[ Odin's breath starts coming in a little labored when Jonathan kisses him, and-- fuck, when he strips, Odin can't help but bite his bottom lip and stare. He grins and obediently raises his arms when Jonathan tugs at his shirt, though, helping it come off and tossing it to the floor. He's not sure if Jonathan has an appreciation for this kind of thing, being so far from human, but - Odin's pretty damn ripped, and he's proud of the sharp, defined lines of his muscles, the huge size of his arms and his abs, the pronounced cut of the V in his waist. When he stands and starts slowly tugging the rest of his own clothes off, he takes his time, like he's showing off. This prick and his ego.

The other thing he's proud of is the ridiculous size of his cock. It makes up for his stupid, garbage personality, he thinks. He slides back into bed with Jonathan, already half hard, and plants soft but needy kisses against his throat. ]

Can you, uh...

Can you feel-- does it feel the same? In your skin suit? Like-- if we do things like this-- you're gonna have fun, right? Is that-- shit. Is that offensive? Am I being offensive? I'm probably being a super offensive, stupid dude.