[Enciodes just barely got here some time ago and Gnosis is already hopping into his pants sorry not sorry— five months is a long time to go without getting lovingly railed by your husband, okay! He hasn't been thinking about anything intimate since he arrived, and now Enciodes is doing that thing he does that's very hot (installing a better system of government for the uncontrollable populace) and maybe Gnosis has been a little more lonely than he thought.

Also, hand in his tailfeathers. That does things to him.]

I have more energy than I expected to have ever since your arrival. By all means, you may have me in any way you'd want.

[Gross.

Impatient hands are already pulling open that shirt, though Gnosis doesn't immediately wrest his husband's arms free of the sleeves. Rather, his fingertips wander the expanse of Enciodes' chest, to the scars across his skin, tracing them with a certain fondness he always expresses for them. There are myriads, of course, but Gnosis has each one memorized regardless; a simple task, to commit each mark upon Enciodes' skin to memory, especially ones he's dragged his lips over before.

Tonight, his lips press to the snow leopard's neck with fluttering kisses, and any bite marks that he may choose to leave are in places easily hidden by a shirt collar.]