[It takes so long for him to respond. Hells' Teeth, there isn't any doubt as to why, either. Not after a message like that. Not when he's been flush to the core for more than fifteen minutes in a row, stiff through his joints right to the tips of his thumbs.
Thumbs that— after having retreated into his own private office— set to typing yet again.]
In a straight fight against you?
Not yet. [Possibly not ever.] But under less formal circumstances....? Like all those times I corner you in a smoky little backroom after one too many shots just to set my tongue along your neck and hear you groan, or let you watch as I let some buckish noble sate himself across my lap with your own table scraps, thinking they've made a feast of my skin, my mouth, my roaming, listless touch- not knowing how much more I give you at a glance, unpromted....
no subject
Thumbs that— after having retreated into his own private office— set to typing yet again.]
In a straight fight against you?
Not yet. [Possibly not ever.] But under less formal circumstances....? Like all those times I corner you in a smoky little backroom after one too many shots just to set my tongue along your neck and hear you groan, or let you watch as I let some buckish noble sate himself across my lap with your own table scraps, thinking they've made a feast of my skin, my mouth, my roaming, listless touch- not knowing how much more I give you at a glance, unpromted....
well
I'd argue there, we're even.