[ Basch doesn't point out that that balance only exists because Sylvain maintains it. If he wanted to push past Basch's preferences, he would not stop it. It eludes him that this is still balance; Sylvain would not do that, and that is why this is happening at all.
A man can only fight so many of his tendencies at once.
And enduring how knowing and -- dare he think it -- sweet Sylvain is takes so much from him. He almost wants to ask the man to be rougher, faster, but it doesn't quite meet his tongue, because this is so good and Sylvain is clearly pleased. If the man wants to watch Basch whimper and squirm, well, the thought makes his hips cant against the other, his grip on his chest and shoulder becoming more needy.
He doesn't know what to say, and so he doesn't, just meeting that kiss with a desperate want he doesn't otherwise betray, a whimpering moan as his arousal starts to tip to need. He tries to hold back, but it's not long before he's rocking against Sylvain's hand, braced against the other man's weight pinning him to the dressing room wall. ]
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A man can only fight so many of his tendencies at once.
And enduring how knowing and -- dare he think it -- sweet Sylvain is takes so much from him. He almost wants to ask the man to be rougher, faster, but it doesn't quite meet his tongue, because this is so good and Sylvain is clearly pleased. If the man wants to watch Basch whimper and squirm, well, the thought makes his hips cant against the other, his grip on his chest and shoulder becoming more needy.
He doesn't know what to say, and so he doesn't, just meeting that kiss with a desperate want he doesn't otherwise betray, a whimpering moan as his arousal starts to tip to need. He tries to hold back, but it's not long before he's rocking against Sylvain's hand, braced against the other man's weight pinning him to the dressing room wall. ]