[His head tips to one side, his smirk flicking up: would you? And that's not fair either, you know. It's not fair to dangle little bits of information in front of Daniel's face; it's certainly not fair for him to play with him like he is. Pushing him just to see what he'll do, delighting in the bits and pieces of his thoughts that he can read . . .
Lustful, and oh, Daniel has the right of it. He would look good on his knees in front of Armand. Those big eyes glazed over in pleasure, pearl on his lips and Armand's fingers knotted in that mass of curls— the thought is pleasing. The thought of watching this intrepid little reporter struggle to speak each time Armand's cock was slipped past his lips, only to choke and cough and moan for how it was forced back in—
He blinks. Inhales a slow breath he doesn't need, and wonders if these contacts hide the dilation of his pupils.]
Do you think yourself subtle?
[It's not an insult.]
But perhaps I'm mistaken. What, then, are you doing here?
no subject
Lustful, and oh, Daniel has the right of it. He would look good on his knees in front of Armand. Those big eyes glazed over in pleasure, pearl on his lips and Armand's fingers knotted in that mass of curls— the thought is pleasing. The thought of watching this intrepid little reporter struggle to speak each time Armand's cock was slipped past his lips, only to choke and cough and moan for how it was forced back in—
He blinks. Inhales a slow breath he doesn't need, and wonders if these contacts hide the dilation of his pupils.]
Do you think yourself subtle?
[It's not an insult.]
But perhaps I'm mistaken. What, then, are you doing here?