That only works if you're already deep in it. No way out? Push until you come out the other side. For Sol, he knows that's the answer. Only one. Can't leave this shit halfway. Means too much. God, it means too much. But Ky? It's not his fight, not this part. Ky's not a soldier any more, not a knight. He's a cop. Cop with his own demons to tangle with, so he doesn't need Sol's. While that might have them crossing paths, it doesn't mean Ky needs to put his nose in Sol's business to get his job done.

Sol won't tell him jack. Nothing Ky does can or will change his mind.

He will, however, mark Ky's throat further with bites and sucking bruises alike. There's no real such thing as anyone being a "bad influence" on Sol. He's too old, too set in his ways. At least there. Having Ky, though... There's something intimate about their fights. Something about crawling into each other's heads as they trade blows. It's some bizarre shade of normalcy, expected and sometimes good. The kind of good that creeps into his blood and heats it in a way differently from his magic.

Crawling into each other's skin is very, very different.

Even as Ky slides in closer, Sol pulls him in flush by the ass, grants him opportunity for that friction. But only for a moment, because he brings a heated hand between them to wrap around Ky's cock, thumb against the underside as he gives it a firm stroke--testing, and maybe giving him something back and to encourage.