[ Claude responds by curling his fingers around his cock, right beneath the head at first and fuck, there's a sensitive spot right there and Jean Louis' breath actually stumbles against the other man's lips, his hips jerking very slightly into his grip. They don't break the kiss, though, not before Claude's dragged his hand all the way down his shaft to his balls, the tightness equal parts relieving (friction, at the very least) and infuriating (not enough, not enough). Then, he breaks it. Releases Jean Louis' cock and sits up, too, and it takes a small mountain of self-control for him not to grasp onto Claude's hip and force him back onto the bed. His cock is so hard that it hurts. But he manages, all the same, to stay still because Claude is treasure and breakable, too, and he has to be careful.
He can't forget how easily breakable things break.
I want to suck you off, says Claude which yes, that's a good plan, very much approved - and then, without protection.
His mind tumbles off the tracks for a second.
He knows, of course, logically that this has long since gone beyond the casual world of one-night-stands and fuckbuddies and what have you - after all, they go on dates and they drink coffee together and Claude holds his hand when they walk, like it's the most self-evident thing to do when it clearly, clearly isn't - so yes, he understands. But they've never fucked without protection and he'd not expected them to; he'd thought, perhaps, that Claude simply prefers it. Swallowing, his cock actually jerking slightly at the mere thought of sinking into all that wetness, the tightness of his mouth, without a condom... ]
You know you don't have to.
[ In truth, it's a question, not a statement. Because sometimes, Claude doesn't seem to know what he must and mustn't do and sometimes, Jean Louis wants to strangle the man who caused such disruption in Claude's priorities with a piece of string and eventually, watch it go through his neck like butter. There's definitely breathlessness in his voice, though; an answer in itself because Claude's statement, in contrast, was a question too. ]
no subject
He can't forget how easily breakable things break.
I want to suck you off, says Claude which yes, that's a good plan, very much approved - and then, without protection.
His mind tumbles off the tracks for a second.
He knows, of course, logically that this has long since gone beyond the casual world of one-night-stands and fuckbuddies and what have you - after all, they go on dates and they drink coffee together and Claude holds his hand when they walk, like it's the most self-evident thing to do when it clearly, clearly isn't - so yes, he understands. But they've never fucked without protection and he'd not expected them to; he'd thought, perhaps, that Claude simply prefers it. Swallowing, his cock actually jerking slightly at the mere thought of sinking into all that wetness, the tightness of his mouth, without a condom... ]
You know you don't have to.
[ In truth, it's a question, not a statement. Because sometimes, Claude doesn't seem to know what he must and mustn't do and sometimes, Jean Louis wants to strangle the man who caused such disruption in Claude's priorities with a piece of string and eventually, watch it go through his neck like butter. There's definitely breathlessness in his voice, though; an answer in itself because Claude's statement, in contrast, was a question too. ]