The rough hand that pulled his hair, and in turn his head, back was admittedly something more pleasant than painful for Gaius. He enjoyed rough handling, even if gentleness was a little more on the strange side, but it drove a chill down his spin and he could feel that warmth in his body bloom further across his skin. It was exciting, the way Lon’qu looked at him, marveling at the mess he was in. A grin he wore almost as regularly as his cloak and headband was spread across his face, freckles obvious against burning crescendos of his body, and a pride that rolled off his body with ease.
Lon’qu’s own expression is... is something else. It’s beautiful in and of itself, the way he seems so dazed and Gaius can see the desire as plainly as the blush on his face. There’s affection there, too, sweet and loving and the way his hands move down his body are soft and gentle, too. The thief does nothing to combat it, as he’s sure giving Lon’qu the reigns for most of this is better than rushing him along. Gaius is fine no matter how this progresses, carnal desires and the general folly of human nature is something he revels in with immense delight. It’s still strange, in some aspects, but he’s come to reason that most of this will be new to him-- the way Lon’qu gives and takes pleasure in an act like this is different from what he’s done before.
His heart is in it, which startles Gaius just a little more than he’d like to think. He’s trying not to think, he wishes Lon’qu was kissing him silly or was leaving pretty little bruises on his neck. It’s much easier to just soak in the physicality of this act, rather than fiddle with his heart and the heart of another. As strange ( and perhaps frightening ) as it is, though, Gaius softens in the warrior’s hands and that wild smirk and devilish desire preens to something more gentle, something more earnest.
As his body moves down, he sighs when he’s seated in the myrmidon’s lap, the light pressure and closeness of their bodies making him feel warmer. Gaius takes the moment to press kisses against the man’s cheek, partially to hide his own anxiety and to sooth it all at once. Gaius wishes he was rougher, wishes Lon’qu would simply make a mess of him-- that’s what he knows, what he understands. As much as he enjoys exploring the world and its altogether mischievous people, exploring the deepest crevice of himself is something he’d prefer to leave in private. It’s hard to share yourself with someone, especially when you’re so used to simply taking and leaving.
Gaius doesn’t want to see the sweetness in the warrior’s face, he doesn’t want to hear the softness and hesitance in his voice-- and yet he still can. He’d rather keep himself buried and rutting against the man’s solid form, but he betrays himself in sight of better judgement. Despite the way his belly flops and twists, he enjoys the sight he’s greeted with-- the disheveled hair and the beautiful burn of crimson on brown skin, the hooded eyes of his beloved, handsome champion.
It’s not a long look, but it’s enjoy for Gaius to burn the image in his memory, to print the curve of his cheek bones and the desire laden expression into his thoughts. Lon’qu’s voice is quiet, a deep rumble and so close to him he feels his body shiver just slightly, his back arching to press himself a little closer and roll his hips against the man as he speaks. It’s almost difficult to process what he says, but Gaius snags the words at their tail-ends quick enough to understand. The purr of the myrmidon’s voice still earns triumph in some asks, a soft groan can be heard from the thief as he lets the man continue speaking.
❝I’m definitely not sorry.❞
Bluntly answered, but true, Gaius is nothing close to sorry. He’s enjoying this, reveling in it. With how flustered his dear champion can become, he’s surprised Lon’qu let him get this far. Not to say that the thief doesn’t notice his hesitance, and the stammering in his voice is another clear message to him. It touches his heart in a way many things don’t that the other man seems to trust him this way, especially when Gaius can infer this kind of act is special to him.
❝I’d enjoy it if you lost your composure like this more often.❞
A teasing remark that’s followed by a soft chuckle, but just as truthful as the one before. If anything, Gaius would prefer he lose even more of his restraints to the point where Lon’qu dominates him entirely, but such the wishes of a vulgar conman can’t all come true. His voice softens before he speaks again, though his thoughts momentarily derailed when the man presses his hips against his own. He keens in the palms of the other man, sighing and hoping Lon’qu will have him as he pleases-- it’s the best he can offer, a truly noble man can’t compare to someone who’s made his rounds and gotten his hands too dirty for any sort of living. The thief gathers his wits as quick as he can, leaning back to speak in earnest.
❝You know, cupcake,
as much as I’d love for ya’ to ruin me and all,
if you want to stop-- I don’t mind.❞
Gaius punctuates the statement with an earnest kiss, his hands curling around the soldier’s neck, hoping to convey some comfort and sincerity. While he’s not entirely used to putting love into an act like this, he can see that Lon’qu is ( he can feel it, too; in the way he holds him and in those stormy eyes of his ). It’s likely he’ll fumble in this aspect, as a thief such as himself prefers to have a sense of practiced grace-- but this, he doesn’t quite have much of a grasp on. In a world like this, nothing comes freely, and in the way his heart drums and he sees a man too handsome to stand beside himself in his dreams, it would be cruel to Lon’qu and himself if he did not offer the same sense of young love.
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