Felix wonders if he's being cruel.
Sylvain's laid out below him like a package just waiting to be opened. He'd been unbearably handsome earlier, the top few buttons of his shirt undone and hanging open around his neck. Felix's hand found it easily, fingers slipping into to caress his collarbone.
For a man with little-to-no fashion sense, there's the rare day where Felix can't do anything but stare, mouth going dry at the sight. Wondering if the others around them see it too, watching how they stare before he slides in and stakes claim.
He's still getting used to the idea that Sylvain's his.
Especially now, laying underneath him, watching Felix through hooded eyes. Absurdly long eyelashes flutter as his breath hitches, hips chasing the warmth of Felix's hand. Felix stopped undressing him halfway, leaving Sylvain's chest free to show off that pretty blush. Then he pulled his hand away from Sylvain's tented briefs, cruelly.
Sylvain whimpers, a half-hearted little breath with annoyance curled into it.
"Not yet," says Felix, who's only fueled by the soft sounds that escape Sylvain. He drags a finger down to where Sylvain's cock is, hard and waiting, straining against the cotton insistently. Wanting more, like the impatient man that he is.
Felix huffs. "I told you, not yet," he says again. One finger becomes two, each dragging along a side of Sylvain, his cock trapped between. But still not enough pressure to be satisfying, to truly scratch that itch.
"Felix," says Sylvain, pink from his neck to his chest.
Beautiful, thinks Felix. Model-like without the bitchy cattiness that's so often seen in Felix's line of work. Sylvain's confident in his handsome looks but not afraid to let loose, not afraid to give into someone else.
Not afraid to lay back and take it. Felix can't believe his luck, can't believe that he can call this man his.
"Already desperate and we've barely begun," says Felix. He doesn't smile, he smirks, just a little quirk of his lips. Sylvain sees it and bites at his lip, overcome with heady excitement.
"More," says Sylvain.
Felix regards him quietly, taking his time. One finger this time, dragging along the left side of his length, just barely digging into the fabric when he reaches the tip. The response he gets is Sylvain letting out a low hiss and wetness spreading across the cotton. Like a damn teenager at times, already so close, already lost to it.
Felix pulls away then, watching Sylvain's cock twitch slightly at the loss of contact.
"No-" Sylvain loses words when Felix dips down, lips finding the meat of his thigh. Felix bites softly at the soft skin there, near the base of Sylvain's cock. But not close enough, Felix knows as he noses the hem of Sylvain's briefs. "I swear to the Goddess, Felix."
"Swear what?" asks Felix cooly. He plays with the edge of the soft cotton, pulling at it with his finger and letting it snap back into place.
"Not fair," says Sylvain, barely a grunt. He never answers the tough questions.
Felix chuckles against him, placing a soft little kiss where his briefs meet skin. "Absolutely fair," says Felix. "I watched you all day, everyone's eyes on you. Flirting with you. Making eyes and lingering touches. "
"What? They weren't-"
"They always are," cuts in Felix. "Every damn time."
"I come home with you," says Sylvain.
Felix smiles into the crease of Sylvain's groin, pressing a kiss there, lips lingering on the fabric covering his hip. "Should I reward you for that?"
Sylvain shudders at the prospect. Felix pulls back once more and climbs the length of his body, hand hovering over Sylvain's painful erection.
"Patience is a virtue," says Felix, teasing. His finger is pressed against Sylvain again, dragging along the cotton with more force. Up and around the crown, before down again. Sylvain's hips lift, trying to add friction, trying to feel as much as he can. Felix knows that the drag of the fabric is just enough to drive him crazy.
"I wonder, can you come undone just like this?" Felix looks at Sylvain seriously, waiting for him to protest, to say no, to call an end to this. Sylvain doesn't; his eyes are wide and he nods, short and quick.
"I think," says Sylvain.
Felix hums at that, resuming his touch. Maddening in its soft-handed nature, but Sylvain responds so well. Minutes pass, Felix teasing with the way that he changes the pace and pressure. Sylvain's putty in his hands with the way that his back arches off the mattress, begging for more.
Felix recognizes this, recognizes the frantic movements of his hips and how his breath speeds up. Ridiculous. Sylvain always answers so well, always does exactly what's asked of him.
This is no exception.
Felix twists his fingers around the tip of Sylvain's cock, and the fabric there before his grip slips down again. Then he makes a ring with his index finger and thumb, squeezing tightly around the base.
Sylvain lets out an undignified squeak as his impending orgasm is cut short.
