Cyril takes a moment to enjoy watching Zevran undress before he joins in taking off his own clothing. As he pulls off his shirt, he considers the suggestion. He saves the whole 'the language isn't Dalish it's Elvhen and therefore your language too' conversation for someone who actually cares to force all elves to think the same.
"Fenor would be close to what you're saying. It means 'someone precious'." Then, after a moment, he adds. "Ara haurasha would work too."
"And do you find me to be someone precious?" He snorts a laugh, derisive. He is many things, skilled, beautiful, desirable- but precious? Hardly. He slips into the water and extends a hand to Cyril. "What does this 'Aara Haurasha' mean, mm?"
Cyril doesn't answer right away. He comes closer to Zevran and puts his hands on his hips. He enjoys just touching him for now, and the way that his own body responds being so close to Zevran. "It means that the thought of you makes my cock hard," he says finally before leaning in a bit to kiss Zevran. The kiss is gentle for now, a small sign of affection.
Now that is an endearment he can get behind- straightforward and without sentiment. He crackles a soft laugh, leaning into the kiss, his hands skimming along Cyril's sides in a long drag from hip to shoulder. He truly must ask what he uses to moisturize, he's never been able to render his scars so soft. But this? Having him here, having him close, is distraction enough.
Cyril adores the sound of that laugh. He wants to make Zevran sound like that more often. He has this proud little smirk on his face when he pulls back to look at Zevran.
"Ironically, though, Fenor is easier to scream out when you come."
"So is 'Zevran', but you do not hear me complaining." He tugs Cyril close, tugging one of his hands up to press a kiss to the skin of his wrist, nipping at the flutter of his pulse there. "You know, an orgasm is an excellent way to loosen the muscles before a massage. It is better than a good soak some say."
"You are right on both points," Cyril replies. He feels his breath catch a bit at the nip. "I've certainly enjoyed moaning you're name. We needn't stop a good thing."
"If you feel particularly inspired, I won't stop you." It's almost easy to pull Cy close, to heft him up in his arms. Even without the water it isn't that difficult to cart him over to the nearest ledge and set him there. His lips make a slow trail from the side of Cy's neck to the center of his chest, dragging down with little blooming love bites.
Cyril doesn't protest being picked up. If anything, he fully enjoys it. He steadies himself on the ledge. He moves his arms behind him to support himself and to give Zevran more of his skin to work him. He hums happily at the attention, enjoying the little nibbles. "Mm, Zevran," he moans.
"See? Sounds just as well as it is. But I am curious how the others would sound." Or anything that springs to mind. He nudges Cy's thighs apart, licking the skin under his navel, deft fingers curled around the base of his cock. He takes his time stroking Cy into full hardness, watching him through every shiver and sigh.
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"Fenor would be close to what you're saying. It means 'someone precious'." Then, after a moment, he adds. "Ara haurasha would work too."
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It sounded weighty and complicated.
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"Ironically, though, Fenor is easier to scream out when you come."
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