[ His lips part and his head angles slightly to deepen the kiss. His other hand, the one not currently splayed against the small of the man’s back, comes up to mirror Wriothesley‘s own hold, but in the dark locks as he tips the man’s head back slightly, holding him right where he wants him.
The feeling of him grinding against Sylvain’s thigh makes him smile as he presses in against him, his own arousal caught against Wriothesley‘s hip. And the torso the man’s fingers find hidden beneath his shirt is toned and muscled, the result of a soldier’s physique - someone used to wielding heavy weapons, wearing plate armor, and doing most of his battle on horseback. He’ll no doubt skim across several scars, as well, since Sylvain’s flesh is littered with them. The result of having spent the better part of half a decade at war now, and before that…
Well. Let’s just say he had a lot of scars and leave it at that. ]
no subject
The feeling of him grinding against Sylvain’s thigh makes him smile as he presses in against him, his own arousal caught against Wriothesley‘s hip. And the torso the man’s fingers find hidden beneath his shirt is toned and muscled, the result of a soldier’s physique - someone used to wielding heavy weapons, wearing plate armor, and doing most of his battle on horseback. He’ll no doubt skim across several scars, as well, since Sylvain’s flesh is littered with them. The result of having spent the better part of half a decade at war now, and before that…
Well. Let’s just say he had a lot of scars and leave it at that. ]