[A quick blink of surprise–Baroona wasn't expecting to be matched–that he recovers quickly from, shifting slowly into the new position. Working his hips, the curve of his back–using every motion he can to gradually slide the fish off the stick. Holding it by the tailfin, he stabs the rest of the stick into the ground beside them, tearing off a chunk, never once breaking eye contact.]
Not if the invitation's open. [A beat. Another shift.] Open your mouth.
[His voice is a silky purr but his eyes are alight with a dare. He moves his free hand with a roll of a shoulder and a push of the chest to wrap around Zelos' neck, fingers toying idly with his hair. His other hand places the chunk of fish between his teeth, falling to his side as he leans down and meets his mouth without touching it, using his tongue to push the chunk of meat in.]
no subject
Not if the invitation's open. [A beat. Another shift.] Open your mouth.
[His voice is a silky purr but his eyes are alight with a dare. He moves his free hand with a roll of a shoulder and a push of the chest to wrap around Zelos' neck, fingers toying idly with his hair. His other hand places the chunk of fish between his teeth, falling to his side as he leans down and meets his mouth without touching it, using his tongue to push the chunk of meat in.]