[He sure is pushed up close, huh. Kakyoin doesn't complain- well, he mumbles something about Polnareff's hair messing up his hair, but they've been on the road for days and neither of them have perfect hair at the moment, anyway- and anyway, it's only for the sake of saying he's done it. The warmth he doesn't mind at all, as they have still failed to start a fire, and the proximity is...
Well, never mind whatever he was going to think about that, because it goes out the window completely when Polnareff starts reading about thighs and heat and rutting right into his ear. He can feel the low vibration of Polnareff's voice against his shoulder, and that really adds to the, ah, performance.]
I'm still not sure, [he says, and after a moment, as he turns the page once, twice as aloofly as he can with Polnareff basically stuck to him,] How about this part? His hands met the arch of her back as if in prayer— Is this templar erotica?—
[No, focus!! The smut!!!] —as if in prayer, her kiss hot against his throat. Once again she lifted her hips— [fwip, page turn] Oh, I've found the illustration.
[Given its purpose, it's a good illustration. That is to say: its intent is to excite and intrigue, and it definitely does that. Someone had drawn this with the intent of giving everyone an eyeful of bouncing tits and long, lean legs wrapped tight around someone's hips, and on that note, it absolutely succeeds. He's very fond of that picture. His mouth
It's not particularly anatomically accurate, mind, but again: is that the point? It is not.]
So keep reading.
[He shifts a little, settling in more. They are real close together, but honestly, it's fine. It's cold tonight and body heat is absolutely a thing. They're reading porn together, but hey, he'll move if, uh, things start to become a little inconvenient. In the meantime: he huffs out petulantly.]
Come on, you can't just stop in the middle of a sentence. If I wanted to just look at stuff, I'd go back to Kirkwall and hang out by the red light district.
Nobody's stopping you from looking at the other page.
[Judgmental side glance... The words are right there, buddy, the creatively drawn tits will be there even after Polnareff battles through the rest of this metaphor all by himself. Kakyoin holds the book up higher, pointedly, like they are earnestly both reading these words together for their literary merit and not their relative ridiculousness. Behold.
He hums after, which for a second seems like the only answer he's going to give with regards to the templar erotica question, but alright:] Templars wouldn't read a book this long. And they'd include more pictures.
[Ignoring the unfortunate implications of templar erotica if the mage lady remains a mage lady: templars are all meatheads who can't string more than a sentence together at a time, as far as Kakyoin is concerned. Their titty drawings aren't nearly as competent.
Still, and unrelated-sort-of to the smut, he can't help but recall that, oh yeah, they were supposed to be lighting a fire. Polnareff is, like— a living heater, it's almost weird, but there is another issue besides the source of warmth:]
If you can't get a fire going, how am I going to finish this book tonight?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Well, never mind whatever he was going to think about that, because it goes out the window completely when Polnareff starts reading about thighs and heat and rutting right into his ear. He can feel the low vibration of Polnareff's voice against his shoulder, and that really adds to the, ah, performance.]
I'm still not sure, [he says, and after a moment, as he turns the page once, twice as aloofly as he can with Polnareff basically stuck to him,] How about this part? His hands met the arch of her back as if in prayer— Is this templar erotica?—
[No, focus!! The smut!!!] —as if in prayer, her kiss hot against his throat. Once again she lifted her hips— [fwip, page turn] Oh, I've found the illustration.
no subject
It's not particularly anatomically accurate, mind, but again: is that the point? It is not.]
So keep reading.
[He shifts a little, settling in more. They are real close together, but honestly, it's fine. It's cold tonight and body heat is absolutely a thing. They're reading porn together, but hey, he'll move if, uh, things start to become a little inconvenient. In the meantime: he huffs out petulantly.]
Come on, you can't just stop in the middle of a sentence. If I wanted to just look at stuff, I'd go back to Kirkwall and hang out by the red light district.
[. . . actually:]
Wait, have you read templar erotica?
no subject
[Judgmental side glance... The words are right there, buddy, the creatively drawn tits will be there even after Polnareff battles through the rest of this metaphor all by himself. Kakyoin holds the book up higher, pointedly, like they are earnestly both reading these words together for their literary merit and not their relative ridiculousness. Behold.
He hums after, which for a second seems like the only answer he's going to give with regards to the templar erotica question, but alright:] Templars wouldn't read a book this long. And they'd include more pictures.
[Ignoring the unfortunate implications of templar erotica if the mage lady remains a mage lady: templars are all meatheads who can't string more than a sentence together at a time, as far as Kakyoin is concerned. Their titty drawings aren't nearly as competent.
Still, and unrelated-sort-of to the smut, he can't help but recall that, oh yeah, they were supposed to be lighting a fire. Polnareff is, like— a living heater, it's almost weird, but there is another issue besides the source of warmth:]
If you can't get a fire going, how am I going to finish this book tonight?