep into Fabian's dark skin extremely visible. It's right there, the moment Gorgug would open his eyes. ]
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He doesn't want to deal with Fabian's shouting, especially when it moves so closely to his ears; he just wants to pretend he's doing a good job healing up his hands, except that's up for debate. The wound at least isn't drawing too much new blood, the work on it slow with Gorgug's lack of concentration. And that's before he does open his eyes, slowly answering, ] I'm fine...
[ Said, like the most pitiful way to announce you're fine. And that's before he sees the bite mark that's a soft bloom of colour against the tan of Fabian's skin. Gorgug eyes it briefly, a mix of emotions battling it out in already his overstimulated brain (how it felt to have his teeth dug in there, sucking against the skin, the sounds that Fabian made so close to his ear) before he has to tear his gaze away. ]
I'm sorry, [ he says, even more pitiful than the last time he spoke up. This is his state. This is his burden. ] I bit you, I didn't mean-- you spat at me!
[ It sounds like blame, when in truth, he's just reaching for things to say, to explain himself that isn't the lie, I didn't mean it. But he's continuing his whine, even though it means he isn't doing well on focusing on his healing: ] I was weird...
[ whiiiiiiiiiiiiineeee. ]
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By said bro not being attractive at all in this moment. It means Fabian can think about all of this later, when he's by himself, but he doesn't really have to contend with the complicated thoughts on all of it in this moment. Not while he's very much busy having to deal with a whining bro. ]
Dude, that was just your rage!
[ Yeah. That was it, right?
So there's no need to think about this. About any of it. The way his shoulder feels so incredibly sore whenever he moves a little bit isn't something he has to think all that deeply about, because it was just a case of rage getting a little bit out of hand. Clearly there's nothing else going on here. There's never been. ]
I'm not mad at you! [ In case that wasn't obvious yet. Fabian thought it was pretty obvious, but-- who knows? ] It's fine, it was just a bite!
[ W-What's a little bite between bros, right, h-haha--
It probably doesn't help that Fabian still hasn't moved out of Gorgug's personal space while the poor guy is just trying to focus on healing his hands.. ]
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Sometimes, his rages can influence his emotions after the fact; it's like getting punched emotionally after holding onto a steel hard violence for the entirety of the fight, and he's definitely shed a few tears after a battle that's gone on for too long. This isn't that, but next to his skull feeling like it's collecting cotton buds up there and pain that's stinging non-stop now with his hands, he wouldn't mind a small cry. That's got nothing to do with gaping hand wounds specifically, right??
Gorgug does sniffle, nodding his head furiously to focus, or just...trying to find control of himself, of the situation. ]
Okay, okay... it was just the rage... it's okay...
[ He's breathing, just trying to breathe, when he knows right now he won't be able to muster up the concentration he needs to keep the spell working on his hands. But he does sense Fabian too close, and opens his eyes again just so he can say: ]
Can you-- gimme some room? I can't think...
[ Bro, he just needs to...calm... from his not rage. His overstimulation come down. Bro. ]
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He groans, like he's only now fully realizing just how sore he's feeling, fingers moving to feel along the spot where Gorgug bit him, still feeling the indentations of the other's tusks in his skin.
(God, it's like he can almost imagine Gorgug over him again-- he quickly pulls his fingers away from it, not minding the bit of blood that sticks to his fingertips.)
To try and not focus too hard on that, he instead just looks over in Gorgug's direction to see if the other has managed to heal himself already. I-It's fine, he can just focus on making sure his friend is alright - maybe he should call a healer if Gorgug can't manage it by himself? - and not think about anything else.
Because there's nothing to think about.
Obviously. ]
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But it's probably because this isn't as serious that it makes Gorgug's work slower. Still, the wounds on either palm are beginning to stitch together, muscle closing in, blood no longer having reason to spill. It's tender, and the ache continues to remind Gorgug of where the cuts are without looking, but it's a softer sort than what it started off as; it's an ache that's half-phantom when he finally looks at his hands again and carefully flexes his fingers.
It's not a perfect job, and he winces in the action, but it's bearable for the time being. A reminder that Fandragnor is no joke, and he'll have to think twice before he picks back up his axe from wherever he threw it earlier.
But Gorgug's not thinking about his axe. If it's a thought, it's one that flutters away as he looks over at Fabian, and-- does just that. His eyes fall to where the bite mark sits, or where he can guess fairly well its place underneath Fabian's tank top, and his stomach does a flip that he doesn't know the emotion for. Or, that he thinks he doesn't want to know; because he returns his focus back onto Fabian's face, his lips parted slightly, and he's struggling. He's torn.
