[it had been a gambit, in part, to get Basch to focus on everyone else. to draw his thoughts in close, closer, until the world falls away—a tactic Eiden has used on him to great success too. he's certainly learned from every encounter they've had. he's also glad it works, even if he regrets having to cause more embarrassment, more shame.
they'll talk about it later, when they're not in public anymore. shame isn't something he deserves, and while he's sure that conversation won't go yet, he can at least offer him some comfort in private. hopefully.]
Yes, master. I will try to match your pace.
[in some way, it's a reciprocal thing, hearkening back to the letters etched in fog on glass. Olivine technically less so than Basch, but in ignoring his plain discomforts, there's something a little dehumanising in the moment.
before Basch begins moving, Olivine shifts to gently wrap some of the length of the lead around his hand, shortening the length. a reminder, a promise. that this is what he wants, what he's agreed to. shortening the leash only means it's easier to get little tugs in, even though the priest can more or less keep up.
he'll find no pain or discomfort in his voice though—quite the opposite. and though Olivine's heart pounds at the sensation of gazes on him, hungry and wanting, that too is not displeasure. he likes it. really likes it, in fact. being seen is usually such a fear, but no one knows him. no one is looking at a priest of Klein, just a young man in a leash, dutifully following his "master."]
... do you want to show them, Master?
[the sensation of anger is perhaps too real, and Olivine almost slips back into soothing. it's difficult to ask it as a question, rather than to reassure him that he's allowed to do it, that Olivine wants it. he's stepped up next to the taller man where he's paused, fingers subtly finding their way to cling to Basch's shirt to hopefully soothe.]
They can't have me, no matter how desperately they try. I know you'll protect me. But if you want to make them see, I trust you with all of me.
[he is... a pretty decent actor, really; all that idol training definitely paid off. it's not helping with dissuading the eyes on him, but that wasn't what he was trying to do anyway.]
no subject
they'll talk about it later, when they're not in public anymore. shame isn't something he deserves, and while he's sure that conversation won't go yet, he can at least offer him some comfort in private. hopefully.]
Yes, master. I will try to match your pace.
[in some way, it's a reciprocal thing, hearkening back to the letters etched in fog on glass. Olivine technically less so than Basch, but in ignoring his plain discomforts, there's something a little dehumanising in the moment.
before Basch begins moving, Olivine shifts to gently wrap some of the length of the lead around his hand, shortening the length. a reminder, a promise. that this is what he wants, what he's agreed to. shortening the leash only means it's easier to get little tugs in, even though the priest can more or less keep up.
he'll find no pain or discomfort in his voice though—quite the opposite. and though Olivine's heart pounds at the sensation of gazes on him, hungry and wanting, that too is not displeasure. he likes it. really likes it, in fact. being seen is usually such a fear, but no one knows him. no one is looking at a priest of Klein, just a young man in a leash, dutifully following his "master."]
... do you want to show them, Master?
[the sensation of anger is perhaps too real, and Olivine almost slips back into soothing. it's difficult to ask it as a question, rather than to reassure him that he's allowed to do it, that Olivine wants it. he's stepped up next to the taller man where he's paused, fingers subtly finding their way to cling to Basch's shirt to hopefully soothe.]
They can't have me, no matter how desperately they try. I know you'll protect me. But if you want to make them see, I trust you with all of me.
[he is... a pretty decent actor, really; all that idol training definitely paid off. it's not helping with dissuading the eyes on him, but that wasn't what he was trying to do anyway.]