[Lorenz is slow to release him, and so too is Fenris slow to rise, sitting up languidly, taking his time standing. It really is in part for his stitches, but it's also because he just plain enjoys being pressed up against him.
Anyway. He's equally languid in how he shimmies off his trousers (jeans, an incredibly comfortable invention that he enjoys, never let it be said Fenris hated all of Prisma). He still doesn't wear underwear, but it's not as if Lorenz hasn't seen every inch of him by now. But ah, shirts . . . he goes for the plainest one available, a silk button-up that's a size too big for him.
It hangs off him in the best way, collar sliding to one side, the hem hitting mid-thigh. He might fuss about Lorenz's height on other days, but he's particularly grateful for it tonight. He stands there for just a moment, offering Lorenz a view, before coming back to bed.]
no subject
[Lorenz is slow to release him, and so too is Fenris slow to rise, sitting up languidly, taking his time standing. It really is in part for his stitches, but it's also because he just plain enjoys being pressed up against him.
Anyway. He's equally languid in how he shimmies off his trousers (jeans, an incredibly comfortable invention that he enjoys, never let it be said Fenris hated all of Prisma). He still doesn't wear underwear, but it's not as if Lorenz hasn't seen every inch of him by now. But ah, shirts . . . he goes for the plainest one available, a silk button-up that's a size too big for him.
It hangs off him in the best way, collar sliding to one side, the hem hitting mid-thigh. He might fuss about Lorenz's height on other days, but he's particularly grateful for it tonight. He stands there for just a moment, offering Lorenz a view, before coming back to bed.]