rotting like a wreck on the ocean floor

The claws against Loren's hip caused him to smirk. "Wrong question." Leaning forward, he whispered seductively and challengingly in Sunjata's ear. "The question is whether you can take it." The healer returned to his previous position, breath hot against the bartender's lips. "I'm not convinced." Then the Launceleyn closed the distance between them once more. There wasn't anything gentle about the kiss: it was hunger and passion, made bold by liquid courage. Almost immediately, he sought out the other man's lower lip, worrying it between teeth that didn't particularly care if they drew blood. Similarly, Loren's fingers dug into the Sunjata's thigh almost painfully, before they began to creep forward towards the bartender's crotch. LOREN Not quite an open book