"I'd prefer if you wait," says Felix, amused.
Sylvain has the gall to shoot him an incredulous look, partly an annoyed glare. But Felix knows he isn't angry, knows that he's all in as far as this is concerned. This isn't the first time this game's been played. Or the last.
"Felix," says Sylvain, his voice pitched low and desperate.
"Just a little bit more," says Felix softly.
Sylvain swallows and Felix watches his throat bob. "Okay," says Sylvain. "Yeah, okay, just a little bit more-" His words are choked off by a moan when Felix's hand finds him again, his finger a soft ghost of a movement that's still nearly too much.
"Beautiful," says Felix as he watches Sylvain squirm. "So perfect, underneath me like this. I've barely touched you and you're nearly there."
Sylvain whines, pressing closer to his hand, the praise going straight to his gut. Always a glutton for the compliments, a sucker for carefully worded acclaim. "Felix-" starts Sylvain.
"Is that all you can say?" asks Felix. "My name? Over and over, it's all I've heard." Felix loves it though, the way that Sylvain breathes and moans and punches out his name between gasping breaths. The way that Sylvain clings to it like it's a lifeline.
He's close again, Felix can feel the way that Sylvain's thighs clench underneath him, the way that his body goes rigid.
"Come here," asks Sylvain. Felix complies and Sylvain kisses him, mouth parting the moment their lips touch. His tongue slipping in and seeking his out, and then it's Felix's turn to moan, to press his hips closer.
They can take care of him later.
Felix moves to press his mouth near Sylvain's ear, face tucked into the crook of his neck. "There's something else that you can say, something that will put an end to this."
Sylvain whines pitifully, his cock twitching in Felix's grasp. "Please," he murmurs. Felix doesn't change his grip though, or the way that he touches him. It's still just that finger of his, carefully stroking along the cotton of Sylvain's briefs, forever frustrating.
"Please," Sylvain repeats, bucking his hips, trying to get his point across.
Felix was the kind of kid who played with his food when young. Sorting his peas and carrots, smooshing around his mashed potatoes.
This is no different, edging Sylvain for as long as he can manage. He isn't cruel; Sylvain loves this, relishes it, despite the pink and frustrated flush of his face. Despite the way that his hips wiggle around, trying to find relief.
And Goddess, Sylvain loves the praise. The kind words that Felix whispers into his ears only. Felix loves to watch how they sink deep into him, settling into his gut, pooling at the tip of his dick. Sylvain really is perfect like this, wanton and writhing against him.
Felix takes pity, finally, urged on by his own need to have Sylvain within him. He grips Sylvain's cock properly this time, his fingers still light-handed in their touch. Jerking up and down, pulling at the fabric that still traps his cock.
The effect is instant. Sylvain ruts into his hand and Felix can feel the heat of his length, even through his underwear. Sylvain's hand snakes into Felix's hair, pulling at it. The tug against his scalp burns but it's a small price to pay to watch Sylvain come completely undone with little more than a smooth-handed grasp.
It takes nothing for Sylvain to tip over the edge, careening into the ground. Felix feels his cock twitch as he comes, drenching the cotton of his briefs with his spend. Felix coaxes him through it, the thumb of his free hand smoothing over his high cheekbone as he holds Sylvain's face reverently.
"Shit," murmurs Sylvain, breathing heavily. "Shit," he groans, flopping back against the pillow, sinking into the soft down of it. Liquid and boneless in the afterglow of it all. Felix settles against this side, watching Sylvain's chest heave, watching the blush of his skin slowly disappear.
Watching Sylvain's handsome face as he comes down from his high.
And then Sylvain's hand slips into his pajama pants, finding Felix's cock and taking it gently into his hand. Then his hand sneaks around Felix's hip, gripping his ass cheek, a finger slipping between his crack-
For all his bravado of being the calm and collected one, it's unfair how little it takes to pull Felix to the edge. Sometimes he needs Sylvain like a starving man needs food, and nothing will curb that hunger deep in his gut.
But honestly, Sylvain's fingers in his ass will help quench that hunger.
Felix moves, rolling over him, legs slotted on either side of Sylvain's hips.
And Sylvain looks up at him, that blasted mouth of his curled into a knowing smirk. "Are you ready?" he asks him, fingers teasing Felix's hole, just barely pressing in.
A challenge then, one that Felix is determined to keep victory in. He leans over, licking a stripe along Sylvain's jaw. And then he says into his ear, "Do your worst."