[ That grip in his hair rewards Sylvain with a louder noise this time, pleased as he is that his not quite a suggestion was taken there. If it causes him to lightly dig in his fingernails on Sylvain's lower back where his hand rests, well. That's just a convenient bonus.
It's enough for him to shift one of his legs looped through the other's, using it as leverage to roll Sylvain onto his back after moving a hand to cradle his head that miniscule distance back onto the pillow. There's a routine here of sorts that's easy to fall into even if in the back of his mind, doubts still pull at the corners of it.
Too many things left unsaid, too many unasked questions about whatever this is - all ones Claude knows he should find answers to sooner rather than later. Time here isn't guaranteed, much as he'd fooled himself into thinking it was before everything. Before Felix came and went, before they'd been abducted, before Marianne's time was just as fleeting, before Petra was here and then wasn't. All of it collides into something making it his turn to bury his fingers in hair and fabric.
Something that tells on him far too much, he's sure, but now's enough as he wills the feeling away to make room for everything else. Sylvain's in the present and solid beneath him, and he breaks away even with the hand in his hair to apply his lips to the other's neck, intent on leaving some kind of proof they were both here. ]
no subject
It's enough for him to shift one of his legs looped through the other's, using it as leverage to roll Sylvain onto his back after moving a hand to cradle his head that miniscule distance back onto the pillow. There's a routine here of sorts that's easy to fall into even if in the back of his mind, doubts still pull at the corners of it.
Too many things left unsaid, too many unasked questions about whatever this is - all ones Claude knows he should find answers to sooner rather than later. Time here isn't guaranteed, much as he'd fooled himself into thinking it was before everything. Before Felix came and went, before they'd been abducted, before Marianne's time was just as fleeting, before Petra was here and then wasn't. All of it collides into something making it his turn to bury his fingers in hair and fabric.
Something that tells on him far too much, he's sure, but now's enough as he wills the feeling away to make room for everything else. Sylvain's in the present and solid beneath him, and he breaks away even with the hand in his hair to apply his lips to the other's neck, intent on leaving some kind of proof they were both here. ]