He wants to know if he can see anything that would give away that Fabian felt what he did too--that Gorgug wasn't the only one, and that it was okay, it was--mutual. But he doesn't know that he wants to be found out, like the question of what he felt is plastered on his expression, clear as day, and he can be read despite being the only one who sunk into a different kind of state of mind when Fabian moaned with his lips on his skin.
That Fabian will see something he doesn't like, and Gorgug... he doesn't want to put that on his friend. They're friends. He should be acting like a friend.
So he diverts back to his hands again, a familiar excuse. ]
...This is the best I can do, [ he says. ] I-- I think I can still spar, but I might need a while to let my hands heal more. Can we continue later?
[ A beat. ] We don't have to do that again.
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That easily settles it. The thing Fabian was talking about, anyway. Gorgug is not saying a thing about what happened between the two of them just now, and Fabian is pretty sure it's got nothing to do with the other not remembering what just happened because of his rage.
It's more just that it wasn't a big deal to begin with, right? Gorgug just did that because he was in a rage, and if the other seems a touch embarrassed at all, it's probably just about the rage taking him over to this extent. Whatever weird feeling Fabian had for a moment-- it's nothing. It doesn't matter.
So he breathes in, breathes out, and puts it out of his mind for a moment. If it doesn't matter, he shouldn't allow it to linger, and Fabian jumps right back up onto his feet despite his aching and protesting body. ]
Are you kidding me? Come on, Gorgug, the spar is the last thing you should think about when you're hurt! [ Or, you know, half-healed. What kind of guy would it make Fabian if he forced his friend to duel him while he looks like he wouldn't even be able to hold his axe right now with his hands in this state?
A jerk, that's what. A jerk who had some real weird feelings that he doesn't ever have to think about again. ]
We can always practice some more some other time. For now-- Can you get up?
[ Fabian would offer his hand, but..
You know. Kind of hard to do that when he's pretty sure holding Gorgug's hand to help his friend get up might just make it harder on Gorgug to get up in the first place, rather than easier. ]
Do you need my help? You need to let your hands rest.
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It's okay, I can-- I got it.
[ Thankfully, it's just his hands that are the real problem, and Gorgug manages to pick himself onto his feet with nothing more than a wobble. It's not graceful (grace isn't a part of Gorgug's anything), but it does the job.
But now that he's on his feet, looking at Fabian once more, his eyes drifting downward towards his collar--he turns his gaze away as he asks: ]
Is your-- are you okay? [ He glances back at him, but only glances. Look at his hands, they're so...hands.... ] Your...the bitemark.
[ The bitemark, the bite indentation. The puncture wound.
Nothing else. It was just a bite and nothing else. ]
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.. yet there's a tiny part of him that worries that maybe it isn't the reason. Is it because of what happened? Did Gorgug realize that Fabian's body had a very specific reaction to what Gorgug was doing to him-- Does he think Fabian is dirty now? It doesn't seem likely with the way his friend is giving him that worried gaze, and yet the thought still exists somewhere in Fabian's mind, a tiny voice nagging him in the back of his brain.
He swallows. ]
It's fine.
[ It's not really fine. Not in the moment, anyway. It hurts like hell, and Fabian isn't sure if you need to get yourself checked out for something after getting bit by another person, but he doesn't want to think of that. He doesn't want to draw attention to the wound when that voice in the back of his mind exists, making him feel all insecure about what might be going through Gorgug's mind right now.
So he says, again-- ]
Really. You think I haven't been bitten by bigger things than you during all the fights we've been in? [ Fabian makes sure to attach a joking tone to it - because that's all this is! Lighthearted talk! A joke! Fabian is not worried about anything, and nothing happened. ]
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He brings his hands into view, or messes around with the fingers just to give the illusion that he's paying any attention to them, and not the things his body are trying to tell him he wants to pay attention to. Did I do a bad job biting you? Should I try again? ]
Okay, [ is what he says; lamely, attempting to sound some semblance towards normal. ] We should clean it out when we get back... I don't know how clean my tusks are... I usually have to get tape for them if they're gonna get in the way.
[ Which probably sounds confusing or nonsensical to Fabian.
