Inbox: Abraxas

[philancer]

INBOX text / action / horizon Roses are red, violets are blue,
and right now it seems I'm missing you.
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[godshattering]

Do you have Teach fantasies I should be worried about?

[ Volleying that one right back even if he's laughing too much to make it sound entirely serious. It's more rhetorical than anything considering there is no Teach here anywhere - not that Claude wants to tempt fate on that one like he might with anything else.

And not that he wants to be thinking about Teach right now either, so he props himself up on his elbows for his own survey of their options. There's not many given the consideration of the angle(s) involved, but they aren't entirely bereft of them. ]

Well. Aside from the desk if you can get over your fantasy fears, there's that if you want a view to go with it. [ With a point towards a dresser with a mirror that'll provide said view, and then with another point towards the set of double doors leading to the outside and a sizable smirk to go with it - ] Or there's the balcony railing if you feel like getting us kicked out of here, but that one might actually put an end to the night.

[philancer]

Let's not risk plummeting to our deaths in a sex mishap on our first date, yeah? That's a little much, even for me.

[ He's conveniently not going to say a word about any Teach-related fantasies. Because honestly, he's pretty sure if even a single student in any of their Houses claimed not to have at least one of those, he'd call every single one of them a liar.

But he does give the mirrored dresser a speculative look, because that could be fun... ] Hmm, well, as long as it's not likely to give you a complex...

[ It's said teasingly, but he does push back off the bed to his feet once more and then hold out a hand to Claude with a smirk. ]

[godshattering]

I dunno, Sylvain. That might be just the sort of thing to make it even more memorable.

[ Well - minus the death part which Claude's assuming was hyperbole which is all the more reason to tease about it. And does he notice he put the qualifier in front of memorable in a slip to make it clear he was already considering it as much as he takes Sylvain's hand? Not really. ]

Wait, almost forgot something important. [ One brief lean back across the bed to retrieve the oil where he'd dropped it before they'd been otherwise occupied before holding it up with a quick waggle of it between a couple fingers. ] It'll be a little difficult to get started on your long held fantasy without it.

[ Meaning the desk, of course, and that's where Claude heads next - but not without taking his time on the way considering also much earlier in the night Sylvain wanted to enjoy such a view. Once at his destination he turns back around to face the other, leaning against it with his palms against its surface with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. ]

[philancer]

[ Sylvain's never wished for Ignatz's skill with a paintbrush more than when he watches Claude lean back against that desk in nothing but those boots and a smirk. At least he has a very good memory.

He follows, drawn like a plucked tether, dark, hungry eyes taking in the sight of him like a man starving. It completely derails whatever he'd thought of retorting back - impressive, really - in favor of hemming him in against the edge of the desk, hands pressed to either side of him as he leans in to capture Claude's lips again in a rough, demanding kiss. But he can't not touch, which ends up with one hand sliding up to wind its way into Claude's hair again, fingers tangling and then gripping, angling him just right so he can deepen the kiss.

Apparently his impatience wasn't all the way sated after all. ]

[godshattering]

[ Something in how Sylvain eyes him for a second makes it very, very difficult to not feel immensely smug. As the other man approaches wordlessly Claude merely watches from beneath his lashes, smirk still present as strong arms find the desk next to him with the intent of keep him there and lasts right up until Sylvain's mouth finds his.

A pleased noise leaves him to sink straight into the intensity of that kiss as he meets it, and Claude's hands are the first to leave the desk with one hand coming to rest on a shoulder and the other on a bicep. A silly move since not one second later he's already contemplating shifting to pull him closer, but Sylvain beats him to it with that hand in his hair that generates a surprised inhale from him as the kiss deepens.

There is, just for an instant, the feeling of falling. Not in the physical sense as he's anchored in place, but something else. Something he doesn't want to put a name to like that'll keep it invisible and never to be seen again, something he feels anyway as his grasp on the other's shoulder tightens. Want is a powerful thing, and more so if one surrenders to it.

