[It's hard to say if they would be or not. He can't speak for the others, but... he, at least, likely would be. As often as he sets distance between them, Dimitri is still one of his only friends, and that's far more important to him than rank or status or even the fact that Dimitri is their king.
That does not change the fact, though, that Dimitri could still demand more of him than, perhaps, he may be comfortable with. What that might be, he doesn't know, but it's still a part of life.
That insistence does bring a quirk of a smile to his face. He'd made the same assertion back at the Monastery, to mixed effect. But... he's right. Here, at least, the only reason to hold on to propriety is... habit.
Even so, he very nearly steps away when Dimitri places his hand on his arm. When he wraps him close. When he rests his head against his. He doesn't pull away, but he does bring his hands up between them and places them on Dimitri's chest.
He can feel his heartbeat. His breathing. It's striking, after seeing him encased in heavy armor, shut away from the world, for so long.
He's held closer still, and he drops his head down to rest on Dimitri's shoulder, fingers curling in that shirt.]
You can't, because I'm... terrible. And more selfish than you deserve to be burdened with.
[He's playing with fire, and he knows it. Bright and hot and burning, threatening to get away from him, like when he'd first learned to cast, when little hands couldn't contain magefire.
But Dimitri asked for honesty. It's the least he can do to give it for once.]
Bluntly? I want as much of you as you're willing to give me.
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That does not change the fact, though, that Dimitri could still demand more of him than, perhaps, he may be comfortable with. What that might be, he doesn't know, but it's still a part of life.
That insistence does bring a quirk of a smile to his face. He'd made the same assertion back at the Monastery, to mixed effect. But... he's right. Here, at least, the only reason to hold on to propriety is... habit.
Even so, he very nearly steps away when Dimitri places his hand on his arm. When he wraps him close. When he rests his head against his. He doesn't pull away, but he does bring his hands up between them and places them on Dimitri's chest.
He can feel his heartbeat. His breathing. It's striking, after seeing him encased in heavy armor, shut away from the world, for so long.
He's held closer still, and he drops his head down to rest on Dimitri's shoulder, fingers curling in that shirt.]
You can't, because I'm... terrible. And more selfish than you deserve to be burdened with.
[He's playing with fire, and he knows it. Bright and hot and burning, threatening to get away from him, like when he'd first learned to cast, when little hands couldn't contain magefire.
But Dimitri asked for honesty. It's the least he can do to give it for once.]
Bluntly? I want as much of you as you're willing to give me.