[He'd expected it, of course. He'd known what he was saying. But still his stomach drops hotly as Bruno murmurs that, voice low and unfairly smooth. Thank god he's allowed to touch him now, he thinks, and tips his head, catching Bruno's mouth in a rough kiss. It's a reward for that French, which sets a pretty good precedent.
He squirms again, this time far more pointedly. He's not good at light touches and slow movements; he's very ready to feel Bruno's hand up his shirt. Come on, that's what that squirming means, and he nudges his own hands up again as if in demonstration.]
no subject
He squirms again, this time far more pointedly. He's not good at light touches and slow movements; he's very ready to feel Bruno's hand up his shirt. Come on, that's what that squirming means, and he nudges his own hands up again as if in demonstration.]