And to Gorgug, he isn't entirely thinking about what he's sharing, either: the certain kind of situations where his tusks might be a problem, that he doesn't usually share with others. ]
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Sure, his own mixed parentage is something that has consequences in his direct family, especially in the way his mother treats him, but it's never really been anything he's had to think about in any other sort of way. Especially when the only thing that really sets him apart from your average human is the shape of his ears.
So when Gorgug says that about his tusks, he has to blink for a moment to process it. Tape.. for them? D-Did he do that with Zelda? W-Wait, did he bite Zelda in the past?! Did they get in the way with kissing? God, wait, no, he should not be thinking about kissing--
Fabian abruptly shuts down his mind. The downside of this is that his thought just flows out of his mouth unfiltered, rather than his brain deciding maybe it's not the best idea to actually say it.
Which means he winks. Playfully. And then adds: ]
Well, we will be better prepared next time you bite me!
[ H-Haha. King? Bite him? King???
He is opting to absolutely not think about this. Zero thoughts about this right now. Zero thoughts about anything. ]
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Gorgug knows right away that Fabian means nothing by it.
But he still stares at him as he says it, wants to ask the question that's desperately pushing up his throat. You want me to do it again? It's a joke, because who would? If nothing between them happened, and it was nothing but a stupid result from his rage, which-- isn't untrue. It started that way, it came because of pride, but also became clearer it was about more than anger or ego and about the challenge Fabian was presenting to him, telling him to make him. Biting was never requested, demanded, or taunted--that was Gorgug.
And yet. You want me to do it again?
Gorgug only stares at Fabian for a couple of seconds before he ducks his head again, chuckling just to have some external reaction to that he knows he needs. But he needs to say something, actual words, when there's only one thing really bouncing around in his mind, that would match the energy Fabian's already giving him. So maybe if he starts to walk, the end of that chuckle on his lips, as he says it, then-- ]
You want me to bite you again?
[ --it can sound like nothing, while he's walking in the direction of where his axe got discarded because clearly, he's not thinking deeply about what he's saying either. He's not aware of any specific parts of his body that aren't his hands, obviously, and he's not thinking about tusks and lips and mouths.
All he has to focus on is his axe, and the best possible way to carefully pick it up to put back in its holster. ]
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If anything, Fabian's brain is currently doubling down on that idea. There's something about those words that threatens to set off an alarm in his mind, but as if to anticipate that and prevent it from happening - because Fabian's brainspace would turn into a total jumbled mess if that alarm did go off - his brain absolutely makes zero no thoughts emerge. Nothing at all.
It's why he just replies, his back turned towards Gorgug with the direction he's walking in and one hand dismissively waved in the air-- ]
If you want to!
[ A reply that likely does not help. But again. Zero thoughts. Zero thoughts!!!
So much zero thoughts going on that Fabian looks entirely casual despite the words he just said when he turns around to look at Gorgug picking up that axe. ]
Are you ready now? We should hurry back!
[ I hope you aren't busy imagining what's going on in Fabian's head right now, Gorgug. Especially with those words from a second ago. It's zero thoughts, that's what it is. His brain will likely punish him for this by overthinking it later, but Fabian is - thankfully for current Fabian, a little less thankfully for future Fabian - at the moment saving himself from any of that. ]
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Not with that answer. Not with that ringing in his ears, drilling inside his brain. If you want to. Gorgug wants to scream, and the desire (that desire, but also--) slams through his limbs, that he no longer cares as deeply about his recently healed hands as he should be. His axe is right there, and while he was worried about grabbing onto it with the freshly knitted skin, he thinks it wouldn't be a bad idea to slam it into the ground a few times?
He needs a shower. Gorgug's got the axe in his hands, and it's a credit to the metal that it's forged with that it doesn't break under his shaking grip. He has to look back at Fabian, walk with him--how is he supposed to do this?
(Later--far, far, later, Gorgug may realise this for what it is, for what he was burying away and refusing to admit it being: flirting. They were flirting.
And a lot would have been solved if he'd taken the opening and fucked Fabian in the middle of the open field that day.)
Gorgug swallows in the air that isn't fulfilling enough, looks over his shoulder as he slowly turns, or just enough to face the direction they need to go to get back. Nodding, but also shouting a ] O-okay! [ just to let Fabian know that he's coming.
And he's walking, axe still being carried by his hands than in its holster, even though: ]
Should I go to my lab? I think I've got something I can use...
[ H-haha, what if he ran off to his lab to hide? So he doesn't have to think about how turned on he is right now? God, is he glad he didn't start not ever wearing hoodies... ]