Most people might not be particularly interested in pursuit of that shift. After all, despite the mystery, there have been some clearly defined lines here about who's in control and depending on the person and the headspace, suddenly deciding that wasn't what was happening could be outright cruel at worst and at best simply mood breaking. But Gustavain isn't at all most people and he doesn't even so much as falter.

It does take him a minute to even really notice, however, desperate for this. There's an edge that needs to be dulled and his motions are almost frantic at first, needy and heedless of anything else. He startles when Phillip's fingers twine with his against Phillip's hip, looks up at him curiously without moving very far, pulls just far enough up to get a better, quizzical sort of look for a moment, but doesn't quite let him slip out of his mouth. And then something about his expression softens, abruptly, and the slide back down is slower, more measured, the moan that comes with it low and purring, like he's more savoring a treat than giving a frantic blow job in a supply closet.