But Claude will always try to claw back control whenever there's the slightest opportunity for him to, and so even though it requires straining a bit against Sylvain's grasp in his hair - not that he's protesting that either when it pulls enough to send a small shiver of enjoyment through him - he leans back and catches Sylvain's bottom lip in his teeth with only enough pressure to catch his attention before releasing it. ]

Fuck me already.

[philancer]

[ Sylvain had felt the swoop in his own stomach during that approach - and again, when Claude makes that pleased little noise against his lips. It only urges him to deepen the kiss further, determined to lose himself and the reality of that in the heat of the moment instead. One leg slips between Claude's thighs, pinning him back against the edge of the desk while he relishes the way his grip tightens in response.

He feels that little shiver when Claude strains against the fingers in his hair - something he recognizes because he knows just how that feels. Enjoys how easy it comes to read Claude like this, when he's normally such a struggle. A mystery. He's not sure if that's because he's so much more accustomed to picking up on subtle nuances like this or if Claude is actually being more open and honest in his reactions here than he normally allows himself. Sylvain's not complaining either way.

That nip to his lip has them curving into a smirk as he grinds his thigh up against Claude's cock where it's caught between them now, nipping at the man's lips in return. ]

Mmm. Yes, that was the plan, wasn't it? Stop being so distracting and we'll get there.

[ Even if he's pretty sure that's an impossibility at this point.

But he does pull back, enough to slide his hands down Claude's torso to his hips, and then not-so-gently manhandle him into turning around to face the desk. His hands guide Claude's to the far edge, the piece of furniture just wide enough to make them both bend at the waist over the surface to reach and he nudges Claude's legs a little wider, into the stance he wants. ]

Don't move. [ The words are murmured against the curve of Claude's ear before teeth nip at the lobe and then Sylvain withdraws, sliding back around behind him, out of his line of sight - but most definitely retrieving the bottle of oil on his way. ]

[godshattering]

[ There's barely enough time to react to Sylvain's leg slotting between his, the all too brief tease to his cock, teeth on his own mouth. What the other gets is something between an exhale and a laugh. Claude doesn't think he has to say aloud that being distracting is his favorite game for Sylvain to have already learned this several times over.

A shiver runs through him again, this time one of enjoyment and anticipation since none of that was a no. Another game: testing something which seems too good to be true just in case it is, even despite the entirety of the night before them and with what's still to come. The smirk will be lost on anyone else this time when he's spun around to face the desk and lets Sylvain maneuver him to be right where he wants him with no resistance, too pleased by all of it as he's leaned over the desk as requested.

But. Don't move is a specific instruction, it's true, and it's also an entirely different one than don't talk. ]

Or else what?

[ He's going to pair that with a look back over his shoulder all because he can just to flirt with where the line's drawn on the amount of moving when he's obediently keeping his hands where Sylvain placed them in the meantime. Surely that counts for something. Because of course Claude wasn't going to not be difficult at some point after all that compliance, and because he doesn't think it's unexpected by now. ]

Don't tell me you'd take away this desk's secret dream of being defiled by both of us after all this buildup.

[philancer]

[ He wouldn't dream of telling Claude not to talk. At least not during sex. He's already enjoying what he can make spill from the man's lips in the heat of the moment - coherent or otherwise.

Still, he's not at all surprised when Claude's first response to that order is to immediately do the opposite of it. He'd pretty much expected that. Although he does give the man's ass a playful, chiding smack, the sound of it echoing louder in the room than the light force he'd barely put into it. ]

Mmm. No. But I might start dragging out giving you want even longer, each time you do anything else. And that would drastically cut into the time we have available to get to the rest of those items on the list.

[ He spills some of the oil into his palm, heating it against his skin before reaching down to slide his hand down over the curve of Claude's ass, parting flesh and then purposefully circling that tight ring of muscle with a questing fingertip. Not pressing into him at all just yet. He leans over his back, sucking redness into the back of one of Claude's shoulder, his smirk curved against the warm flesh. ]

If you continue to be difficult, we could just stay right here the rest of the night, but you were the one getting impatient a moment ago.

[godshattering]

[ One scoff - not a displeased one - immediately leaves his lips at the smack to his ass, and it's immediately followed by a louder one at the suggestion he's responsible for any slowness here. That's all Sylvain gets at first when he needs a second to formulate a better response.

