Dimitri watches, thoroughly enraptured by the journey of Byleth's face. Tickling him in the clutches of the haphazardly fallen equipment moments before had been . . . impulsive, for lack of a better word. His desires getting better of his caution. Though he'd been caught up in the joy of that moment, there'd been a bit of apprehension on his part, a small anxiety of rejection niggling at the back of his mind.
Byleth had asked for this, however. This trailing of Dimitri's fingers down his arm, settling comfortably in the untouched delicate region underneath. Byleth's lust clouded eyes had seemed almost vacant after their lips had parted, a look that Dimitri wanted to elicit from him again and again and again. The look of mild alarm and curiosity that followed as his arms were pinned, which then turned into delighted bewilderment were somehow even more entrancing, however. Dimitri only then realizes he's grinning, cheeks taut and burning with joy of his own. He can't remember the last time he was able to smile this unabashedly at anyone, and certainly never from this angle, on his own bed.
And the noises Byleth was making--oh the noises--they were so unlike Byleth's normal laughter, which was already a rare thing to behold, and never more than a small chuckle or a sharp exhale through the nose. It was unlike anything Dimitri had pictured Byleth's tickle-laugh to be, and yet somehow that made it so much better. His gasping and keening and struggling breaths were so genuine and unpracticed and new, and they filled Dimitri with a strange mixture of awe as well as unbridled lust.
"Have you never been--uh--had this done to you before?" Dimitri struggled to say the word out loud, even as he experimented with different strokes on Byleth's exposed armpit, slow and fast, one finger and all fingers, skittering pads or trailing blunt nails, watching carefully to find exactly what elicited the biggest reaction.
no subject
Byleth had asked for this, however. This trailing of Dimitri's fingers down his arm, settling comfortably in the untouched delicate region underneath. Byleth's lust clouded eyes had seemed almost vacant after their lips had parted, a look that Dimitri wanted to elicit from him again and again and again. The look of mild alarm and curiosity that followed as his arms were pinned, which then turned into delighted bewilderment were somehow even more entrancing, however. Dimitri only then realizes he's grinning, cheeks taut and burning with joy of his own. He can't remember the last time he was able to smile this unabashedly at anyone, and certainly never from this angle, on his own bed.
And the noises Byleth was making--oh the noises--they were so unlike Byleth's normal laughter, which was already a rare thing to behold, and never more than a small chuckle or a sharp exhale through the nose. It was unlike anything Dimitri had pictured Byleth's tickle-laugh to be, and yet somehow that made it so much better. His gasping and keening and struggling breaths were so genuine and unpracticed and new, and they filled Dimitri with a strange mixture of awe as well as unbridled lust.
"Have you never been--uh--had this done to you before?" Dimitri struggled to say the word out loud, even as he experimented with different strokes on Byleth's exposed armpit, slow and fast, one finger and all fingers, skittering pads or trailing blunt nails, watching carefully to find exactly what elicited the biggest reaction.