[Zenyatta's back slams hard against the door. In the next moment there are hands scrabbling at his hips; there's the sound of fabric straining, metal scuffing metal, and before he knows it his pants are around his ankles.]
Jamie- hold on a moment-- [His voice skips a beat. He's already trying to grab Jamie's shoulders, hands, anything, just to get him to slow down.]
[That, in fact, is what snags on Zenyatta's attention the most; until now he has seemed, for the most part, to be- well- a sex object, there entirely for Jamie's gratification.
This, though... still recovering, he manages a light, almost (but not quite) adoring laugh.]
In that case... please. [He spreads his palms, guiding them down his body as if in display.] Be my guest.
[the real question is will he figure out the modesty panel]
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Jamie- hold on a moment-- [His voice skips a beat. He's already trying to grab Jamie's shoulders, hands, anything, just to get him to slow down.]
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What?!
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You are quite alright? Not hurt, or angry with me?
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... he doesn't even realize that that particular train of thought implies his belief in Zenyatta's sentience.
He rolls his eyes, grumbling.]
I'm fine! How the hell would you've-- no, no no no, just forget it, awright? I'm fine! Now can we get this show on the road or what?
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This, though... still recovering, he manages a light, almost (but not quite) adoring laugh.]
In that case... please. [He spreads his palms, guiding them down his body as if in display.] Be my guest.
[the real question is will he figure out the modesty panel]