[ At the mention of keeping his secrets, Sylvain's eyes fly open again, a hint of startled surprise in amber depths. he licks his lips, looking like he wants to say something, but as he doesn't actually have the words just now, he stays silent instead. It comes out as another moan instead, as Basch keeps working him with his hands, and that soft praise. His hips rock shallowly, pressing into that touch as he chases the friction of it. ]
no subject
If that's what you want. Sir.