[ Dorian closes his eyes at that first touch to his back, the sweep of Bull's hand, concentrating on staying still, and breathing at some sort normal pace. Then the rope, and he does watch, there, only flexing just a little beneath it once he can feel the tug of the knot securing itself.
And then his wrists are caught, guided into place.
His fingers fan out, lax, and curl back in at a musical kind of fold. Bull isn't asking him -- and he doesn't need to ask -- but it's signal enough were he to look for it. A slight release of tension, which he anticipates will be swift to build itself back up.
Bull handles him gently and easily, and Dorian is inclined to allow it rather than act out -- only testing knots once they've fixed in place, in the name of practicality as well as desire to feel them. ]
no subject
And then his wrists are caught, guided into place.
His fingers fan out, lax, and curl back in at a musical kind of fold. Bull isn't asking him -- and he doesn't need to ask -- but it's signal enough were he to look for it. A slight release of tension, which he anticipates will be swift to build itself back up.
Bull handles him gently and easily, and Dorian is inclined to allow it rather than act out -- only testing knots once they've fixed in place, in the name of practicality as well as desire to feel them. ]