Oh my god you're going to get us all fucking killed in the aftermath of his rage fit because he'll just implode like a tiny bomb and destroy us all.
[ Tristan reaches a hand up to thread fingers through Max's hair, scratching in much the way you might your favorite pet dog. Or cat. Or any other fluffy animal with a proclivity for wanting to be scritched just behind the ears. It's reward for sliding callused, warm, wet hands along his body, smoothing slowly over his skin in a way that makes him absolutely melt, teeth dragging slowly over his lip as he indulges every little touch with a directional response (a little arching, a bit of twisting, over here.)
Also damn you, get your fingers off his nips. They're sensitive. Not that he's stopping him. ]
Well, you know, secret raptor society. We're super duper tricky. Very sneaky. We pick our prey carefully and evaluate and shit for years. I've been waiting since we met in school for you to get swole and bam.
[ He adjusts a little bit in the tub now so his entire face doesn't just melt right down into the water, because that's what all this stroking is doing, making him slide into the water so his speech becomes muffled and his knees have to prop up accordingly to keep them situated properly in the cozy bath. Tristan turns, giving Max a warm, little smile. It's times like these, the easy jokes, the stupid chatter, that makes him think of how much easier shit has gotten since they arrived here. How they could be content as all get out in this stupid house in a way they couldn't be back home.
A little sad, isn't it.
He tugs again, thoughtfully, with low hum. ]
Totally a secret T-Rex. But with big arms, not little arms. I mean we could dress him up as a T-Rex and you could sex-ride him and we could film it and it could be the nest Pterodactyl sex. [ He turns again the water. ] Did I show that vid to you?
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[ Tristan reaches a hand up to thread fingers through Max's hair, scratching in much the way you might your favorite pet dog. Or cat. Or any other fluffy animal with a proclivity for wanting to be scritched just behind the ears. It's reward for sliding callused, warm, wet hands along his body, smoothing slowly over his skin in a way that makes him absolutely melt, teeth dragging slowly over his lip as he indulges every little touch with a directional response (a little arching, a bit of twisting, over here.)
Also damn you, get your fingers off his nips. They're sensitive. Not that he's stopping him. ]
Well, you know, secret raptor society. We're super duper tricky. Very sneaky. We pick our prey carefully and evaluate and shit for years. I've been waiting since we met in school for you to get swole and bam.
[ He adjusts a little bit in the tub now so his entire face doesn't just melt right down into the water, because that's what all this stroking is doing, making him slide into the water so his speech becomes muffled and his knees have to prop up accordingly to keep them situated properly in the cozy bath. Tristan turns, giving Max a warm, little smile. It's times like these, the easy jokes, the stupid chatter, that makes him think of how much easier shit has gotten since they arrived here. How they could be content as all get out in this stupid house in a way they couldn't be back home.
A little sad, isn't it.
He tugs again, thoughtfully, with low hum. ]
Totally a secret T-Rex. But with big arms, not little arms. I mean we could dress him up as a T-Rex and you could sex-ride him and we could film it and it could be the nest Pterodactyl sex. [ He turns again the water. ] Did I show that vid to you?