[No, he's none of those things. Dezel has never been one to pity, since he's never wanted pity. He could never be anything but genuine with his affection-- that is, when he finally allows himself to feel it. That had taken a while, expedited certainly by Sorey's sacrifice and Rose's guidance. But a hole remained-- a hole that, he realizes, is only just beginning to heal.
He whispers Sorey's name against his skin like a promise, draws out more kisses along the pulse of his throat and the bump of his prominence. And then Sorey touches him again. He sucks in a breath in anticipation and tightens his grip in Sorey's hair, but then those fingers work lower and deeper, and--
-- he groans throatily and shoves his hips into the younger man's hand. His lashes flutter beneath his bangs.] Y-yeah, damn, that's...
[Figures that Sorey barely has to touch him to make him rock solid.]
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He whispers Sorey's name against his skin like a promise, draws out more kisses along the pulse of his throat and the bump of his prominence. And then Sorey touches him again. He sucks in a breath in anticipation and tightens his grip in Sorey's hair, but then those fingers work lower and deeper, and--
-- he groans throatily and shoves his hips into the younger man's hand. His lashes flutter beneath his bangs.] Y-yeah, damn, that's...
[Figures that Sorey barely has to touch him to make him rock solid.]