There's a fine line to walk where he has to weigh that out carefully without too long of a pause, what with the ever present desire to be mouthy in response to anything vaguely phrased like a challenge and then actually making it one which could backfire. Backfire only in terms of taking too long since while stoking the flames of anticipation is one thing - impatience is another quick to override it as Sylvain draws things out intentionally and Claude grits his teeth temporarily to prevent any noise from escaping before he's picked a card to play. Two can certainly play this game. ]

We could, but I don't think you'll do that.

[ Confident, even as a familiar mouth presses into his shoulder with an expression he can feel without being able to see it. It's also said as eagerness has him leaning back against Sylvain's fingers when he's not going to pretend that isn't enjoyable despite preferring the one teasing him the most ventures farther. ]

Because I think you've pictured this too many times to stay only like this, especially when it doesn't earn you me calling out your name and knowing you caused it.

[philancer]

[ He can feel that lean, and even though it isn't actually a movement, he makes sure not to let his fingers press inside, just to make his point.

Claude's words - intentional challenge or not - get a low, husky chuckle from him and a moment later teeth bite down lightly on the curve of Claude's shoulder in chiding. ]

My, you really don't think much of my skills, do you? [ That smirk lingers, audible in his voice, as his finger deliberately makes another slow circle, coating the skin with slick oil. ] You don't think I couldn't have you doing that anyway? There's certainly no one else here that's going to make you scream their name tonight.

[godshattering]

I think I just complimented them, actually.

[ There might've been the slightest hitch in his breath at the chuckle, then the tone, and then the bite, or maybe (definitely) both. Also Sylvain's fingers which aren't doing nearly enough; the whole point as he's well aware, which is exactly why rather than reacting Claude's just going to hum as if he's been presented something interesting to turn over in his mind. Which - what about finding the right way to nudge Sylvain into what he wants isn't a puzzle waiting to be solved? And an enjoyable one at that. ]

Much as I can do sight unseen, anyway, since you've yet to demonstrate these ones in particular. [ Just to emphasize that, Claude taps his fingers against where he's still holding onto the desk all in a further convenient way to test out the limits of don't move. ] But it's good to know you're not denying picturing it.

[philancer]

Why would I bother? [ Another sharp nip in chiding at the tap of those fingers, although he’s honestly more amused by Claude’s continued attempts of pushing the limits rather than annoyed. Clearly now he’s just giving him too much time to think and scheme.

He leans forward just enough to murmur in his ear again. ] I think we both know by now that the answer is ‘a lot’ and I don’t mind admitting it, either.

[ Before Claude can get an immediate retort out to that, however, he presses slick fingers inside of him, a pair instead of single digits, working them into him with a rough sort of care - keeping it intense without crossing into too much. It’s always a careful line to straddle, but he thinks he’s getting an idea of where that falls for Claude, in what they’ve done together so far. What has driven him silent, or makes his breath hitch, his body react. Or even draws some of those delicious sounds from his lips. Which he definitely intends to hear more of.

He works his fingers into the tight clench of muscle, working Claude open around them as he stretches him, the oil easing the way just enough, but he doesn’t let up on the stimulation as he does so. And if his fingertips quest for that sensitive bundle of nerves as he works him open, all the better for getting him exactly what he wants. ]

[godshattering]

[ Sylvain's not wrong that they both know it, but admissions are always more fun. That he gets one puts a smirk back onto his face since it feels like a prize to hear it be said aloud and one he's absolutely going to wave around as such.

He's already in the process of opening his mouth for some obnoxious comment yet to be determined, but all that means is that when Sylvain finally slides fingers into him there's no disguising the barely choked off curse that escapes him. That's more from the satisfaction of finally getting (mostly) what he wanted as that careful line between rough and just enough is toed in exactly the way he likes without even needing to ask for it.

