when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives
Asking Finn what he'd like is a bad idea, because that way lies madness, but as for the rest? He shifts in the water and settles in behind the Flood, and hands already slick and hot with bath oils glide up and along Sunjata's upper arms to the blocks of tense muscle that double as his shoulders. "So you shouldn't. What do you carry on these, the weight of the world?" It's a bad joke, and one that's only softly murmured from somewhere close to Jata's left ear.
One learns many talents in the profession of prostitution, as Sunjata is about to find out, because the Spyglass's strong fingers are surprisingly skilled at working the aches and pains from the Flood's neck and shoulders - or if not working them out, at least unknotting them enough that they might not feel so bad. "What made you help out the Halenani?" he asks, genuinely curious.
One learns many talents in the profession of prostitution, as Sunjata is about to find out, because the Spyglass's strong fingers are surprisingly skilled at working the aches and pains from the Flood's neck and shoulders - or if not working them out, at least unknotting them enough that they might not feel so bad. "What made you help out the Halenani?" he asks, genuinely curious.
Finn?
