[This is the part where the slot machines become fairly unspecific in their design. They're in the coat closet, and his finger is without a doubt engaged with Sylvain's face, but outside of that there isn't a whole lot of context about how long or how far this needs to go in order to secure the payout he's after. Not that it's altogether unpleasant — rather the contrary, actually — but still. He wouldn't be Rufus Shinra if there weren't a part of him constantly keeping his eye on the prize.]
No cream for you, then.
[Since it seems like he's not inclined to bite, and that he's quickly picking up on the general idea, the hand that's holding Sylvain's jaw loosens and shifts, sliding around to rest at the back of his neck instead. The thumb in his mouth presses back against the explorations of his tongue, letting it tease for a few seconds before stroking back in kind.
It's not...hot, exactly, so much as it is suggestive — which he supposes is hot but in a more abstract sort of way. It's interesting, to say the least, and easy to read as a precursor to more if he thought there was any chance of this escalating — but that wasn't part of the deal, and who knows how far this might go, all told.]
no subject
No cream for you, then.
[Since it seems like he's not inclined to bite, and that he's quickly picking up on the general idea, the hand that's holding Sylvain's jaw loosens and shifts, sliding around to rest at the back of his neck instead. The thumb in his mouth presses back against the explorations of his tongue, letting it tease for a few seconds before stroking back in kind.
It's not...hot, exactly, so much as it is suggestive — which he supposes is hot but in a more abstract sort of way. It's interesting, to say the least, and easy to read as a precursor to more if he thought there was any chance of this escalating — but that wasn't part of the deal, and who knows how far this might go, all told.]