"I don't know what you're talking about," Taras grated. "That's a word for children."
The images that the dancer's words evoked made something shiver inside him. He remembered Barshai's taut, muscular stomach, perfectly sculpted, like ancient art.
That was the strange thing about Barshai. He was a tall man, body honed and strong, obviously intelligent and observant of people around him.
A man like that could be dominant in just about anything he chose. Yet Barshai chose to give to the will of others, instead.
At the same time, the dancer was not passive. He had his own agenda, even if Taras didn't understand it, and in his own way, was just as passionate about pursuing it.
Taras let his hand inch down his stomach, coming to a rest at his hip, rubbing it like an aching muscle.
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Date: 2008-08-28 03:33 am (UTC)The images that the dancer's words evoked made something shiver inside him. He remembered Barshai's taut, muscular stomach, perfectly sculpted, like ancient art.
That was the strange thing about Barshai. He was a tall man, body honed and strong, obviously intelligent and observant of people around him.
A man like that could be dominant in just about anything he chose. Yet Barshai chose to give to the will of others, instead.
At the same time, the dancer was not passive. He had his own agenda, even if Taras didn't understand it, and in his own way, was just as passionate about pursuing it.
Taras let his hand inch down his stomach, coming to a rest at his hip, rubbing it like an aching muscle.
He kept his eyes closed.
"I wouldn't hurt you, Barshai."
Taras exhaled, a soft grunt.
"I wouldn't try to break you."