Vincent trails off before he's even truly gotten started. Claude watches him; watches him looking and he would recognise that expression on most faces, although few bear it quite as beautifully as this man. There's hesitancy chiselled into his features, uncertainty in his gaze and Claude thinks he knows how the other man must be feeling, because he's felt the entire onslaught himself, too. Once. The first time Antonin kissed him. The first time Claude sucked Antonin off. The give and take game, although in this society whose yoke they can't ever shake off fully, it'll always be on unfair terms, because they'll always find themselves having to gratefully accept whatever comes their way. Everything they're given. He went from Ludovic to Pavel, he recognises the difference. Frowning slightly, he cocks his head, wets his lips, holds onto the words only long enough to accept that they may earn him a fist to the face. No training tomorrow, no rehearsals, he can deal with a black eye, if it comes to that... He'd be surprised. Vincent doesn't seem the violent type, although there's definitely potential for force somewhere inside. Perhaps he's not the type you'd like to catch in a corner. Or perhaps, he's just the type you would.
"Would you mind if I kissed you?"
So, he blurts it out as if it isn't an important question. As if it weren't loaded. Vincent has an amazing mouth - his built, long and lean, lends itself to striking lines and his lips aren't much different. Somewhat thin, but sharply emphasised. Every quirk stark, like a contrast on its own. Claude has been watching those two perfect parallels part all night as they've stuffed themselves with cheese and although he's been good, although he hasn't entertained the thought, he has a certain collection of mental images to choose from. Of Vincent's lips opening to something else. His tongue, his cock, he'd find it difficult to pick only one. With the question posed, in a relatively friendly, relatively warm voice, Claude proceeds to just stand there. Holding Vincent's gaze and waiting for his cue. He has training, one must assume. It's the world they live in.
no subject
"Would you mind if I kissed you?"
So, he blurts it out as if it isn't an important question. As if it weren't loaded. Vincent has an amazing mouth - his built, long and lean, lends itself to striking lines and his lips aren't much different. Somewhat thin, but sharply emphasised. Every quirk stark, like a contrast on its own. Claude has been watching those two perfect parallels part all night as they've stuffed themselves with cheese and although he's been good, although he hasn't entertained the thought, he has a certain collection of mental images to choose from. Of Vincent's lips opening to something else. His tongue, his cock, he'd find it difficult to pick only one. With the question posed, in a relatively friendly, relatively warm voice, Claude proceeds to just stand there. Holding Vincent's gaze and waiting for his cue. He has training, one must assume. It's the world they live in.