Dimitri searches Byleth's face, registering the final confirmation he needed that yes, Byleth actually, truly wanted this.
He twists the handle behind him and opens the door, pulling Byleth into the room. The room itself is not very fascinating; most of the decor was Dedue's doing, as he had a better eye for such a thing. Dimitri was just happy to have the necessities--although, at the moment, he was very glad for the ridiculously large bed that occupied the space. "Fit for a king", he'd always been told.
Although now, looking at the flushed face that looked up at him so expectantly, he supposed it was probably more suited for an Archbishop at the moment.
He takes Byleth's face in his hands again, and barely hesitates before kissing him, even deeper than before. The previous kisses were clumsy from apprehension--this one was clumsy with need. He pushes Byleth to the bed, gently, but this time he doesn't care that his erection is pressing into the smaller man's body. He wants him to know that this turns him on. His anxiety and nervousness is finally outweighed by the carnal need to touch him, to kiss him, to ravage him . . . to tickle him.
The backs of Byleth's knees hit the bed, and Byleth deftly adjusts his position until he's fully laying on the bed, Dimitri following closely, lips never more than a centimeter from one another. Once atop Byleth, Dimitri finally breaks the kiss, breathing hot and heavy. A glint alights in his eye, and the corner of his mouth twitches.
"Allow me to show you what you asked for." He moves more gently and slowly this time, allowing Byleth ample room to protest if need be. Dimitri gathers Byleth's hands and positions them above his head, not stretched out completely, but at a comfortable angle, so Dimitri can hold both his wrists with one hand. With his other, he begins to trail his fingers down Byleth's wrist, over his sleeve, and down his arm, tickling lightly and slowly, inching towards the hollows of his armpits. He doesn't need to watch his hands--he's too busy watching the face of the man beneath him, so vulnerable and so beautiful.
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He twists the handle behind him and opens the door, pulling Byleth into the room. The room itself is not very fascinating; most of the decor was Dedue's doing, as he had a better eye for such a thing. Dimitri was just happy to have the necessities--although, at the moment, he was very glad for the ridiculously large bed that occupied the space. "Fit for a king", he'd always been told.
Although now, looking at the flushed face that looked up at him so expectantly, he supposed it was probably more suited for an Archbishop at the moment.
He takes Byleth's face in his hands again, and barely hesitates before kissing him, even deeper than before. The previous kisses were clumsy from apprehension--this one was clumsy with need. He pushes Byleth to the bed, gently, but this time he doesn't care that his erection is pressing into the smaller man's body. He wants him to know that this turns him on. His anxiety and nervousness is finally outweighed by the carnal need to touch him, to kiss him, to ravage him . . . to tickle him.
The backs of Byleth's knees hit the bed, and Byleth deftly adjusts his position until he's fully laying on the bed, Dimitri following closely, lips never more than a centimeter from one another. Once atop Byleth, Dimitri finally breaks the kiss, breathing hot and heavy. A glint alights in his eye, and the corner of his mouth twitches.
"Allow me to show you what you asked for." He moves more gently and slowly this time, allowing Byleth ample room to protest if need be. Dimitri gathers Byleth's hands and positions them above his head, not stretched out completely, but at a comfortable angle, so Dimitri can hold both his wrists with one hand. With his other, he begins to trail his fingers down Byleth's wrist, over his sleeve, and down his arm, tickling lightly and slowly, inching towards the hollows of his armpits. He doesn't need to watch his hands--he's too busy watching the face of the man beneath him, so vulnerable and so beautiful.