![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[for romain]
[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.
Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.
He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]
Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.
He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]
no subject
He won't lose himself completely, though. His hand is still deft and precise, adding touches that keep it from just being a basic up-and-down pumping motion; he'll twist a little here, slide his thumb around the sensitive areas of the head on the occasional upstroke, squeeze lightly at the base before slackening as he moves upward, varying just enough to complement the steady pace rather than breaking it in any way that might diminish the building pleasure.]
Tu es merveilleux, Romain... [It's murmured with a little smile, light enough not to sound like any kind of deep, inappropriate confession; Ghyslain's not in love, just delighted with Romain's eagerness and how he keeps giving himself over more and more to what's happening.]
no subject
C'est trop bon. Trop bon - [A whimper here and there, hissing through his lips whenever his hips jerk involuntarily, steadying himself right after to counter the movement of the hand. It's just about the best handjob he can remember getting for a long while, all those details slipped in between the regular strokes. Ghyslain's hand is - it's delicate. That's the word that's been missing, and it's perfect to describe everything about him. His beauty, his movements, his words. If he didn't have enough experience he'd probably have come ten seconds into it. Maybe not even that long.] Do you - do you want me to do - anything -
no subject
Do? What can he do? He's doing everything, he's so gorgeous and consumed by the simplest act Ghyslain could have pulled out of his arsenal. This is incredible. But he licks his lips thoughtfully, gives Romain one of those effortlessly incisive looks, before deciding that he can handle a bit of reciprocation from Romain without breaking apart himself and ruining this.]
You could touch me. Not - not intimately. [He's just as breathless, really proving that his statement about this providing him as much pleasure as it would Romain was no lie.] Just put your hands on me. Where you like.
no subject
Oh - fuck - [Oop, swearing. Definitely another sign.] I'm coming, I'm coming -
[He sounds about as urgent as anyone would, pressing his eyes shut when he interrupts the kiss and freezes up completely, only to shoot his hips back into Ghyslain's grasp, ejaculating in a series of quick but strong spasms. Then he releases an incredibly long breath and falls back, chest heaving.]
... Oh man.
no subject
Oui, Romain, oui - [Not just breathless but gasping, so ready for him, and he lets out a tiny empathetic moan when he feels the damp, sticky heat spill over his hand again and again. It happened, it really worked - he got Romain off. He did it well, by the looks of things, well and truly and intensely. He's in awe of the aftermath, both the mess and the dazed awe mirrored on Romain's face.
He did it.]
Très beau. [It's already a thing between them, that statement, and it's all he can say right now. With that post-orgasm glow about him, flushed and sweaty and messy and gasping for breath, he's so incredibly lovely. It's practically short-circuited Ghyslain's brain.]
no subject
Oh, to be the object of attention. It's really nice. But in a totally manly way.]
I need... you need...
[He's still very mellow when he continues, hands barely able to move toward what he means. Does Ghyslain want him to-? He did tell him to pay attention, so -]
no subject
Still, one last check in.]
Es-tu prêt? [Physically ready, emotionally ready, mentally ready. He's looking out for himself now as much as Romain, because holy god, he does not want this to grind to a halt if Romain gets scared. He needs. Better he just take care of himself if that's what the situation demands.]
no subject
Honnêtement? Je n'ai aucune idée. Mais je - veux te voir.
[... Well, there goes that. His hand travels down, remarkably sure of where it's going, settling softly over his erection.]
Et tu es encore raide.
[And there goes that, too.]
Dis moi quoi faire?
no subject
Mon dieu, c'est... [No, focus. Give him instruction.] ...touchez moi. Là, partout, simplement - touchez moi, je t'en pries.
no subject
[Oh god. His reaction alone - it makes his heart speed up, suddenly glad he's too exhausted to even think about getting excited again. With some determination Romain makes an effort to push himself up and kiss the other boy again, now rolling on his side to make him lie down on his back. It's his turn, after all, so he should be as relaxed as Romain was. A little breathlessly:]
You're so hot.
[But in a manly way. Really. Let him just place his hand back right where it was and tentatively start putting some pressure on his crotch, indulging him in that for a while before he starts to unbutton his pants. This is okay, right? He doesn't have to ask.]
no subject
You're so hot.
That's when it clicks, when he realizes that Romain is doing this out of desire as much as obligation or curiosity. As soon as his hand settles again, Ghyslain starts to roll and arch into it, head nearly thrashing back and forth with the immensity of how good it feels. There's a huge weight behind this encounter, not false emotional attachment but so much more, and it's making everything so much more intense that he can barely stand it.]
Ah, Romain... [He's not objecting to having his clothes unfastened, not by a longshot. He just sounds stunned by the initiative, and still so pleading.]
no subject
Oui...
