( neuvillette doesn't need the intervention, much less protection, but that wriothesley does it all the same for him makes something warm curl in the pit of his stomach, rousing instincts that he had thought extinct, considering how dormant they had been all along.
a dragon's instincts, perhaps. he's never been a fan of physical violence and thus, up until now, had never turned up at these kinds of events. a choice that seems to be quite the mistake now that he's seen wriothesley in action. swift, deadly, efficient, with that remarkable, scarred body glistening in sweat, that chest heaving and those midnight blue eyes focused, and those fists, the power in them as they put men down (so many of them bigger than him), and the effortless way he commands the men in here...
neuvillette's barely paying attention to what he's saying, especially when he's still half-naked right beside him, and he can feel the heat of the duke's body, the rumbling of his words. power, wielded so beautifully, and that instinct to protect is all that he can think about. )
My most sincere apologies. ( he offers, even if his voice sounds distant to him, like someone else is speaking it. never has he been so intoxicatingly roused and wanting, every sense attuned to this man beside him. it is primal, this thing that coils in him, this recognition and admiration and desire, deeper than he's ever felt. )
You're... do you do this often?
and then you didn't see me for two whole weeks, thanks holidays
[ it's not a long trek back to his office, a boon granted by the particular design chosen by the original architect of meropide. being central to every part of the fortress means being able to run out and back at a moment's notice—and also being able to usher the chief justice to relative privacy during times like these. ]
What, walk around topless for everyone to see? Only on special occasions, and what could possibly be more special than a visit from Fontaine's very own Chief Justice.
[ there's a wolfish hint to his smile, a teasing lilt to his voice.
through the solid doors to the duke's office, and then up the metal stairs to his desk, and then it's a matter of gesturing for neuvillette to take a seat as he hunts for a towel to dry off with. ]
But if you mean Pankration, every now and then. It's a good way to work off some steam while getting a pulse check on things around here firsthand, instead of waiting for someone to deliver a report to my desk.
[ sigewinne might not approve, but they've long since come to a tacit understanding that he's allowed to get his punches in so long as he exercises some restraint. speaking of restraint—he really ought to put on a shirt, instead of walking around with nothing but trousers and a towel slung around his neck. confidence or no, personal relationship or no, this is a business meeting until proven otherwise. and neuvillette, standing there in his flawless robes looking almost otherworldly against the mechanical backdrop of his office, makes him even more keenly aware of his own state of undress.
so! off with the towel, and on with threading one arm through an empty shirtsleeve. though most of the sweat has since dried or been toweled off, there's still a healthy flush to his skin and a faint sheen under the dim light. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i see you!
a dragon's instincts, perhaps. he's never been a fan of physical violence and thus, up until now, had never turned up at these kinds of events. a choice that seems to be quite the mistake now that he's seen wriothesley in action. swift, deadly, efficient, with that remarkable, scarred body glistening in sweat, that chest heaving and those midnight blue eyes focused, and those fists, the power in them as they put men down (so many of them bigger than him), and the effortless way he commands the men in here...
neuvillette's barely paying attention to what he's saying, especially when he's still half-naked right beside him, and he can feel the heat of the duke's body, the rumbling of his words. power, wielded so beautifully, and that instinct to protect is all that he can think about. )
My most sincere apologies. ( he offers, even if his voice sounds distant to him, like someone else is speaking it. never has he been so intoxicatingly roused and wanting, every sense attuned to this man beside him. it is primal, this thing that coils in him, this recognition and admiration and desire, deeper than he's ever felt. )
You're... do you do this often?
and then you didn't see me for two whole weeks, thanks holidays
What, walk around topless for everyone to see? Only on special occasions, and what could possibly be more special than a visit from Fontaine's very own Chief Justice.
[ there's a wolfish hint to his smile, a teasing lilt to his voice.
through the solid doors to the duke's office, and then up the metal stairs to his desk, and then it's a matter of gesturing for neuvillette to take a seat as he hunts for a towel to dry off with. ]
But if you mean Pankration, every now and then. It's a good way to work off some steam while getting a pulse check on things around here firsthand, instead of waiting for someone to deliver a report to my desk.
[ sigewinne might not approve, but they've long since come to a tacit understanding that he's allowed to get his punches in so long as he exercises some restraint. speaking of restraint—he really ought to put on a shirt, instead of walking around with nothing but trousers and a towel slung around his neck. confidence or no, personal relationship or no, this is a business meeting until proven otherwise. and neuvillette, standing there in his flawless robes looking almost otherworldly against the mechanical backdrop of his office, makes him even more keenly aware of his own state of undress.
so! off with the towel, and on with threading one arm through an empty shirtsleeve. though most of the sweat has since dried or been toweled off, there's still a healthy flush to his skin and a faint sheen under the dim light. ]
But what can I do for you, Monsieur Neuvillette?