Noctisardor Bypass i led the revolution in my bedroom, and i set all the zippers free

Even without the admittedly strong influence of frustrated, lonely lustfulness, Alarian found himself admiring Samothes' form, his features. His lover was beautifully crafted, even if he seemed a rather slippery thing. He made no move to clasp his (metaphorical, unfortunately) hands 'round this particular butterfly, suspecting the misty-furred wolf would flit away the moment he sensed it. He watched him stretch with dark eyes, the action sending a faint stir through him despite feeling entirely spent.
Samothes' first teasing statement drew a faint, crooked smile from him. It faded with his next words. Fire flashed behind Alarian's eyes, hot and scathing for a few beats. Pet. A shiver traveled down his spine, the stirring more than faint now, and he bristled almost imperceptibly. He was not anyone's pet—
But he hadn't meant it that way, surely. He calmed himself quickly, the flame flickering and then dying entirely; it gave way to exhaustion once again.
Am I? He murmured, lowering his head to rest it on his paws with eyes still fixed on his lover. There was curiosity in his gaze now, a hint of expectancy; he knew he was strange, but truthfully, Samothes had seen barely a fraction— he wondered at the reasoning, at the tone of the observation, and at the repetition of the sentiment.