📀

if i pick up the vibe that i’m gonna fuck someone, i’m like “be right back :)” and i go and i wash my hands. if i can’t do it at that moment, then i’m not putting my fingers in them because i have no fucking idea what their body may or may not be sensitive to and i certainly would not have been keeping track of everything i have or haven’t touched since the last time i washed them.

> Like everything Davyd has done up until this point, it takes him a few moments to acclimate to the warmth - both from Aitar's hands and the water, hissing slightly, feathers puffing at the shock of the heat.

[Aitar's hands hesitate when Davyd tightens under him, but he doesn't pull away. Thank goodness, because he lets it happen after a bit. He pets down, moments later, fluffed feathers, and follows Davyd into the water quietly. He waits until he's almost disappeared in the water to lower himself, descending up to his shoulders and laying his head against the rim. He closes his eyes and lets his body be buoyed up, floating a couple of inches beneath the surface.]

The lesser God watches the water ripple as they enter. His words feel distant, muffled by the water. But he nods none the less, leaning his head out of the water to respond with a quiet, "you do."

> Davyd nods as he begins to slowly peel his clothes off. He's slower than he would be if he was trying to be seductive, each move weighed down.

[This is...less cute, pretty immediately. The concern he feels shows only in a slight squeeze around his eyes, not wanting to make Davyd feel immediately bad for himself. He takes in his body, his scar getting ugly and lumpy with excess tissue.]

> Like everything Davyd has done up until this point, it takes him a few moments to acclimate to the warmth - both from Aitar's hands and the water, hissing slightly, feathers puffing at the shock of the heat.