No finger tapping is happening now with his hands gripped around the edge of the desk, and though the temptation's certainly there to let go of it to dig his fingers into whatever part of Sylvain he can reach, he's not yet so far lost in the sensations to not know that would cause Sylvain to stop. And that is the last thing he wants - not with each pass of those fingers drawing small pleased noises out of him with the promise of more. Instead Claude settles ("settles") for leaning back again to encourage them deeper and towards the angle being sought as a small clue. ]

I've always found reality to be-- gods- [ Maybe the clue wasn't needed after all when fingers brush somewhere sensitive and it derails his thoughts for a solid few seconds, but - ] better than imagination alone. Maybe I should focus on making sure what you imagine later is very vivid.

[philancer]

[ He smiles at the choked sound of that curse, of the aborted retort interrupted halfway through. It's a high compliment of its own sort, his own version of a prize he'll be just as smug about later. But for now, he's all too focused on repeating it, maintaining that level of stimulation amidst the process of stretching tight muscles. And before Claude can adjust, giving him no time to catch his breath, he adds a third finger the moment it feels like the other man can take it. Still maintaining that intense edge of almost too much without ever crossing it.

It had been a game he enjoyed playing, once upon a time. Part of the reputation he'd so well-earned. Not for everyone, of course, but it had given him something to enjoy between the gold diggers and those chasing him for power and ambition. Or the ones just wanting to test his reputations for themselves. They'd all had their reasons. Very few of them just had much to do with him, however.

This is a much better way to put that knowledge and experience to use, he thinks with a smirk, purposefully brushing his fingertips over that spot again. And again. Wanting Claude far closer to desperate and begging before he gives him what he actually wants.

He chuckles against Claude's ear, nipping at the lobe before shifting slightly to trail sharp kisses down his exposed throat. Leaving reddening marks in his wake. ]

Oh, that's not going to be a problem, I assure you.

[godshattering]

[ Sylvain is trying to kill him, he decides. More importantly, the carefully drawn out intensity and enjoying every last second of it even as he wants to ask for more certainly isn't a bad way to go. It's absolutely better than being taunted with the idea of fingers rather than actually with them, including when another's added and he has to hang onto the desk again, and it's definitely an excellent preface for what's to come. Hopefully. And - having just played this game with Sylvain on the opposite side of it - Claude knows where it's headed.

There's still the urge to hold onto some semblance of control even as Sylvain's eroding it little by little, each movement drawing the sounds from him he knows the other wants even if there could still be others, but he's still reserving those while he can. The fingers resolutely working him open, the laugh in his ear, the kisses down his throat that have him swallowing hard and not even caring how noticeable it is: Sylvain's definitely trying to kill him. ]

That makes two of us, then. [ It's an awful retort, but he can't even care when yet another brush of those fingers earns Sylvain another (very) poorly stifled moan as he finally has to lean down to rest his forehead on one arm for a moment. Totally only a moment. ] I didn't know you were planning on letting your fingers fulfill your fantasy for you, though.

[ There's a please in there somewhere given it's far from nonchalant like it could've been minutes ago. Claude can't even attempt to sound anything other than breathless since catching it isn't going to happen any time soon - not that he wants to with leaning back to take Sylvain's fingers again in a silent request for more. ]

[philancer]

Mmm. It could be my fingers. Or my tongue. Definitely something I'm going to have to try someday, considering all the noises you're making already. I'll add it to our list, shall I?

[ That breathless tone is exactly the one he's been looking for, in fact. Claude's still a little too coherent for his tastes, but he'd expect nothing less of the other man. It hadn't been hard to pick up that Claude hoarded his control as tightly as Sylvain did himself.

He's trying very hard not to read into it too much, that not only had he trusted Claude enough to let go of his... but also that the other man apparently could do the same.

But he didn't want to distract himself with too much thinking either, not now, not when he was going to need every ounce of focus he could muster. So while he's stroking three fingers into one last deep thrust to make sure Claude is ready for him, he uses his other hand to carefully - and maybe a bit precariously - drip some more oil into his palm and slick up his own cock, already hard again from anticipation alone. ]

Mmm, I wonder how long it would take to make you beg with just my tongue here instead? But don't worry, I know how greedy you are tonight. Can't have all that impatience returning, after all. [ Even if he's pretty sure that's inevitable. Or maybe already too late, in his case.

