bardische | (Reply)

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[for a moment, Olivine can only smile, reaching to take Basch's free hand in his own in a moment of reassurance.]

Just breathe. No one will be looking too hard at you, Basch. I'll make sure of it.

[it's perhaps a strange thing to say, an offering to make... but Olivine is into this. he's into the idea of being noticed, of being coveted just outside of someone else's reach. it's even easier here, where no one really knows who or what he is.

he's not exaggerating to say no one is going to be paying attention to Basch's face, either, or anything else that would immediately ID him. sure, he's not openly out in a mess of straps and clasps, but people are always more interested in the show, the gossip of it.

... in any case, the going is easy until it's absolutely not, and a moment of confusion sees them both pulling in opposite directions, leash going taut and tugging Olivine along both in response and out of necessity to not trip someone else. it could be forgiven if Basch didn't hear the absolutely lascivious noise it rips out of the priest, catching the ear (and eyes) of a few passersby.

not so long ago, it would have made him want to die. to just wither away into the dark never to be seen again, even in this crowd of strangers. it's really because of that that he can understand Basch's own hesitation, and it would have probably stamped out his embarrassment even were it still stronger. the blond steps in to him, and in turn Olivine's gaze tilts up just the slightest bit.]

... I'm fine. [softly, and as eyes wander his body, utterly unaware that Basch finds it even the slightest bit salacious, he can't help it. he promised, after all, and so he reaches up to gently cradle the blond's jaw, eyes closing briefly. then, a little louder:] You're my master, and I should be able to follow you anywhere. Please forgive me, but I can't help but like it when you make it hard on me. It reminds me that you're not looking at anyone else.

[the words are... only half improvised. it's easy to speak from the depths of what he's been thinking for the last—God, however long it's been since they'd stepped out of the baths. moreover, when he presses in close enough that their chests press together, bulky arms cover his face when he leans in to whisper, with a little more kindness and honesty:]

You won't hurt me, Basch. I've... been hoping you would pull a little since we left the store. I'll take whatever you're willing to give.

[it's going to be a lot to take in all at once, but while they're here in public, things happen fast. just like him stepping back to bow down, ever the picture of a penitent man.

he just... hopes it isn't too much all at once. he'd meant to take it a little slower, at least until they were properly in private.]