Tseng went to push his arm down and away from his chest, and the second the washcloth touched the perked and sensitive buds, he went to yank his arm back up again, his breath hitching. Were he not soaked, his tail would have surely become a bottlebrush in that very moment, the mage's ears pinned back firmly against his head.

It was such a minor, insignificant thing, surely far less intimate than allowing Tseng's hands between his legs, and yet. In spite of everything that had happened up until this point... He couldn't quite figure out himself, why this was the line he was drawing in the sand right now, after spending the entire night stuffed full of Tseng's cock, after waking up this morning with a brisk, energetic fucking.

And here he was, trying to keep his hands away from his chest. X'rhun wasn't going to spend a lot of time pondering over his own logic here, the 'why' didn't matter.

"You'll only stain my face and body again before noon." It was impossible to miss the anxiety behind his words, the very real fear in every syllable as he let it all spill out regardless. "Please," now trying to temper that initial venom in his tone, "please, let me wash myself. Grant me just this?"