He does slip his fingers out then, but he doesn't give Claude a chance even now to catch his breath or gather his thoughts for more than a heartbeat or two. Instead, his hand slides up the man's spine until he can tangle fingers in his hair once more, tugging his head back at an angle and holding him there as he slides in between Claude's stretched legs. He leans over his back again, warm breath teasing against the curve of his ear. ]

Although I'll be nice and remind you not to move. At least until I give you permission. Since I'm sure you can still remember the consequences, yes?

[ He doesn't give him a chance to answer. Intended only to distract him with that, as he barely gets the words out before he starts pressing pass that tight ring of muscle, his slicked cock aching at how tight it is, despite the stretching he'd done. He's pretty sure it had been enough, but he has a moment of concern that this might be a little too rough for Claude, even as he thrusts into him. ]

[godshattering]

Greedy? That's--

[ - not a thought Claude's going to get to finish, ready as he was to lodge it as a complaint both against what's said and for the loss of Sylvain's fingers after that last deep press had driven yet another noise from him. But the other has different plans than ones he's been teased with, and it doesn't take long for them to be revealed between Sylvain shifting behind him, the hand traveling up his back, and the words in his ear.

There's another second where he could've started to say something else, but if those fingers withdrawing had left a void it's quickly filled by Sylvain's cock. Whatever syllable it was melts into a curse, one purely of pleasure from that ache of something on the right side of rough. An instant goes by where he actually considers begging even if it'd been suggested to (somewhat) rile him up. In the end he settles for clenching around Sylvain to tighten around him more than he had thanks to that thrust and relishing every sensation of it.

It's closer - ever closer - to what he wants but still not enough as Claude's quickly learned Sylvain is a master of incrementally giving that to him. Each motion deliberate, each one meant to test his patience even as he stubbornly won't give in on some things. But then again, neither will Sylvain and even if he's more breathless than before, it won't keep him from pulling against that grasp on his hair again to enjoy it even further. Much as he'd rather run them along Sylvain's skin, he'll settle for digging his nails into what he can of the desk even if it's not nearly as satisfying considering there's only so much to grip.

But - consequences. The very word has him wetting his lips as he summons up composure to continue pushing back verbally in lieu of doing so physically. This time anyway as he finally listens to not moving while still insistent upon more; it's also not lost on him Sylvain seems to be enjoying that as much as he is. ]

If you don't want me to move, then you'd better pin me down while fucking me into this desk.

[philancer]

[ A breathless chuckle teases against Claude's ear as those fingers in his hair tighten, hold his head at just the right angle for him - and for Claude to strain against, because he hasn't missed the way the other man is relishing the feel of the restraint. It eases his concerns - for the moment, at least - about being too rough with him, or crossing a line they hadn't actually discussed before starting this.

But Sylvain's always been good for thinking on his feet, adjusting as the situation revealed itself. And this seems to be no exception. For all the difficulty he often has reading Claude's thoughts or emotions, in this, his language is clear as day and Sylvain already feels fluent in it. ]

That can certainly be arranged.

[ Which is what has his free hand sliding up one of Claude's arms to grasp his wrist in a tight hold. He times his next deep thrust just right, rocking Claude forward against the desk with the force of it, even as he maneuvers that arm behind Claude's back, pressing him down against the top of the desk and - between the hold on his wrist and the firm grip in his hair - pins him in place. Not giving him a chance to resist or struggle, he gives another deep rock of his hips instead, shifting the angle somewhat to accommodate the new position better. ]

Better?

[ The smug note in his voice - despite the strain in it, because he can feel the way Claude has clenched tighter around him in response, can feel the reactions to what he'd done shudder through the other man's body - hints that he already knows the answer to that question. ]

[godshattering]

[ Of course, half the fun is waiting to see how he'll get pinned down when Sylvain's hand running along his arm is a good indicator it's going to happen. There's the obvious, which would simply be using that hand to keep his arm pressed against the desk itself.

