[ Jean Louis follows suit, stepping all up in his private sphere and more or less pushing them against each other until there's no space left in between. Just the proximity, just the feeling of body and need. Need more than want. The other man's hands follow his waist down to his ass, grabbing his buttocks and kneading them without actually pushing for entrance, without spreading him open and Claude truly appreciates that. This is honestly the first relationship he's been in since Rainier where his ass hasn't been short of blacklisted. There's no throwback when Jean Louis touches his ass, which is nice, really. There's no knee-jerk reaction of, stay away.
There's just that, need.
He hums deep in his throat and turns his face into the headfull of hair that's within reach, the strands wet and he's breathing in damp and droplets, but it's good. It smells like Jean Louis. He kisses his temple, the curve of his skull, anything he can reach. His breathing is bordering on a pant, wet, little exhalations, quick-paced and light. He feels slightly light-headed. When he feels Jean Louis hardening, his own cock does the same, like a call.
An invitation. Between them, that's what it is.
Jean Louis' question makes him chuckle and he shakes his head, reaching up with both hands now to press them over Jean Louis' pleasantly hairy pecs, rubbing the ball of his palms over his nipples, feeling the little nub slide over his skin. His fingers tingle, he wants to touch.
Still, he waits a moment. ]
They're probably the same person and undoubtedly liberals in both forms, so I guess the answer either way would be: yes.
[ Then, he slides his hands down and catches both Jean Louis' nipples between his fingers, rubbing a thumb over one and just letting him feel his hold on the other, promising. ]
no subject
There's just that, need.
He hums deep in his throat and turns his face into the headfull of hair that's within reach, the strands wet and he's breathing in damp and droplets, but it's good. It smells like Jean Louis. He kisses his temple, the curve of his skull, anything he can reach. His breathing is bordering on a pant, wet, little exhalations, quick-paced and light. He feels slightly light-headed. When he feels Jean Louis hardening, his own cock does the same, like a call.
An invitation. Between them, that's what it is.
Jean Louis' question makes him chuckle and he shakes his head, reaching up with both hands now to press them over Jean Louis' pleasantly hairy pecs, rubbing the ball of his palms over his nipples, feeling the little nub slide over his skin. His fingers tingle, he wants to touch.
Still, he waits a moment. ]
They're probably the same person and undoubtedly liberals in both forms, so I guess the answer either way would be: yes.
[ Then, he slides his hands down and catches both Jean Louis' nipples between his fingers, rubbing a thumb over one and just letting him feel his hold on the other, promising. ]