[ Claude responds by pushing into his hand, moaning prettily into his mouth at the same time and Jean Louis isn't in any hurry; when he'd come back from his shopping, he'd felt about ready to actually sleep (powernapping is, of course, something he does quite regularly, seeing as he rarely sleeps for more than a few hours at a time) but now, with Claude hot in his hand and mouth, he can't think of anything he'd rather do than this. Just this slow, easy edging, combined with being with someone, with Claude of all people and close enough to thoroughly map out his scent. It's good. When Claude nibbles his lower lip, he smirks and opens his eyes, catching his gaze. He's slung his arms around his shoulders, basically hanging off him and it's perfectly fine, he's a weightless one, Claude, at least to him.
It feels like no matter how much the other man takes when he's done and whatever this is comes to an end, he'll feel no less burdened by it in the aftermath. That's a lie, of course, but a beautiful one. He likes it. He indulges.
Claude, meanwhile, leads his hand off his cock and Jean Louis willingly follows his initiative as he's done quite often around him before. Claude is new in that regard, too - usually, his position in the world doesn't really afford him the chance to be diplomatic or to lead and follow in equal measures. That's not what anyone needs from him, at least not anyone else. Claude - Claude is different. Has been different from the get-go. When he licks his fingers, first one, then the other, Jean Louis follows the line of his tongue, the stretch of his lips, his cock jerking again, leaking at the tip. He can't tear his gaze away, not until Claude's done and even then, he takes a second longer to simply stare at his own hand, his fingers glistening and his palm full of the other man's traces.
Consequently, when Claude leans in and kisses him again, pushing into his mouth, getting deep and persistent, he's caught off guard and loses his breath for almost long enough to get lightheaded. He pulls back with a gasp. ]
Fuck, Claude.
[ His voice is rough, smoky. Feeling full of him, his taste heavy and warm on his tongue, Jean Louis shifts forward, backing Claude up against the wall, not violently but all the same, unapologetically. He holds him against himself, the spray catching them both from the side, and folds his hand around Claude's cock. Like that, he leans in again and kisses him, keeping his lips parted and letting the other man take as he pleases while he does the same, stroking him at a steady pace, not teasing anymore but with a clear purpose.
He's breathing hard against his lips, his other hand slipping into Claude's hair, cradling his curls. ]
no subject
It feels like no matter how much the other man takes when he's done and whatever this is comes to an end, he'll feel no less burdened by it in the aftermath. That's a lie, of course, but a beautiful one. He likes it. He indulges.
Claude, meanwhile, leads his hand off his cock and Jean Louis willingly follows his initiative as he's done quite often around him before. Claude is new in that regard, too - usually, his position in the world doesn't really afford him the chance to be diplomatic or to lead and follow in equal measures. That's not what anyone needs from him, at least not anyone else. Claude - Claude is different. Has been different from the get-go. When he licks his fingers, first one, then the other, Jean Louis follows the line of his tongue, the stretch of his lips, his cock jerking again, leaking at the tip. He can't tear his gaze away, not until Claude's done and even then, he takes a second longer to simply stare at his own hand, his fingers glistening and his palm full of the other man's traces.
Consequently, when Claude leans in and kisses him again, pushing into his mouth, getting deep and persistent, he's caught off guard and loses his breath for almost long enough to get lightheaded. He pulls back with a gasp. ]
Fuck, Claude.
[ His voice is rough, smoky. Feeling full of him, his taste heavy and warm on his tongue, Jean Louis shifts forward, backing Claude up against the wall, not violently but all the same, unapologetically. He holds him against himself, the spray catching them both from the side, and folds his hand around Claude's cock. Like that, he leans in again and kisses him, keeping his lips parted and letting the other man take as he pleases while he does the same, stroking him at a steady pace, not teasing anymore but with a clear purpose.
He's breathing hard against his lips, his other hand slipping into Claude's hair, cradling his curls. ]