[A kiss to his knee brightens the flushing in his cheeks. He ought to be glowing in the darkness of the room by now. Orange is careful with the way he brushes his fingers through Blanc's hair. No mattedness here, no warmth from being under a wig all day. The way he wears it signifies his station certainly, and also his freedom. There are no constraints here (there are but that's why he's a thief, right?)]
You are worthy, Blanc.
[Alfred's breath hitches. A single touch makes his eyes shut with rapture. That it is Lawrence doing the touching multiplies his pleasure a dozen times.] More.
[He can't bring himself to actually say he wishes to be buggered.]
no subject
You are worthy, Blanc.
[Alfred's breath hitches. A single touch makes his eyes shut with rapture. That it is Lawrence doing the touching multiplies his pleasure a dozen times.] More.
[He can't bring himself to actually say he wishes to be buggered.]