This time, Urianger takes that note of admonishment with grace. It's fairly evident Thancred isn't looking to chastise him into a lecture right now — although that may come later — and so the least he can do is meet his love half-way and acknowledge that his decisions of late have been somewhat reckless. It feels too good to have him close to risk spoiling the moment, and so he simply lets himself be guided down to the bed so that he can look up at Thancred properly.

"... I concede that, upon occasion, I can be somewhat careless with mine own safety," he agrees, his own smile turning a little bashful around the edges as he reaches up to lay his palms against Thancred's waist. The Hyur isn't a small man by any means (for all he likes to tease him) and yet his hands span wide across him — something which privately brings Urianger no small amount of pleasure. The pads of his thumbs stroke against the tight material of his shirt as he lets his imagination run away with him:

"Thy mouth," he replies almost instantly, the gold of his eyes a thing ring around dark pupils as he thinks to the last time Thancred made a meal of him. Urianger had spent long years frowining in disapproval (and yes, perhaps a little jealousy) each time Thancred had sauntered off to an inn room with a woman on his arm, but these days?

He has to admit, the man put in the work and it's Urianger who's reaping the benefits.

"There are many sensations I can recreate on my own if needs must, but that of thy lips and tongue yet eludes me."

One of those hands slides around to squeeze a handful of Thancred's ass as Urianger looks up through his lashes, his expression sultry and his tone low with want:

"After which, I wish to ride thee until the bed groans, the neighbours complain, all else escapes me but the hymn of thy name."