[ There's a finite time this can last as they race each other to a known destination, one they've written over and over in new ways to get there. One Claude pushes Sylvain towards with those pleas met with more praise, more encouragement, all of it to encourage that tension building. If his thrusts become slightly unfocused as the intensity of it sinks him into it, he thinks Sylvain will forgive him this when he drives him further back into the mattress, words failing him in favor of cries to match the ones he hears and that look of ecstasy on his face.
He's about to let go of one of Sylvain's wrists to reach for his cock to take it in hand but before he can, Sylvain comes with all that tension tightening around him even more on top of the beautiful sight it is to watch him come completely undone and that moan which says as much as him spilling. It's what drives him, finally, over that edge he'd been resisting when the knowledge of making Sylvain feel like this drags him there. Claude doesn't stand a chance against his own orgasm then after the delays over the night to end up with this moment of Sylvain unraveling beneath him in ways he doesn't think he'll ever tire of. With one last thrust to bottom out he spills into him and the other man's half-formed name on his lips.
After he stays buried in Sylvain, hips pressed to the other's to lift them slightly with each rock into him meant to draw out their pleasure as far and as long as it can possibly go with more gasps than actual sounds from them both until coming to a stop when it runs the risk of becoming too much. There's something else in the affection offered as he catches Sylvain for a kiss and then another. Something to be later clarified in an earring after a loss, but right now it's lost on him in favor of releasing his grip to wrap that previously pinned leg back around his waist, to brace himself on his forearms, then to breaking the kiss to lean a damp forehead against the other's while they both catch their breath in a haze. ]
no subject
He's about to let go of one of Sylvain's wrists to reach for his cock to take it in hand but before he can, Sylvain comes with all that tension tightening around him even more on top of the beautiful sight it is to watch him come completely undone and that moan which says as much as him spilling. It's what drives him, finally, over that edge he'd been resisting when the knowledge of making Sylvain feel like this drags him there. Claude doesn't stand a chance against his own orgasm then after the delays over the night to end up with this moment of Sylvain unraveling beneath him in ways he doesn't think he'll ever tire of. With one last thrust to bottom out he spills into him and the other man's half-formed name on his lips.
After he stays buried in Sylvain, hips pressed to the other's to lift them slightly with each rock into him meant to draw out their pleasure as far and as long as it can possibly go with more gasps than actual sounds from them both until coming to a stop when it runs the risk of becoming too much. There's something else in the affection offered as he catches Sylvain for a kiss and then another. Something to be later clarified in an earring after a loss, but right now it's lost on him in favor of releasing his grip to wrap that previously pinned leg back around his waist, to brace himself on his forearms, then to breaking the kiss to lean a damp forehead against the other's while they both catch their breath in a haze. ]
Told you there was a difference.
[ Peak wisdom right there. ]