"Yes it will and if you're not riding fit after we're done I would like that to be because of my ministrations rather than just because you got your ass sunburnt."

He heaves a sigh, "Well, if we must be reasonable about this..." He pulls back to look down at the rope still coiled around his torso and one of his arms, "Help me get untangled?" He asks, sheepish.

"Naturally." He's not going to cut the rope because that'd be needlessly wasting good resources. He's quick about it, though, with the airs of someone who has some amount of practice, and soon enough he's standing up again and offering Mikh a hand.

He takes the help to his feet happily, leaning in to kiss his cheek cheerily before striding off towards their chocobos, tail flicking happily, a bounce in his step. Cami greets him with an equally cheerful kweh! as he approaches, refreshed from the short break in the shade of a tall rock.

Shhim lifts his veil to cover his mouth and nose again and onto his chocobo he gets.

Onwards! Now he has an uncomfortable boner to speed him up, he'd like to get somewhere cosier soon.

Happily, for both their impatience and for the oncoming heat of midday, it's not too far a trip from the creek crossing to Black Brush Station. The growing settlement has lots of shady nooks and crannies, and several taverns with rooms upstairs which they'll surely rent out for a midday 'nap' if they like.

...taverns or shady nooks and crannies.

Honestly, not much of a question. Shhim finds an excuse to draw Mikh to one of the latter and then pulls him in and pushes him against a wall to kiss him.

Mikh is shocked by this, he'd tell you! Shocked!

Somewhat detracting from the sentiment, one of his hands immediately busies itself running down T'shhim's leathers in search of ties, the other sliding over his shoulder and into his hair.

"Quite the step up from rutting in the dirt," he jokes between kisses.

Shhim has pulled his hood and veil down by then and his ears are out and tilted happily. The soft purring in his chest and the light happy swishes of his tail might be another sign of his pleasure.

"A dark out of the way hole in a tiny settlement definitely is that," he agrees with mirth in his voice. "The benefits of maybe getting caught without the drawbacks of the sun."

"I bow before your logic," he says, bowing just the slightest amount permitted by the space between them (and also using the opportunity to get a better look at the ties on his clothes). His own bottoms are in the same style as the ones he'd been wearing the night before, only wrapped properly below the calves to keep them out of chocobo tackle, and the sand out of them. They're a touch easier to deal with than unfamiliar leather traveling gear, but Mikh has faith in his hands. The tip of his tail beats against the wall behind him as he works them open.

They're unfortunately not really designed for being extremely easy to remove. Still, the two of them are motivated enough, and they're not designed to be hard to remove, either. A couple of buttons and buckles deal with the overcoat and then the shirt can be pulled over his head and his trousers are just trousers.

Mikh feels quite smug in that all of his clothes are designed to come off quite easily, in comparison, though admittedly his pants won't come off at all below the knee without a lengthy unwrapping.

He slows down once they get the coat and shirt off, stretching up to bring T'shhim in for more kisses, confident in their ability to get the remaining clothes between the two of them out of the way. One hand busy curiously tracing the lines of his chest, Mikh finally gets the other into T'shhim's trousers, wrapping around the length he finds there and drawing up with a slow, smooth tug.

Given what he was wearing last night he's certain Mikh won't find any surprises there. Now Shhim himself, on the other hand, has had no such pleasure, so he's making sure to pay Mikh a lot of attention to make up for it.

One hand is around Mikh, thumb running light circles on his tip, any the other is quickly unbuckling his belt and pulling his trousers down. He feels like any clothing is too much clothing right now and he kind of wants more of his skin to be touching Mikh's.

Mikh feels similarly! Those parts of him that aren't busy paying more attention to what T'shhim's thumb is doing to his cock, anyway. The sensation makes him mewl, a little, sensitive and all the more eager after the wait.

He is, perhaps, a little bit longer than the average miqo'te, smooth and curving lightly in his palm, a dusting of surprisingly soft golden hairs curling around the base and marching up his belly to thin out just below his navel. In summary, his cock is pretty, much like the rest of him is.

Meanwhile, while Mikh might have caught glimpses through the deliberately revealing skirt T'shhim'd been wearing the night before, it's a little different actually taking it in hand. Considering it, he drags his thumb over the tip of T'shhim's cock and then draws it down, taking in the length and girth of the thing with eager trepidation, and a little wiggle that does interesting things given T'shhim's grip on him, and draws another little noise out of him as a result.

Shhim is shaven smooth, and... substantially longer than the average miqo'te, and a little bit girthier, too. He is not, exactly, a grower in the strictest sense of the word, as he was already visibly well-endowed even soft, but he's definitely grown some there.

The sounds he makes are more of the deep raspy flavour, with the occasional accompanying purr. It's the kind of sound you could properly describe as a groan without sounding forced, the sound one makes when one is struggling with something. In this case, he is struggling not to manhandle Mikh into turning around and bending over immediately, because he's ever heard of pacing. But. The desire is there!

He shivers a bit at Mikh's touch, and thinks this has been way too long to spend without kissing him. The hand that isn't still playing with Mikh's dick reaches up to grab his hair, just behind his right ear, while he presses Mikh against the wall to make sure he has no escape or really nearly any wiggle room. He considers the thought of getting rid of the rest of his clothes but honestly the parts of his brain that take actions like "consider thoughts" are very small and quiet right now, and most of him is taken over by pressing, urgent need.