[It's honestly unfair, the things Sylvain does to him? The way Sylvain knows what to touch, what to kiss, what to say, all with such perfect timing that Felix doesn't merely shiver; Felix shudders, a full-body movement that sends him turning his head, shamelessly nuzzling into the crook of Sylvain's neck. Yes, he's sensitive. The light pressure against the base of his tail is all that sends him shifting his hips, chasing something that isn't quite there, but it's hearing Sylvain give voice to what should be obvious that really gets him. The simple affirmation that Sylvain wants to be where he is...]
Sylvain—
[There's so much packed into those two syllables? Love and want and need, all while one of the hands in Sylvain's hair drifts down, blindly cupping the side of his face; the other tugs at Sylvain's hair, not roughly, but just enough to get his attention. Hey. Hi. The world is a hazy, hazy place, and yet Felix forces himself to focus, to press his too-warm face against the column of Sylvain's throat as he murmurs:]
Get in.
[Before we can't, that tone implies, because they're playing a dangerous game here.]
no subject
Sylvain—
[There's so much packed into those two syllables? Love and want and need, all while one of the hands in Sylvain's hair drifts down, blindly cupping the side of his face; the other tugs at Sylvain's hair, not roughly, but just enough to get his attention. Hey. Hi. The world is a hazy, hazy place, and yet Felix forces himself to focus, to press his too-warm face against the column of Sylvain's throat as he murmurs:]
Get in.
[Before we can't, that tone implies, because they're playing a dangerous game here.]