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]

[ 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. ]

[philancer]

[ Each one of those shudders comes with a clench of muscles around Sylvain's own cock, able to feel the pleasure he sends shivering along the other man's nerves as those noises he earns get louder. More breathless and strained. He knows Claude is getting closer even before he reaches back to sink nails into his shoulder, drawing a quiet hiss from Sylvain at the sharp sensation.

It just adds to everything Sylvain is already feeling, a momentary grounding to help him hold on a few moments more, to see Claude tip over that edge. And it's as beautiful a sight as he thought it would be, the man's head thrown back as he loses himself for a moment, more, in the pleasure that Sylvain gave him. An achievement he's more than a little smug about, because he doesn't think there's very many Claude would ever let see him like this.

But it's a short-lived thought, because this all feels too good and he'd clung to his own control for as long as he could. The feeling of Claude coming undone beneath him, around him, his name a hoarse cry on those lips, is more than enough to unravel the last threads of his own resistance and he fucks into Claude deep, riding the waves of the other man's orgasm, chasing his own. It doesn't take long before he's spilling with a deep shudder, fingers biting in maybe a little too tight in their grip around Claude's wrist without realizing it. Claude's name a choked curse on his lips as the pleasure washes through him, leaving him spent and more than a little weak in the knees.

Releasing his grip on Claude's wrist, he braces himself on one arm atop the desk, slumped over Claude's back as he drags ragged gasps of air into his lungs. His forehead rests between Claude's shoulderblades, pressed against his back as his breath puffs against warm skin. ]

Fuck.

[ Yeah, that about sums it up. ]

[godshattering]

[ Sylvain chasing his pleasure drives gasp after gasp out of him, each thrust playing upon sensitive nerves in a way that rides the line between pleasurable and too much just as everything else has. Which is to say: all of it is every bit as enjoyable as he presses back against Sylvain as much as he can again. It has him reluctantly letting go of the other's shoulder, much as he wants to keep his fingers sunk into it to mark him even more, because he has to put that palm down to make sure he stays standing even with the help of the other man's grasp around him.

He can tell Sylvain's close and if he could manage words, there'd be plenty that he'd offer like any number of those plans from before. What he has to offer is encouraging him on until he feels the other man coming, something that brings a grin to his face that only gets wider when Sylvain slumps against him to catch his breath. ]

Now who can't move?

[ Not a complaint. Claude's more than smug in his own way since he'll have to settle for putting that grin of satisfaction over everything into his voice. Or maybe into teasing Sylvain a bit more to go with it, tightening a bit around his likely still sensitive cock for the sensation even as it causes his own breath to hitch when it doubles back to get him too.

Which is, of course, all the more reason to do it again or until Sylvain tells him to stop, though the next one has him putting his own arm forward to brace himself against the desk. That also provides a chance to admire the light finger marks around his wrist before idly resting his hand overtop Sylvain's without really thinking about the action, spurred on by some subconscious urge for more contact. ]

That makes two of us. Hope you're ready to carry me back to bed when we can both manage it.

[philancer]

Both of us, clearly.

[ The words are murmured into the flushed, damp skin of Claude's back, but his grin is still audible all the same.

There's a soft hiss when Claude tightens around him, body shuddering in the aftershocks still from his orgasm and nerves all too sensitive still in the aftermath of intense pleasure. He lifts his head enough to nip sharply at Claude's shoulder in chiding. ]

It's going to take longer, if you keep doing that.

[ Not telling him no, however. Not that he would anyway. It still feels incredible, even if his body is all but humming from the stimulation and the lingering spasm that shiver through his muscles. The nip turns to sucking kisses, marking his way up the back of Claude's shoulder to his throat once more. ]

Goddess. You're fucking gorgeous when you come. I knew you would be.

[godshattering]

If that was meant to dissuade me, it's not working.

[ Another grin makes its way onto his face and into his words again, and the same goes for when teeth find his shoulder. They find it all too briefly in his opinion and that hiss and shudder from Sylvain were nice but also not enough. Time to tighten around him once more.

