["Just shy of too rough" is precisely how Felix likes most things—but stupidly enough, it's Sylvain's smile that threatens to undo him? The clear affection that shines through. He wants to take Sylvain's face in both hands and study that smile, bask in its warmth—and yet he also wants to bury his too-warm face in the crook of Sylvain's neck, because Sylvain is too bright to look at, sometimes. Staring at him is a little like staring straight at the sun.
But Sylvain looks away first, hurriedly shedding layer after layer, and Felix's eyes roam over every visible inch of him before he finds himself distracted by yet another kiss. Slow and sweet, this time. Miles away from that opening bite, and yet Felix is pleased all the same, rolling his hips forward while ignoring the many, many reasons why they should put this on pause. A servant could come in to clean, or to stoke the fire. A council member could come back to pick up something they left behind, though Felix doubts any of them are truly that stupid. And the simple thought of falling back into their bed—
...Well. It would be nice, to welcome Sylvain back to the space they sometimes share; it will be nice, when they make it there, but Felix hears that short, simple sentence and Felix is gone, gone, gone, eyes closing on a sigh. I missed you. Such an obvious thing, but Felix abandons Sylvain's beard in favor of wrapping his fingers about Sylvain's wrist? Brings Sylvain's hand up, all so that he can press a lingering kiss to the center of that lance-roughened palm. Actions speak louder than words, in Felix's opinion; the meaning of this should be perfectly clear, and yet, after a quiet hum, Felix offers an even quieter:]
I missed you, too. [Which Sylvain should very well know, just like Sylvain should very well know that Felix is usually loath to say what is patently obvious. This is a concession—and it's followed by Felix cracking open his eyes, forcing himself to hold Sylvain's gaze as he brings that thumb back down to brush against his lips.] Welcome back.
[A hint of a smirk, then, before Felix sucks Sylvain's finger into his mouth, swiping his tongue along the pad of it. There's no lounging in bed... but there's this, at least. Felix goading Sylvain into wrecking him on this table.]
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But Sylvain looks away first, hurriedly shedding layer after layer, and Felix's eyes roam over every visible inch of him before he finds himself distracted by yet another kiss. Slow and sweet, this time. Miles away from that opening bite, and yet Felix is pleased all the same, rolling his hips forward while ignoring the many, many reasons why they should put this on pause. A servant could come in to clean, or to stoke the fire. A council member could come back to pick up something they left behind, though Felix doubts any of them are truly that stupid. And the simple thought of falling back into their bed—
...Well. It would be nice, to welcome Sylvain back to the space they sometimes share; it will be nice, when they make it there, but Felix hears that short, simple sentence and Felix is gone, gone, gone, eyes closing on a sigh. I missed you. Such an obvious thing, but Felix abandons Sylvain's beard in favor of wrapping his fingers about Sylvain's wrist? Brings Sylvain's hand up, all so that he can press a lingering kiss to the center of that lance-roughened palm. Actions speak louder than words, in Felix's opinion; the meaning of this should be perfectly clear, and yet, after a quiet hum, Felix offers an even quieter:]
I missed you, too. [Which Sylvain should very well know, just like Sylvain should very well know that Felix is usually loath to say what is patently obvious. This is a concession—and it's followed by Felix cracking open his eyes, forcing himself to hold Sylvain's gaze as he brings that thumb back down to brush against his lips.] Welcome back.
[A hint of a smirk, then, before Felix sucks Sylvain's finger into his mouth, swiping his tongue along the pad of it. There's no lounging in bed... but there's this, at least. Felix goading Sylvain into wrecking him on this table.]