[His breath catches at the gentle touch, Sylvain's hand on his cheek, and it's all he can do not to lean into it like a cat being petted. He can press into the kiss, though, the tenderness in it more affecting than the simple fact of being kissed.
Sylvain's teasing words make him grin, more familiar territory than these almost unbearably tender touches. He's dragged in by his clothes, a breathless laugh escaping him as he's pulled toward the bed. Clever fingers tease at the bottom hem of Sylvain's sleep shirt, skimming across firm muscle and warm skin.] Not a bad start.
[The rhythm of it returns to him easily, once they start. Like getting back into a familiar saddle with a familiar horse- the gait is comfortable even with years of distance between them. His body remembers, even if his mind forgot, and the warm touch of Claude's fingers against his skin makes him hum.]
You still blush so easily.
[He teases more, knowing the banter is a comfortable crutch for the both of them, and making Claude speak will force his brain to do something other than think about work. Hopefully. Once he's backed up to the bed, Sylvain grabs Claude by the thighs and pulls him into his lap in a fluid motion as he sits, grinning like a chesire cat.]
[Claude rolls his eyes at the tease, still grinning.]
It's been a while, alright?
[Over five years, in fact. Not out of any sense of staying monogamous-- they both know it isn't that sort of relationship. It's just that the list of people Claude trusts enough to let in his bed is short enough to count on one hand. The opportunity hasn't presented itself since the last time he and Sylvain had hooked up like this.
He chuckles breathily as Sylvain pulls him into his lap, straddling him and tugging his shirt up.]
[He doesn't think that'd make a difference, really. Claude's a blushy guy, which is only made extra cute by the tone of his skin. He can't use being pale as an excuse for flushing easily. But Sylvain does feel a little jolt at the admission, and his eyes soften for it. Not pity, exactly, just an understanding that the last handful of years have been hard on them all, and that Claude really is awful at taking care of himself.
Pot, kettle, you know the drill.]
So did you, mister shoulders.
[He slides his hands up those thighs, tucking into Claude's shirt to get onto his abs and back. They leave momentarily to grab his shirt by the collar and tug it off, leaving all his new upper body strength on display to the air.]
[He laughs again, knowing full well that he's filled out very nicely himself. He takes quite a bit of pride in his looks, for good reason.]
All that archery and wyvern riding is good for something. [He winks, arching into Sylvain's hands like an overindulgent cat. He can't help a sigh at the loss of their warmth on him, but he helps with the removal of his shirt, a small shiver running through his shoulders as his bare chest is exposed to the cool night air. He's gotten slightly more accustomed to Fodlan's climate, sure, but he's gotten used to Derdriu in the past five years. It's colder at the monastery.]
[Overly indulgent flirting? Hey, it's distracting. Claude isn't the only one allowed a little vanity, here. But he can preen more if he likes, as Sylvain admires the new width of his chest and the strength he carries, both eyes and hands roaming. He pauses at Claude's upper arms, feeling slight goosebumps there and gives them a rough little rub.]
Aww, are you cold?
[Claude's horrible tolerance for cold will never stop being funny or a source of teasing, sorry. He makes up for it by kissing across a shoulder and up Claude's neck.]
[Claude chuckles, obviously enjoying the compliment, as much in Sylvain's eyes and hands as in his words. He rolls his eyes good-naturedly at the teasing, pressing even closer to the redhead's warmth and tilting his head to the side.]
I am... you gonna warm me up? [He runs his fingers teasingly down Sylvain's chest, through the well-groomed trail of hair that runs down from his stomach. He'd heard someone call it a "treasure trail" once-- definitely seems apt at the moment. The thought makes him grin. Yeah, this is definitely helping to keep his mind off all his damn work.]
[Playfulness is replacing stress in Claude's demeanor and Sylvain grins against skin, taking a little nibble of neck as he runs his warm hands over Claude's sides and back.]
I'll make you work up a sweat, [He mutters back, breathing warm against the shell of Claude's ear. He hums low, enjoying the touch, and rolling his hips a little as Claude draws near the waistband of his pants. He draws fingernails lightly up Claude's spine as he latches down on his neck, sucking a bruise into the skin.]
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no subject
Sylvain's teasing words make him grin, more familiar territory than these almost unbearably tender touches. He's dragged in by his clothes, a breathless laugh escaping him as he's pulled toward the bed. Clever fingers tease at the bottom hem of Sylvain's sleep shirt, skimming across firm muscle and warm skin.] Not a bad start.
no subject
You still blush so easily.
[He teases more, knowing the banter is a comfortable crutch for the both of them, and making Claude speak will force his brain to do something other than think about work. Hopefully. Once he's backed up to the bed, Sylvain grabs Claude by the thighs and pulls him into his lap in a fluid motion as he sits, grinning like a chesire cat.]
no subject
It's been a while, alright?
[Over five years, in fact. Not out of any sense of staying monogamous-- they both know it isn't that sort of relationship. It's just that the list of people Claude trusts enough to let in his bed is short enough to count on one hand. The opportunity hasn't presented itself since the last time he and Sylvain had hooked up like this.
He chuckles breathily as Sylvain pulls him into his lap, straddling him and tugging his shirt up.]
You've filled out well.
no subject
[He doesn't think that'd make a difference, really. Claude's a blushy guy, which is only made extra cute by the tone of his skin. He can't use being pale as an excuse for flushing easily. But Sylvain does feel a little jolt at the admission, and his eyes soften for it. Not pity, exactly, just an understanding that the last handful of years have been hard on them all, and that Claude really is awful at taking care of himself.
Pot, kettle, you know the drill.]
So did you, mister shoulders.
[He slides his hands up those thighs, tucking into Claude's shirt to get onto his abs and back. They leave momentarily to grab his shirt by the collar and tug it off, leaving all his new upper body strength on display to the air.]
no subject
All that archery and wyvern riding is good for something. [He winks, arching into Sylvain's hands like an overindulgent cat. He can't help a sigh at the loss of their warmth on him, but he helps with the removal of his shirt, a small shiver running through his shoulders as his bare chest is exposed to the cool night air. He's gotten slightly more accustomed to Fodlan's climate, sure, but he's gotten used to Derdriu in the past five years. It's colder at the monastery.]
no subject
[Overly indulgent flirting? Hey, it's distracting. Claude isn't the only one allowed a little vanity, here. But he can preen more if he likes, as Sylvain admires the new width of his chest and the strength he carries, both eyes and hands roaming. He pauses at Claude's upper arms, feeling slight goosebumps there and gives them a rough little rub.]
Aww, are you cold?
[Claude's horrible tolerance for cold will never stop being funny or a source of teasing, sorry. He makes up for it by kissing across a shoulder and up Claude's neck.]
no subject
I am... you gonna warm me up? [He runs his fingers teasingly down Sylvain's chest, through the well-groomed trail of hair that runs down from his stomach. He'd heard someone call it a "treasure trail" once-- definitely seems apt at the moment. The thought makes him grin. Yeah, this is definitely helping to keep his mind off all his damn work.]
no subject
I'll make you work up a sweat, [He mutters back, breathing warm against the shell of Claude's ear. He hums low, enjoying the touch, and rolling his hips a little as Claude draws near the waistband of his pants. He draws fingernails lightly up Claude's spine as he latches down on his neck, sucking a bruise into the skin.]