He lets out a soft yet audibly frustrated groan when Hythlodaeus parts from him. Though it isn't that far to the bed, the gap feels like an interminable distance. It's cold.

Mindful of his friend's watchful gaze, he pushes down his pants the rest of the way, letting the belt's weight drag it down before stepping out of the legs. The suggestive bulge of his erection is plain to see, especially in the modern underclothes this land (and the previous one) carries. His cheeks grow a little darker as he thumbs the waistband, extremely conscious of how he once decried these performative acts as obscene.

He carefully pulls the briefs down, having to bend to step out of it properly. When he straightens again, his erection hangs stiffly between his thighs, not quite fully turgid but flushed and wanting.