I'm always quiet, [ tseng says in response. rufus knows that—rufus knows better than anyone that tseng tends towards reticence, that he chooses his words carefully so he doesn't need to say more than strictly necessary. it means that rufus' observation on his silence now is a musing on whether or not he wants tseng to stay that way, and the bite of rufus' nails against the muscle of his shoulder is more than likely a bid to earn a sound from tseng.
there's a temptation to swallow back his noises, just for the sake of riling rufus a little—obedient, but not cowed. nails against his skin are not a direct order, after all, and so tseng has no reason to obey.
but he has no reason not to, either, and so he lets rufus hear the sound those scratches earn—a hiss, a quiet noise in the back of his throat that's half pain and half pleasure. it hurts, but the pain feels good in a way tseng isn't thinking too hard about as he drops his hands to rufus' tailored slacks to start to undo the button and zip. handle it.
when he slips his hand into the front of rufus' slacks to curl around the shape of his cock, he finds him—not quite hard, not that tseng expected he would be, but stirring with interest nonetheless, the shape of him firm and familiar against tseng's palm. his other hand stays where it is, playing with rufus' nipple; the other rubs over rufus' cock through the fine material of his underwear, not teasing as much as he is exploring (but if he teases a little, well, so be it). ]
no subject
there's a temptation to swallow back his noises, just for the sake of riling rufus a little—obedient, but not cowed. nails against his skin are not a direct order, after all, and so tseng has no reason to obey.
but he has no reason not to, either, and so he lets rufus hear the sound those scratches earn—a hiss, a quiet noise in the back of his throat that's half pain and half pleasure. it hurts, but the pain feels good in a way tseng isn't thinking too hard about as he drops his hands to rufus' tailored slacks to start to undo the button and zip. handle it.
when he slips his hand into the front of rufus' slacks to curl around the shape of his cock, he finds him—not quite hard, not that tseng expected he would be, but stirring with interest nonetheless, the shape of him firm and familiar against tseng's palm. his other hand stays where it is, playing with rufus' nipple; the other rubs over rufus' cock through the fine material of his underwear, not teasing as much as he is exploring (but if he teases a little, well, so be it). ]