[Sylvain has absolutely no idea how much time passes in that messy kiss. He's dizzy and warm and all he can think of is the taste of his equally desperate lover.
His lips are sore and tender by the time they part, and the brown of Sylvain's eyes is almost completely drowned out by his pupils. He makes a soft questioning sort of sound, blinking slowly. What does Linhardt mean? Is he going to join them?
Apparently yes, but not in a way that's really going to help, of course. Sylvain isn't even being touched and he whimpers, watching with rapt attention as Linhardt teases Claude, touch so soft and so infuriating. Sylvain wants to have that touch, and to be the one with Claude's cock in hand, in equal measure.
His tongue peeks out to wet already shiny lips, and then his eyes slide back up. Lin's expression sets his heart to frantic beating, and he feels yet more heat in his face. He swallows through a thickness, wanting to speak but unable to find words. ]
[Claude is too busy trying to chase after Sylvain's retreating lips to notice what Linhardt's doing at first, but his attention is abruptly shifted to his long-haired lover when he presses up against him from behind. Claude practically melts into the touch, shuddering and whining-- the scrape of Linhardt's clothes on his skin is almost too much in itself, but the spikes of pain and pleasure from those long, clever fingers teasing at his nipples and cock making him jolt and writhe against him.]
Oh-- Lin! P-Please-- [He whimpers, trying to thrust against that featherlight touch. Claude is far from a quiet lover, but the aphrodisiac has him already unable to hold back any desperate, wanting sound. Every pinch to his nipples makes him curse and groan. Hooded eyes catch Sylvain watching him and, if it's even possible, the flush on his cheeks darkens. He moans at the sight of Sylvain's tongue darting out, wanting to feel that mouth on him, anywhere, everywhere.]
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His lips are sore and tender by the time they part, and the brown of Sylvain's eyes is almost completely drowned out by his pupils. He makes a soft questioning sort of sound, blinking slowly. What does Linhardt mean? Is he going to join them?
Apparently yes, but not in a way that's really going to help, of course. Sylvain isn't even being touched and he whimpers, watching with rapt attention as Linhardt teases Claude, touch so soft and so infuriating. Sylvain wants to have that touch, and to be the one with Claude's cock in hand, in equal measure.
His tongue peeks out to wet already shiny lips, and then his eyes slide back up. Lin's expression sets his heart to frantic beating, and he feels yet more heat in his face. He swallows through a thickness, wanting to speak but unable to find words. ]
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Oh-- Lin! P-Please-- [He whimpers, trying to thrust against that featherlight touch. Claude is far from a quiet lover, but the aphrodisiac has him already unable to hold back any desperate, wanting sound. Every pinch to his nipples makes him curse and groan. Hooded eyes catch Sylvain watching him and, if it's even possible, the flush on his cheeks darkens. He moans at the sight of Sylvain's tongue darting out, wanting to feel that mouth on him, anywhere, everywhere.]