[ It's a yes, one must presume, and the promise of more suddenly hits him with enough force to make his breath stumble out of him, Claude's mouth warm and insistent. He tastes prosecco on them both and there's something exhilerating about that idea, about the way parts of them become so similiar to be indistinguisable just by virtue of sharing such a simple thing. It's why sharing with people is hard, of course. Sometimes, it makes you blend and then, at the end when you separate again as is always the case, parts of you are inevitably lost in the process.
He's lost much of himself already. He's still here.
Eyes closing, he curls his hand against the nape of Claude's neck before following the small opening between his lips with the tip of his tongue. It's just a brief transition - as soon as he feels the other man give, he slips inside. He doesn't push too forcefully because literally no one wants to be drowned on the first kiss but he doesn't pull back quickly, either. Instead, he explores what he can easily feel of Claude's tongue, gliding over it, tasting the remnants of alcohol for a few seconds before the man's natural taste comes through.
He tastes like warmth. Softness. Inside and out, apparently.
His next breath is audible, a low moan from the very back of his throat. The urge to get more, to go deeper intensifies and he shifts again, his cock hardening quickly in his trousers. Curious and mostly on impulse, he runs his other hand up the inside of Claude's thigh slowly, inching inwards. You as well, it means, and it's a question and a command, both. He wants to feel him out, just to know. Are they following each other, still?
He likes the thought, for reasons he can't quite understand.
Undoubtedly, that too goes back to world views and perspectives. ]
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He's lost much of himself already. He's still here.
Eyes closing, he curls his hand against the nape of Claude's neck before following the small opening between his lips with the tip of his tongue. It's just a brief transition - as soon as he feels the other man give, he slips inside. He doesn't push too forcefully because literally no one wants to be drowned on the first kiss but he doesn't pull back quickly, either. Instead, he explores what he can easily feel of Claude's tongue, gliding over it, tasting the remnants of alcohol for a few seconds before the man's natural taste comes through.
He tastes like warmth. Softness. Inside and out, apparently.
His next breath is audible, a low moan from the very back of his throat. The urge to get more, to go deeper intensifies and he shifts again, his cock hardening quickly in his trousers. Curious and mostly on impulse, he runs his other hand up the inside of Claude's thigh slowly, inching inwards. You as well, it means, and it's a question and a command, both. He wants to feel him out, just to know. Are they following each other, still?
He likes the thought, for reasons he can't quite understand.
Undoubtedly, that too goes back to world views and perspectives. ]