At her direction, Sweeney continues his turn into her just enough to nudge his shoulder against hers. It’s an affectionate acknowledgement, not a dismissive or confrontational bump. He follows his path around Dorian to the bed behind him, slipping the bottle into his pocket.
“Mhm.” The answer to Dorian’s comment is low, an unrealized hum that doesn’t come to full fruition. Sweeney reclaims the knife and rope. He places the blade between his teeth as he lowers to his knees.
Without precursor or warning, he grabs both of Dorian’s wrists. Sweeney’s grip is rough but not crushing, and his skin quite warm. It’s always strange, touching a new person. But he does it without reservation. For her.
Barring too much of a struggle, he yanks them back, briefly holding them together with one large hand while the other grabs the rope. A practiced slip and pull sees his hands bound together; there are some perks to a year spent on various boats. The bonds are secure, but not constricting; there’s no risk of cutting off his circulation.
A quick tug brings the length to where Dorian’s hands can reach his chin, but no lower. Sweeney tucks the tail of rope under his knee, the rest of the length off to the side. He pauses to set the knife within his long arm’s reach, but out of the range of potential squirming.
Deed done, his eyes find Annie’s and his hands move to Dorian’s shoulders, pressing down flat in unison, a good bit of weight pinning him to the floor.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-02-24 06:12 am (UTC)“Mhm.” The answer to Dorian’s comment is low, an unrealized hum that doesn’t come to full fruition. Sweeney reclaims the knife and rope. He places the blade between his teeth as he lowers to his knees.
Without precursor or warning, he grabs both of Dorian’s wrists. Sweeney’s grip is rough but not crushing, and his skin quite warm. It’s always strange, touching a new person. But he does it without reservation. For her.
Barring too much of a struggle, he yanks them back, briefly holding them together with one large hand while the other grabs the rope. A practiced slip and pull sees his hands bound together; there are some perks to a year spent on various boats. The bonds are secure, but not constricting; there’s no risk of cutting off his circulation.
A quick tug brings the length to where Dorian’s hands can reach his chin, but no lower. Sweeney tucks the tail of rope under his knee, the rest of the length off to the side. He pauses to set the knife within his long arm’s reach, but out of the range of potential squirming.
Deed done, his eyes find Annie’s and his hands move to Dorian’s shoulders, pressing down flat in unison, a good bit of weight pinning him to the floor.