He doesn't have long to wonder when one thrust sends him forward, the barest brush of nerves which would've sent him leaning further over if not for Sylvain taking care of that for him. By the time his arm is behind his back it's already in place. There's the barest twitch of one shoulder to test the grip as a force of habit. It isn't the sort of thing he'd normally allow for anyone else - that being something without a way to escape easily - but from Sylvain he finds he doesn't mind it. There's something to that, something about a level of trust not gained by many, and something that will eventually demand notice.

Fortunately for Claude, even if he'd wanted to pursue thinking it over right then, the next rock of Sylvain's hips turns his mind into nothing but white noise when that angle is finally just right. If it'd been enjoyable before, it's nothing compared to the familiar pleasure sparking through him that comes with the desire for more.

Hearing the question that's not a question in his ear pulls him right back to reality where sense still awaits him. ]

I don't think I have to tell you that. [ There's a faint laugh in his voice even if it's more breathless than before and said with more fondness behind it than he's even thinking about. Even if that alone is as good as saying yes, it's not like it's going to stop there as with what little leverage he has left he uses to press back against Sylvain as if it'll pull him any deeper. ] But if you're asking if it could still be better yet...

[philancer]

So greedy.

[ The comment is laughed against his ear again as he rocks into him once more, aiming for exactly that spot that had gotten him that delicious reaction. He still holds Claude in place, keeping him exactly where he wants him, knowing it will only emphasize the sensations he sends through him.

There was something that made everything more intense, when you trusted someone enough to let yourself be vulnerable like this. And he was a little surprised Claude was trusting him this far at all. It's a humbling thought, but one he intends to use to his advantage all the same - even if that's just to drive Claude half out of his mind with some of the (hopefully) best sex of his life.

He picks up the pace now that he has Claude pinned in place, leaving him with no choice but to just feel, intent on overwhelming every one of his senses as he sends pleasure relentlessly along his nerves. He keeps the pace quick and deep and still skirting that same edge of rough that Claude seemed to enjoy as much as he did. He soaks up every noise, every twitch, every clench of muscles tight around his own aching cock. Letting each reaction guide him as he learned everything Claude liked through reactions alone. And then doubling down on giving him everything he craved without ever being asked for it. ]

[godshattering]

[ At this point, greedy's starting to feel a little more fitting to where Claude can admit it. To himself. Only in a very circuitous thought as it is since if it means getting to enjoy more of Sylvain's considerable skills, he's certainly not going to decline the opportunity.

The pace set is finally what he wanted and one more piece of whatever resistance he'd put up in the name of keeping control crumbles. Sylvain gets rewarded with pleased cries interspersed with his name for each of those thrusts when they start to build one on top of the other unrelentingly in a way he'd never ask to cease.

There's the passing thought, this one more coherent than the others which are definitely not, that Sylvain's entirely too good at this. It's not until one particularly deep thrust gets a gasp when it's all he can manage when actual sound feels too difficult and then it's immediately repeated and then repeated again in a way that's no coincidence he realizes what careful attention is being paid to everything. That it's not merely either of them chasing pleasure out of this with no regard for anything else.

The next time Sylvain's cock drags over those nerves it drives the air out of him, and with it any will to keep holding onto the desk with his one remaining free hand. It's tempting to find a space - somehow - where he could slide it to take his own cock in hand without Sylvain magically not noticing that. Though he's aching for the touch, instead Claude reaches back blindly and (after one near miss) winds his fingers into the other's hair and pulls with a moan of harder. ]

[philancer]

[ That tug in his hair gets a strained moan from Sylvain as eyes slide shut, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. He shudders, pace faltering before picking up again as he drags his focus back.

Turning his head, he nips sharply at Claude's earlobe, letting his teeth sink in to the fleshy curve in chiding. ] If this didn't feel so damned good, I'd be reminding you of those consequences right about now.

[ Except he had no intention of stopping anytime soon, not even for that. ]

Eh, fuck it, I'll punish you for it later.

[ That smirk is back in his voice as he picks up the pace, fucking into Claude harder, faster, deeper. Compounding the stimulation and pleasure, even as his breathing starts to become more ragged and broken, his own body shuddering from the blissfully tight friction, at how good Claude feels around him and how much he wants to let go and chase his own pleasure. But he won't. Not yet. He has other goals first.