[- he lowers himself to kiss Ghyslain again. As lovely as his sounds are, he really wants to feel those lips on his own again, so plush, so soft. There's a conscious effort not to compare them to a girl's, but it's inevitable when he does anyway. It helps make this experience more familiar in the neutrality of offering pleasure rather than what gender he's offering it to.]
Dis-moi si tu n'aimez pas.
[Another reassurance that he wants the boy beneath him to enjoy it, just before his hand pushes inside his pants, still not quite prepared to make direct contact. It's just about the same he does every time he uses his hand, though: stimulate with some kind barrier over it, building anticipation until he finally provides some kind of relief in reaching a peak of touch.]
no subject
It is impossible, I - oh! [And his back is arching again, hips rolling into the almost-touch, that sound almost a cry. He squeezes his eyes shut, mouth falling open as his hands suddenly fly into action and start to reach frantically for Romain; he manages to grip a sleeve just below the shoulder, fist closing tight around it. His face is absolutely contorted with pleasure.]
Non, c'est - c'est bon, c'est si bon, n'arretes pas...
no subject
Okay. He can do this. Just - keep it simple. Ghyslain knows this is his first handjob to another guy, so he can't expect to have his world rocked. Just your standard boring pumping for now.]
no subject
Just the standard is good. It's brilliant. He used all the tricks he did because he knew he was working past a lot of mental barriers that would show themselves physically, but he has no such thing - he wants this so badly he could cry, and now it's happening, and all he can do is feel his body jerk into the pumping of Romain's hand and listen to the pathetic little sounds coming from himself. There's no worry about coming too fast, no shame, because Romain can't possibly have any expectation for how this will go. This isn't a test on which he'll be graded and given the treatment he's earned himself, or a lesson for a nervous boy who wants to impress. It's just pleasure.
Just pure, perfect pleasure.]
Romain, baise-moi, s'il vous plait... [His voice is higher than usual, strung tight with arousal that's pulling tighter every second, and he's clinging to the front of Romain's shirt now. He wants the taste of Romain on his lips, even if it is heavy with alcohol right now, one last time before he comes.
no subject
He's barely doing anything worthwhile, and yet here he is, coming apart at the seams. But if he wants a kiss, Romain is absolutely going to give him one. As many as he likes, in fact. He leans down quickly and their mouths connect, kissing hungrily, sucking on his lips and pushing his tongue against his. This might just be their best kiss so far, if just because of how delighting it is for the both of them.]
Tu es là? Ghyslain, [He breathes, freezes a little just to watch his features again, and then his hand jerks faster than before, steady and swift.] Viens -
no subject
And then his voice, his words, and Ghyslain comes as though he really is following orders: instantaneous, hard, whole body shivering as the orgasm moves through him. Romain's name comes out on the edge of a cry, just before he collapses back into the bed with a gulping breath in and a shuddering one out.
He's a mess. His pants really didn't come off. But the discomfort is the last thing on his mind, because his whole body is still humming and Romain is still there and panic has yet to set in. (It's telling of how he thinks that there's a yet there, but it's just a tiny, quiet worry for now.)]
Romain... [It feels like all he can say anymore. Now it's a low, hoarse breath, totally different from his shrill voice on the way up, matched by heavy-lidded eyes. He's more in awe than ever.] ... merci.
no subject
So he stops, and, more out of instinct than any deliberate provocation, runs his fingers up the length of his cock to squeeze around the crown, pushing a couple more droplets out. Then he just lets his hand rest there, between his legs, until he lowers his head and rolls off and down on his back.]
Merci?
[His chest isn't heaving, but it's close. His hand is filthy and he definitely feels it, but he's past caring about getting the sheets dirty. Smiling. He's smiling.]
Elle doit être la première fois que quelqu'un me remercie.
no subject
I feel - you have given me something. So I thank you.
[He's only got one clean hand as well, but he's able to shift so that he can use it to comb through Romain's hair again. He liked that, right?]
Ouais. Merci.
no subject
Well. Merci to you too.
[can he sleep now. is that allowed.]
no subject
- go change and wash his hands, tbh. Then he'll climb in as well, close to Romain without actually holding him. That's a whole different line to cross.]
no subject
And then morning comes, and he barely even realizes where he is because he's got his body tucked against the other boy's and he's too comfortable to move away.
Until he remembers what happened before he fells asleep. and... yeah. his hand. oh god, his hand.
no sudden movements. but what does he do now?]
no subject
No, he wasn't blackout drunk. But he definitely didn't expect Romain still to be here when he awoke.]
... Romain? [A tiny whisper. Is he awake?]
no subject
Yeah - [he chokes, then clears his throat within three seconds.] I'm here.
[and yeah, he's surprised about that too.]
Didn't mean to wake you up. [but he's glad he did, so he can disentangle himself now.]
no subject
I can make it dark. [Still whispering, eyes still closed.] In the hallway. Like a - panne de courant, when the lights die. No one will see you.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)