[ Claude might not be quite the romance artist that Sylvain is, but he's never been particularly shy about physical intimacy. The warmth alone is worth it, the closeness between them chasing away the persistent chill and the press of Sylvain's mouth sending a warmth straight down to his chest.
He doesn't think too deeply about what he's doing, which is unlike him. Perhaps because he knows that if he thinks about it for more than a second he'll realize what a terrible idea it all is. What a terrible person it makes him.
But it would be better in the long run. Not only because Sylvain deserves better, but because it leaves room for an unease to crawl up his spine; a pressure that throbs like an unnatural headache in his skull. His tongue presses against the seam of Sylvain's mouth, and the heat of it clears some of the storm away.
It's a blessing, before something else comes slithering to take its place.
Two-faced liar, you carry deceit in your blood.
He thinks his grip tightens on Sylvain's waist, tension from nothing good wracking up his spine and the soft, teasing tone that Sylvain had pressed close with replaced with a bitter rigidity that Claude can't disguise for long.
The whispers rattle in his head; a painful grip around his heart as he tries to dispute the accusations that his Shadow levels against him, but whenever he tries, he finds himself back in the burning heat of Ailell, Shez' voice in his ear: Am I gonna be next?
He wrenches himself back, a hand going up to hold his temple— ] Sorry- sorry.
no subject
He doesn't think too deeply about what he's doing, which is unlike him. Perhaps because he knows that if he thinks about it for more than a second he'll realize what a terrible idea it all is. What a terrible person it makes him.
But it would be better in the long run. Not only because Sylvain deserves better, but because it leaves room for an unease to crawl up his spine; a pressure that throbs like an unnatural headache in his skull. His tongue presses against the seam of Sylvain's mouth, and the heat of it clears some of the storm away.
It's a blessing, before something else comes slithering to take its place.
Two-faced liar, you carry deceit in your blood.
He thinks his grip tightens on Sylvain's waist, tension from nothing good wracking up his spine and the soft, teasing tone that Sylvain had pressed close with replaced with a bitter rigidity that Claude can't disguise for long.
The whispers rattle in his head; a painful grip around his heart as he tries to dispute the accusations that his Shadow levels against him, but whenever he tries, he finds himself back in the burning heat of Ailell, Shez' voice in his ear: Am I gonna be next?
He wrenches himself back, a hand going up to hold his temple— ] Sorry- sorry.