[Dezel makes a noise not unlike a soft chuckle.] Nope. It's the truth. I lie about as well as you do, or at least that's what the others say. [A sigh, half-exasperated; it's difficult to sound inconvenienced with lovely calloused fingers sketching across his skin. He presses his lips to Sorey's temple and lingers there for a few seconds, simply enjoying the fact that they have this.

Dezel's fingertips freeze behind Sorey's neck. Whatever he was thinking of saying promptly vanishes.]

Sorey...

[He could almost say something like you already do and mean it completely, but he's never been that kind of bold. Dezel doesn't respond immediately; he appears to be considering his options as he draws invisible lines down Sorey's chest and lower, lower, lower-- until he pauses with his hand on Sorey's lower stomach.

He doesn't touch the obvious place. It would be easy to, and Sorey would probably enjoy it, but Dezel wants Sorey to set the pace. He's aware of the irony even as he's asked about what he wants.]

... Touch me?

[His fingertips slip lower, stroking at the fold of Sorey's hip and thigh. He hopes he's giving Sorey ideas. If he isn't, well, maybe it's hopeless after all.]

I want to feel you. In every sense of the word.