And he wants to hear Claude beg him for more.

He gives another sharp nip to his earlobe between one deep thrust and the next. ] Also you forgot to say please.

[godshattering]

[ The idea of punishing might've gotten an all too smug laugh from him if it wasn't for once more getting what he wants and Sylvain exponentially increases everything. Maybe there would've been a retort about this being punishment enough even if it's the exact opposite, and he's all too aware of what Sylvain's doing.

Claude can't bring himself to care when yet another thrust has him arching as much as he can in what limited space there is left for him. The same goes for flexing the arm in Sylvain's grasp, something they both know is useless even if it's something else to enjoy as much as the hand in his own hair.

The second nip gets his attention much more than the first, but not as much as every shudder from Sylvain and each breath getting raspier as they continue to push the intensity between them ever higher. Which is enough for what few braincells he has left to come up with an idea, one far more along the lines of being ornery in a way this night has taught him Sylvain enjoys several times over.

But - it's not worth it backfiring, not when every rock of hips drags him closer to the edge and there's every much of a chance of stopping even if Sylvain already abandoned those consequences. That has him clenching around the other's cock again in a very minor teasing revenge (that also benefits him). ]

Please, [ with a good yank of red hair to punctuate it in hopes of earning another moan before the next thrust has him letting go for a second before doubling down on another grasp, ] fuck me harder and get louder and I'll make sure the entire inn knows who made me come.

[philancer]

[ His grip tightens slightly around Claude's wrist when he feels that flex, bracing just in case Claude does intend to struggle. His attention is diverted momentarily, focusing laser sharp to check in with the other reactions he gets from the other man to make sure he's still okay. But when it's clear it's not an actual effort to free himself, Sylvain relaxes again.

That clench around him drags free a strained groan from reddened lips, hips hitching in the next thrust, the movement a little stuttered, because it's getting harder and harder to keep grasp of his own control the higher he pushes Claude. That yank of his hair gets a breathless laugh in Claude's ear as he finally releases his hold on Claude's own dark locks. But only to slide his hand down under him and sharply tweak one of the man's nipples in chiding. ]

That sounds like a good way to get us kicked out of the inn. But to hell with it.

[ Mostly because that had been his plan anyway, so it's no hardship to give him what he'd pled for, fucking into him harder, the movements sharp and purposeful now. And with that extra hand free now, it's easy to let it slide down Claude's body and wrap tightly around Claude's leaking cock, stroking it in time to his own thrusts into the man. ]

[godshattering]

[ Despite his own words, Claude couldn't possibly care less about the rest of the inn. Sylvain has a valid point there's a good chance this will earn them a none too pleased knock on the door, but surely they can't be the first people to get too amorous in this inn or any other one in Aquila. Regardless, that's a problem for their future selves and not something he wants Sylvain to focus on either if grabbing a little more onto the hair in his grip is anything to go by in yet another silent plea to stop talking and focus.

He gets his wish. The first even harder thrust draws a choked out noise from him that's somewhere between a gasp and a moan as it's once again just at the right angle it seems like the other's memorized from that relentless pace. There's a temptation to lean his head down against the desk, to somehow beckon Sylvain even closer like there's any space left between them from being pressed against the desk, but the hand wrapping around his aching cock after going without touch for so long erases that thought and anything else that's not Sylvain.

It won't be much longer and he knows it, and it's less a thought than an instinct which has every noise and moan Sylvain draws from him getting louder and louder to match the sensations running through him that he doesn't want to end. As much as the other's hold on him allows he chases the hand around his cock, each thrust and stroke paired with a shudder of pleasure until one final rock of hips has him releasing his grip on hair to reach farther back to dig his fingers and nails into what he can reach of Sylvain's shoulder like it'll somehow steady him when orgasm finally rushes through him and claims everything else.

As he comes with a sharp cry of the other's name as promised, spilling over his hand and the desk as he still tries to seek as much everything as possible to make it last as long as possible and bring Sylvain over the edge with him. ]