[ It doesn't just come with age, the present, it comes with a story - the kind you can get told when shopping at the St-Ouen markets, because it's real people who're passing along real, living history for money. If you're inclined to listen - and apparently Jean Louis got stopped and he got talked to, but most importantly, he listened and Claude wants to eat him now, he doesn't care about his sister next door, he's listened to her suck off her boyfriends a zillion times. This is fair trade.
Arching into the touch of Jean Louis' fingers, he listens, too, listen to him say, they value change, it seemed fitting. Because he knows, that's the foundation they met on, that Claude is working to change the very world order than Jean Louis represents and is ruling by. They shouldn't be able to co-exist, let alone want to engage in anything more intimate, but here they are and Claude has never met anyone who was as good at understanding him, making room for him in this world than Jean Louis is.
But there are things Jean Louis can't understand about him, things he doesn't even know, like - why Claude hasn't initiated anal yet, why he never invites more when Jean Louis makes it clear as day that he favours his ass. And Claude wonders, lying there on his front, chin resting on one bent arm, whether it's the real Claude Jean Louis is buying presents for, as long as it's unsaid, secret. There will always be a part of him obscured, if he doesn't open up about that. That thing. That terrible, destructive thing that doesn't fit with the rest of him (or maybe it does, right, maybe it fits better than anything).
Swallowing as the other man's fingers follow the curve of his spine down to where the duvet covers the curve of his ass, the rise of his ass cheeks, he eventually, slowly, oh so slowly, turns onto his side, breaking the touch. However, rather than letting the other man withdraw as he imagines he would, because Jean Louis is quick to read the room, a room, any room, he grabs his wrist and keeps his hand close for a moment, before placing it against his hip, jutting out from underneath the orange-red duvet. ]
Jean Louis, there's something I need you to know, before we -- [ -- move on to the ass stuff, he wants to say, not make too big a deal out of it, and because he does want to, he does want to share that with Jean Louis, too, but he can't even say the words. All he hears at the back of his head is Rainier's voice, one heavy arm around his shoulders as they leave the classroom together, lowered, discreet, I don't think you've deserved to come today when I fuck you later. Clearing his throat, he quickly gets himself under control, shaking his head softly. ] -- There's a reason that bill was so important to me. I guess, like all the strongest incentives in the world, it was very personal.
[ Pause. He wants to just tell him. Make it simple, but it isn't, that's the fucking problem, isn't it? It's not that he wants Jean Louis to guess, but his mind is blank insofar as how you let someone in. He's never done it before. And it was one thing Rainier definitely didn't teach him either. ]
no subject
[ It doesn't just come with age, the present, it comes with a story - the kind you can get told when shopping at the St-Ouen markets, because it's real people who're passing along real, living history for money. If you're inclined to listen - and apparently Jean Louis got stopped and he got talked to, but most importantly, he listened and Claude wants to eat him now, he doesn't care about his sister next door, he's listened to her suck off her boyfriends a zillion times. This is fair trade.
Arching into the touch of Jean Louis' fingers, he listens, too, listen to him say, they value change, it seemed fitting. Because he knows, that's the foundation they met on, that Claude is working to change the very world order than Jean Louis represents and is ruling by. They shouldn't be able to co-exist, let alone want to engage in anything more intimate, but here they are and Claude has never met anyone who was as good at understanding him, making room for him in this world than Jean Louis is.
But there are things Jean Louis can't understand about him, things he doesn't even know, like - why Claude hasn't initiated anal yet, why he never invites more when Jean Louis makes it clear as day that he favours his ass. And Claude wonders, lying there on his front, chin resting on one bent arm, whether it's the real Claude Jean Louis is buying presents for, as long as it's unsaid, secret. There will always be a part of him obscured, if he doesn't open up about that. That thing. That terrible, destructive thing that doesn't fit with the rest of him (or maybe it does, right, maybe it fits better than anything).
Swallowing as the other man's fingers follow the curve of his spine down to where the duvet covers the curve of his ass, the rise of his ass cheeks, he eventually, slowly, oh so slowly, turns onto his side, breaking the touch. However, rather than letting the other man withdraw as he imagines he would, because Jean Louis is quick to read the room, a room, any room, he grabs his wrist and keeps his hand close for a moment, before placing it against his hip, jutting out from underneath the orange-red duvet. ]
Jean Louis, there's something I need you to know, before we -- [ -- move on to the ass stuff, he wants to say, not make too big a deal out of it, and because he does want to, he does want to share that with Jean Louis, too, but he can't even say the words. All he hears at the back of his head is Rainier's voice, one heavy arm around his shoulders as they leave the classroom together, lowered, discreet, I don't think you've deserved to come today when I fuck you later. Clearing his throat, he quickly gets himself under control, shaking his head softly. ] -- There's a reason that bill was so important to me. I guess, like all the strongest incentives in the world, it was very personal.
[ Pause. He wants to just tell him. Make it simple, but it isn't, that's the fucking problem, isn't it? It's not that he wants Jean Louis to guess, but his mind is blank insofar as how you let someone in. He's never done it before. And it was one thing Rainier definitely didn't teach him either. ]