From then on, Gustavain may as well be doomed. The hands that find his body are firm and sure, the one on his hip steering their bodies closer while the other immediately digs into the hair on his nape, maneuvering his head easily to deepen the kiss. His mouth is hardly idle either, lips parting enough to allow tongues to meet, exploring the other with a practiced ease.

It's all a little too easy in a way, from how one of the man's thighs slides just so between his legs to how the hand on his neck slides down to jaw, thumbing over the smooth line of it. Even when he pulls back from the kiss, his mouth finds his way down to tender skin to nip and then turn to slow pressure, cheeky and possessive all in one.