Ursalo's smile turned all the more wicked as Jera conceded the point, breathless and so wanting but seeing the logic in the argument. There was something to be said about resisting temptation, about forcing the both of them to wait until after dinner was cooked and eaten. The anticipation made everything seem sweeter and warmer, as if time had turned into slow dripping honey and they were drowning in it.<br/><br/>They worked quietly, preparing their separate meals, staying exactly as they were and moving no closer. It was torture of the worst kind, but it became all the more worse when their hands were eventually free, done with their tasks with nothing more to do but wait for the meat to cook.<br/><br/>It seemed the elf decided that if he could not use his hands to caress Ursalo's body then he would use his eyes instead, and damn him but it might as well have been the same thing. Ursalo could feel the ghostly memories of Jera's touch with every long, lingering look.<br/><br/>Burning eyes wandered down the line of Ursalo's throat and he remembered how Jera had traced that same path with his fingers, how the callouses had scraped so deliciously against the scales. Burning eyes settled on his chest so heavily that Ursalo could practically feel the weight of Jera's hands pressing him down to the floor, pinning him but only because he allowed it. Burning eyes focused on his lips and he remembered the stinging, yearning ache of Jera trying to kiss him, how the elf turned his head to Ursalo's mouth and the demon had to force himself to pull away, again and again.<br/><br/>He had wanted to then, but could not. He wanted it now, worse than ever he wanted to kiss Jera, and still could not. Even if he could.<br/><br/>By the time the food was ready, Ursalo was all but vibrating with restraint, so concentrated on keeping his hands to himself that he nearly gasped when Jera moved towards him. He did not touch Ursalo, but he did something surprising but equally as pleasurable.<br/><br/>He was offering to feed Ursalo's snakes.<br/><br/>Ursalo almost moaned aloud, so attracted to the elf in that moment that he could have tackled him to the ground and mounted him, dinner be damned. But Ursalo had started this game, and he aimed to win it.<br/><br/>"By all means," Ursalo purred, and all but slithered himself closer so his darling could reach.<br/><br/>The lot had become lethargic by the warmth of the fire, but two were slightly more food motivated than the others. They reared up slowly, heads turning and tongues flickering. This close, Jera might spy that there were minute variations between them, the color of their eyes were slightly different and one had the tiniest speck of white on his chin, while the other had a small scar behind the left eye.<br/><br/>"Gently," Ursalo murmured softly, not to Jera but to his darlings. They forget themselves, sometimes.<br/><br/>The one with the scar reached out first and carefully opened its jaw, allowing Jera to place the meat inside its wide mouth.