Age has little to do with it. Some of the finest practitioners in the world are, quite frankly, elderly- and even if they were not, you are hardly past your prime!
[And, doubtful though Dell may be, Zenyatta can still sense his satisfaction as they shift positions he almost wonders if he should just reattach his hand and continue with a decidedly more innocent session.
Almost.]
Will you roll onto your stomach? [The errant hand holding onto Dell's leg subtly shifts upwards, ready to climb his thigh. As soon as the man is in position Zenyatta kneels behind him, holding one knee and lifting it as a third, hard-light hand- warmer than his steel hands, and decidedly glowier- settles at the base of his spine to hold down his hips.] Comfortable?
[Well, strictly, no. But Zenyatta has always been on the opinion that the vast majority of rules are more or less arbitrary anyway, and what is yoga if not a deeply individual pursuit of physical and spiritual wellbeing?
(with emphasis on the physical.)]
Excellent. And again... [He switches legs again, but this time his freed hand walks its way up the back of Dell's thigh as he holds and stretches- and, while the rest of his hands focus on keeping the man steady no matter how he reacts, it squeezes.]
[And Zenyatta channels the outright laugh he feels tickling his vocaliser into a soft and hopefully sultry little chuckle.]
It is somewhat unorthodox. [The hand squeezes again, just to make a point, then crawls up to Dell's shoulder.] Would you like to sit up now? We can begin wih child's pose.
[Which he demonstrates, seating himself opposite at about an arm's length. As he flattens his remaining hand on his knee he waits for Dell to notice that it is looking decidedly lonely- and cannot help but add, wicked in spite of the sweetness in his voice:] Comfortable?
[Dell feels himself shiver, but quickly moves to sit up.
Oh, yeah. Zenyatta's definitely messing with him now. It doesn't take long to notice that the hand on his shoulder doesn't follow the rest of Zenyatta. He quirks a brow as he moves to copy the omnic's pose.]
... Sure.
[There's a tone of "not really," but it's more playful than genuinely uncomfortable.
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[And, doubtful though Dell may be, Zenyatta can still sense his satisfaction as they shift positions he almost wonders if he should just reattach his hand and continue with a decidedly more innocent session.
Almost.]
Will you roll onto your stomach? [The errant hand holding onto Dell's leg subtly shifts upwards, ready to climb his thigh. As soon as the man is in position Zenyatta kneels behind him, holding one knee and lifting it as a third, hard-light hand- warmer than his steel hands, and decidedly glowier- settles at the base of his spine to hold down his hips.] Comfortable?
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[Dell takes a breath and shifts to move the way Zenyatta guides him, rolling onto his stomach, arms folded out in front of him.
Damn, is yoga usually this touchy? He's got a feeling it's not - but he's hardly complaining.]
Perfectly so.
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(with emphasis on the physical.)]
Excellent. And again... [He switches legs again, but this time his freed hand walks its way up the back of Dell's thigh as he holds and stretches- and, while the rest of his hands focus on keeping the man steady no matter how he reacts, it squeezes.]
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Oh. THAT, he's pretty sure isn't yoga. Dell grunts and lifts his head up from his arms.]
... I wanna take it that ain't a normal yoga thing.
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It is somewhat unorthodox. [The hand squeezes again, just to make a point, then crawls up to Dell's shoulder.] Would you like to sit up now? We can begin wih child's pose.
[Which he demonstrates, seating himself opposite at about an arm's length. As he flattens his remaining hand on his knee he waits for Dell to notice that it is looking decidedly lonely- and cannot help but add, wicked in spite of the sweetness in his voice:] Comfortable?
no subject
Oh, yeah. Zenyatta's definitely messing with him now. It doesn't take long to notice that the hand on his shoulder doesn't follow the rest of Zenyatta. He quirks a brow as he moves to copy the omnic's pose.]
... Sure.
[There's a tone of "not really," but it's more playful than genuinely uncomfortable.
Basically, he knows something's going on now.]
Think you forgot something.