"My heart beats like a drum, like a drum"
Still he continued, still he went on. Strel had to lower his muzzle, turn his eye to the man, rather than look away from him. His look was one of sadness as he watched the man so easily say what he did. It seemed as though he was trying so hard to make it casual, like something he would say offhandedly on any day of the week, whenever it took his fancy to. Noss seemed so relaxed kneeling on the ground before him, trying to be gentle. As though Strel was some kind of a delicate woman to be coddled. He could always force him, Noss had to know that. But he also seemed to know that Strel was no regular hardheaded warrior; rough was not his way, even if it might have been so in bed at times. That did not mean he condoned violence or forceful actions. And he was telling the truth. Strel's heart started to pound a little bit, both from the alcohol's influence and his own emotions kicking in. "Do you promise? Do you promise me?"
It seemed so odd to hear anyone tell him that, even though Strel had been trying so hard to break him, prove to himself that Noss was just having a passing lust. But he was sticking around, even if he was leaving for a while. Away from him, but that still hurt. There had been no invitation for him to join them both. But it was obvious Noss knew that the redhead's place was here, both as a tailor and as one of the oldest members of the kingdom. He had to stay, he had to be here for the home he had taken as his own, as the place he belonged. And Noss said he was coming home to it, to him. Strel's face did not change but he lowered his arms, letting one lay limply on the bed as he leaned forward to caress the other man's face. He softly told him, "Join me up here," as he moved over on the mattress in an attempt to make room for him. Strel had to drop his hand from the other man's face, but Noss might want his touch enough to join him.
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