[ with hardly any space between them, it would be impossible for tseng not to pick up on the small cues of rufus' body, the pitch of his breathing and the heat of his flush. he has seen rufus in any number of states—angry, afraid, injured—but never pleasured like this, has never heard that particular hitch in the way rufus breathes as tseng's fingers rub over the sensitive place just below head of his cock. it's... compelling, one could say. (addictive, one could say.)
so he keeps his hands where they are even as they kiss again, which allows tseng to taste as well as hear the almost-inaudible little sounds rufus makes, not moans, just something in the back of his throat that's a little fuller than a breath. when they pull apart, tseng almost regrets it, at least until rufus' lips press high to his cheekbone so he can murmur directly into tseng's ear.
it is a curious order. one tseng obeys, of course, but a curious one, until rufus' fingers hook through the belt loops on tseng's jeans and he uses the full breadth of his body to guide tseng back toward the bed. he's immediately aware of the optics, of what it means for rufus to lead him there with little more contact between them than tseng's hand curled around his erection and rufus' finger through a loop of fabric.
a transparent power play, and one to which tseng has no objection. he does, however, shift his grip just slightly so that his thumb can rub an easy circle right over the slit at the tip of rufus' cock. ]
no subject
so he keeps his hands where they are even as they kiss again, which allows tseng to taste as well as hear the almost-inaudible little sounds rufus makes, not moans, just something in the back of his throat that's a little fuller than a breath. when they pull apart, tseng almost regrets it, at least until rufus' lips press high to his cheekbone so he can murmur directly into tseng's ear.
it is a curious order. one tseng obeys, of course, but a curious one, until rufus' fingers hook through the belt loops on tseng's jeans and he uses the full breadth of his body to guide tseng back toward the bed. he's immediately aware of the optics, of what it means for rufus to lead him there with little more contact between them than tseng's hand curled around his erection and rufus' finger through a loop of fabric.
a transparent power play, and one to which tseng has no objection. he does, however, shift his grip just slightly so that his thumb can rub an easy circle right over the slit at the tip of rufus' cock. ]