brint [@slicexofxtheirxlives] wanted a starter !
his might and ruthless in battle got him the title and position of master of ships, of which he and his family were very proud and glad — and of which brint seemed to really admire him for. and he was never one to turn down worship of any kind; modesty was not one of his virtues. therefore, he enjoyed every second of their weekly training sessions... particularly their ending ritual: a passionate treating to the loser's chest until a blinding climax.
“not a complain by any means, but...” he starts, having won far above half their fights of the day. both of them are covered by a layer of sweat and nearly clothless; his hands are undoing the last piece he's got left on. “i've noticed a lack of vigour in your movements, my prince. if i didn't know any better, well, i'd have to assume you're letting me win.”