[Honestly - his words and actions don't often line up. But he's been trying to be more honest with those he cares about, those he loves; of which Byleth is one of the very few. And if openly showing how flustered all this has him helps to accomplish that goal, then so be it.
Besides, it's kind of nice to be able to just let go, to stop posturing in a situation like this. Sure, there's the urgency of having to work Byleth back into physical existence, but... they're managing that, slowly but surely, with every touch, every intoxicating, feather-light drag of fingers over his skin.
He doesn't even quite know where the lines between affection and desire begin and end for the two of them. It feels like, once, there was a stark line drawn between them, but the more time they spent together, the more they fought side by side, the more they learned about one another... the longer they've spent here... the more the solid ground the line was drawn in shifted, turned to sand, until the tides and the winds of time all but erased it.
That should be terrifying, to someone - something - like him.
Oddly enough, it isn't.
If anything, the thrill of it is the sort that sparks under his skin with each touch, makes him crave more of it. It shouldn't be this intoxicating to simply be open and honest with someone, but... so it goes.
At least he doesn't have a chance to think about it as Byleth's tongue drags over his still-clothed cock slowly enough that he both gasps and tenses at the sudden, more intense sensation, and also shudders as he relaxes into it. He does it again, and Sylvain groans, looking down at him through heavy lashes, eyes half-lidded. And being stared at like that, like Byleth is fully intending to pick him apart bit by bit is... a lot, and he takes a steadying breath preemptively.]
Yeah? Why's that?
[Should he have asked? Does he actually want to know the answer? Probably not, but the words had come before he could stop himself.]
no subject
Besides, it's kind of nice to be able to just let go, to stop posturing in a situation like this. Sure, there's the urgency of having to work Byleth back into physical existence, but... they're managing that, slowly but surely, with every touch, every intoxicating, feather-light drag of fingers over his skin.
He doesn't even quite know where the lines between affection and desire begin and end for the two of them. It feels like, once, there was a stark line drawn between them, but the more time they spent together, the more they fought side by side, the more they learned about one another... the longer they've spent here... the more the solid ground the line was drawn in shifted, turned to sand, until the tides and the winds of time all but erased it.
That should be terrifying, to someone - something - like him.
Oddly enough, it isn't.
If anything, the thrill of it is the sort that sparks under his skin with each touch, makes him crave more of it. It shouldn't be this intoxicating to simply be open and honest with someone, but... so it goes.
At least he doesn't have a chance to think about it as Byleth's tongue drags over his still-clothed cock slowly enough that he both gasps and tenses at the sudden, more intense sensation, and also shudders as he relaxes into it. He does it again, and Sylvain groans, looking down at him through heavy lashes, eyes half-lidded. And being stared at like that, like Byleth is fully intending to pick him apart bit by bit is... a lot, and he takes a steadying breath preemptively.]
Yeah? Why's that?
[Should he have asked? Does he actually want to know the answer? Probably not, but the words had come before he could stop himself.]
I like this side of you, too.