Turns out Claude didn't have long to wait for more from the other's mouth as it travels over him, and there's an all too pleased hum when those clever lips find his throat. It only takes but a second before he tips his head back to lean it as best he can against Sylvain's shoulder to open up more space. ]

I am, aren't I. [ Now he's playing this particular level of smugness mostly for laughs and to entertain them both as he runs the fingers of his free hand up as much of Sylvain's arm as he can reach before resting it against the back of his neck to keep him close. ] Though that just means I still need to see you come rather than feel it alone. I want the full experience when I'm sure it's every bit as wonderful as it sounded. Something I think we'd better fix in the morning, don't you?

[philancer]

Wore you out that much, did I?

[ There's a playful note in his voice as he nips at Claude's earlobe, letting his hands free at last so he can wrap them around Claude's torso. He suspects the desk isn't going to be very comfortable the longer they lean on it - especially for Claude - so after another moment of catching his breath he - reluctantly - pulls out of the other man.

And then, just because Claude had teased him about it, swept the other man over one shoulder so he could carry him back to the bed and drop him on his ass on the mattress with a smug little smirk. He spares a moment to drink in that sight - a naked Claude spread out before him, clearly spent and still flushed from pleasure, reddened love bites very visible on his skin - before crawling up beside him and stretching out so he can kiss him once more. Finally. It had been the only downside to their positioning. He hadn't been able to see Claude's face well, either, or claim his mouth in the midst of pleasure.

Not that he minded hearing all those delicious sounds completely unmuffled in exchange. ]

Are you sure you're going to be up to moving that much, come morning?

[godshattering]

[ There's no chance to respond to that mildly snarky comment before he's swept up in Sylvain's arms in a rare lack of foresight, and the action gets a startled yelp from him. Just as quickly he's deposited back on the bed which naturally demands an equally dramatic oof as he goes. Claude's tempted to reach to take the boots off before they get too comfortable and he ends up sleeping in them - but then stops himself when he notices Sylvain's none too subtle admiration. And he can hardly ruin the other's view just like that, can he?

The start of a grin stretches across his face upon watching Sylvain crawl closer until it's interrupted by a mouth on his that's far too easy to lean into. There's that undercurrent of something he's not naming beneath it as he rests one hand on Sylvain's nearest bicep and the other curved around a strong jaw. ]

I said I wanted to feel it tomorrow, didn't I? You certainly delivered on that and then some, because I know you're going to gloat about it. [ Mumbled against those lips with maybe the hint of a smirk before he closes that barely there distance for another kiss since that feels like it needs it. Like it's more than necessary. ] Gloat while you can, though, since I plan on doubling down on it in the morning. For you, that is.

[philancer]

[ That warning - threat? - gets a husky chuckle from him as he obligingly kisses him more, mouth possessive against Claude's own as he lets his hand slide up to cradle against his cheek. The impatience of earlier has calmed into something slower and languorous, lazy almost, as he takes advantage of this closeness and the freedom to do... well, whatever he wants, it seems. ]

Oh, I'm looking forward to it.

[ He is absolutely going to be gloating a lot. For quite a while. But for now, he delivers one more deep kiss before pulling back. ]

I'm gonna go grab a wet cloth to get us cleaned up for the night. The rest can hold till morning. Or eventually. [ And then he glances down the length of Claude's body and gives a soft, mournful sigh. ] And I suppose you'll need to take those off before bed.

[ Truly the saddest part of the evening. ]

[godshattering]

[ The possessiveness is easy to feel, something akin to a river current tugging at his ankles to demand attention or to be swept away in it. He's not quite to the point of the latter, instead flirting with the idea more than anything else. This is what Claude tells himself, anyway, considering maybe it was closer to that when Sylvain pulls back.

Cleaning up is a good idea. It's tempting to put it off a bit longer though he lets his hands fall away so as to not keep him there. That very heavy sigh as though Sylvain's been presented with something positively life-ruining is too difficult to not laugh at as he settles back against their pillows. ]

You look like they're going to vanish forever once I'm no longer wearing them. I'm sure I could find a reason to keep them around.

[ Like this reaction, for example. Or all the other reactions Sylvain's had to the boots over the course of the night, really. Something to think about for later, because in the meantime he's going to lift one leg very helpfully. ]

Or better yet, you could always take them off for me to enjoy them a little longer.

[ That totally counts, right? ]