Gaius does not offer him pity for it. He doesn't laugh, either. Instead he shifts closer, closing one hand over Estinien's shoulder and the other leaving his hand, bandaged fingers settling on Estinien's hip. He leans in, breath hot over his neck, before he tries for less gentleness and more firmness: teeth and tongue on the juncture of shoulder and neck.

(Some part of the wolf barks angrily; just take him, he's here, he's agreed, he's lovely to look at. It's been so damned long. But Gaius says no, chaining that part of him in silence and restraint, fingers flexing and tightening briefly over Estinien's skin.)