[ The clear surprise on Sylvain's face makes him chuckle. It hides the discomfort that perhaps he has somehow chosen wrong, been too much too quickly. It is a criticism that has been raised at him many times. All or nothing. Too intense. Too shy. Not normal. ]
Not sure what to make of me, are you?
[ But he's silenced -- and calmed -- by the way Sylvain closes the space between them, kissing with a fervor that feels different than what they've done before. Reassuring, appreciative. Basch's trust means something to him, and that has Basch moaning even before the resumed assault on his nipples.
Sylvain's smile is stunning. Not the grin he gives so easily, but this look of bliss. Basch is so lost in it that he doesn't quite process the other dipping, until there are lips at his thigh. He shudders, balance shifting and the swing rocking lightly, his stomach dropping at the sensation.
He lets Sylvain guide him, shown again and again how considerate and gentle the other is to his comfort. Even so, it's an odd sensation, his legs spread, his knees bound in place, his hands above him. When Sylvain returns to his thigh, the sensation feels increased, and he whimpers. ]
Remarkably, though I think -- I almost regret not being able to touch you back. [ His breath is airy, almost hoarse, but he holds the other's gaze, flushed with want and not embarrassment this time. ] I shall wait my turn.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-01-24 03:06 am (UTC)Not sure what to make of me, are you?
[ But he's silenced -- and calmed -- by the way Sylvain closes the space between them, kissing with a fervor that feels different than what they've done before. Reassuring, appreciative. Basch's trust means something to him, and that has Basch moaning even before the resumed assault on his nipples.
Sylvain's smile is stunning. Not the grin he gives so easily, but this look of bliss. Basch is so lost in it that he doesn't quite process the other dipping, until there are lips at his thigh. He shudders, balance shifting and the swing rocking lightly, his stomach dropping at the sensation.
He lets Sylvain guide him, shown again and again how considerate and gentle the other is to his comfort. Even so, it's an odd sensation, his legs spread, his knees bound in place, his hands above him. When Sylvain returns to his thigh, the sensation feels increased, and he whimpers. ]
Remarkably, though I think -- I almost regret not being able to touch you back. [ His breath is airy, almost hoarse, but he holds the other's gaze, flushed with want and not embarrassment this time. ] I shall wait my turn.