Gilmore wasn't so used to having those curves and the softness beneath his hands, but there were no complaints about their chosen body. It was a beautiful thing, incomparable to the firmer, masculine shapes he was more familiar with. Different but to be adored in the same manner.
He hummed quietly as he was pulled closer, settled between J'mon's legs, blood still warm, skin still tingling. There was still part of him that couldn't comprehend that his future lay with them. That for all their power, for all the treasures they held (and stories told of so many wonders) they wished to keep him close.
Gilmore also intended very much to live far beyond his normal mortal years. It wasn't unheard of for mages, sorcerers, wizards even. And though it would sound like a bold statement from anyone else, he genuinely believed that J'mon would fight death.
Bereft as he was by the movement, Gilmore knelt back to let them get comfortable, his hands remaining on their thighs because losing contact was unthinkable. Then he followed, going with their guiding hands to rest on top of them once more, between their legs he was glad to have wrapped around him. And without the chains Gilmore had no fear of accidentally hurting them, which was good.
"How do I react, the first time I see you in your true form?" he asked, pressing his lips softly to J'mon's throat. "And when I see your home for the first time? Tell me how breathless you leave me?" He could imagine it, but there was no doubt his imagination didn't do it justice. "I hope I have ways to assist you. I hope I am useful to you, and not just something pretty you keep around for sentiment. I want to be worthy of your time and attention. I want to show you everything I am capable of, and be a better man for trying. I want you to push me to my limits and make me more powerful, make me deserving." Gilmore's lips dragged back along J'mon's jaw, kissing the corner of their mouth.