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[ OPEN ] And I'm on tonight you know my hips don't lie and I'm starting to feel it's right
WHO: Zevran, His Kestrels, and You
WHAT: Music, Dance, Shenanigans
WHEN: Current
WHERE: The Herald's Rest
NOTES: It's Zev and dancing. There might end up being shiftlessness, seductions, and intoxication.
WHAT: Music, Dance, Shenanigans
WHEN: Current
WHERE: The Herald's Rest
NOTES: It's Zev and dancing. There might end up being shiftlessness, seductions, and intoxication.
[ The Learning ]
It wasn't an intentional lesson, this. There was music, there was wine, there was talk of dancing in the small cleared space between tables. Tossing about ideas of what to play, how to dance, when Zevran made mention of a method of training oneself to isolate movement that was more or less a dance and the younger Kestrels (all but Settimo) expressed their interest. He sent Vitta to gather a few coin covered scarves and belts in all manner of colors from his room and gathered the rest to walk them through it.
Anyone else that was curious might join in, Zevran was something of a hands on teacher, adjusting posture with a hand to the plane of a back, the curve of a hip, showing with his own demonstrations as much as by moving his students by feel so they knew how it was to stand, to move, to roll. Little things, hip rolls, undulating like a snake, how to pop one's hip or hold one's shoulders still while the legs and hips do their work- these he went through as best he could before Vita returned and he offered a proper demonstration.
[ The Dancing ]
After a quick duet, all rolling hips and wide, flirtatious smiles, the Kestrels took turns dancing either on their own or with someone else that had expressed interest. Zevran, likewise, was content to either offer pointers here and there or dance alongside- or against- anyone that would have him. There was wine, there was music, there was warmth in the building and he could think of no better reason than to attempt to have a good time. The show seemed more than enough for those that didn't wish to participate on their own- apparently anything was a good change of pace from Maryden's ballads now and then.
[ The Mending / The Resting ]
Learning to bend oneself in new and exciting ways, to move or not move as one willed- it could create soreness or the occasional sprain if one was not careful. Teresa took time away from the dancing and the drinking to tend to any that might have twisted something they should not, had slipped and fallen or overextended a limb in an attempt to learn this manner of dancing. Or, more often, to offer glasses of either watered down ale or water proper to those taking a break from all the dancing. Zevran himself would flop down on a chair time to time, shirtless and sweating, watching the group with a crackle of laughter. Now this? This was living.

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And he had to pull back, otherwise Zevran would never be able to return to what he truly needed to do right now. Knowing himself as well as he did, Michel would scoop him up and carry him off, without question, "the things you do to me, but anymore than this and I'll be hard pressed to let you leave my side."
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ghosts linger and cry out against folly. Zevran cannot help but mind them for a little while longer.
How much more use they might be to him- he cannot say. But for the moment he pulled back, skin flushed red, eye bright, swallowing past this flash of desire or sentiment or whatever else knotted in his throat, tangling his tongue and words. "You already have something quite hard pressed against me, Soleil."
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"Mmm...it would seem so...and I find myself with very few options in remedying the situation," and none of these options were prefereable given what they needed to do and wanted to do. Zevran's hand discreetly taking care of him, or Michel taking care of himself on his own, or he could always go for the third option and will it away and that would probably be his best option.
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It was easier to speak of such things than the flush to his skin or the knot in his throat. To think of this as mere attraction than anything that would speak of deeper feelings. Sentiment was- it was not for him. It was not for them, no matter how appealing Michel might make such a thing. To twits it into a naughty game? That would make it easier. "Walk down to the hotsprings and tend to yourself there- or hold off and wait for me in my bed, aching and clean."
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Listening to Zevran's directive with his head bowed against his shoulder, it was...tempting to simply will himself back to a state of normalcy, or tend to this immediately on his own. Of course there was the third option, keeping himself in a heightened state of arousal and wait for Zevran before finding his release, "I'll...see what I can do, bel homme."
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"Come. I will see you out."
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And so he allowed himself to be seen out, smoothing his hand over Zevran's face once more before relieving himself of temptation, "then I will see you this evening."