Zevran had long since learned to make a show of this- knew how to twist to offer the best view from any angle. Subtle things in the cant of his hips and the twist of his wrist to offer the entirety of his sweat-slick skin for his partner's enjoyment. Habit. Training. Instinct by now and he couldn't keep from doing so even if he wished to. But there was an honesty in the sharp catch of his breath at Michel's fingers slipping along his cock. Heat lanced through him in a vicious strike like lightening, crackling under his skin, tipping his head back as his spine bowed against the force of it. Teasing. Teasing touches and Michel did not even know what it was to be a tease.

No small part of Zevran prayed that it wouldn't change.

His hips snapped sharply against Michel's grip, chasing after them in a helpless, instinctual gesture for more. More friction more contact, more calloused fingers that were growing familiar every night they did this. Callouses he felt even curling within- Michel's fingers longer, thicker than his own and better for it. Zevran abandoned preparing himself entirely, slick hand slipping out to hold Michel's wrist still as he rocked back against him. Eyes closed to mere slits he was surprised into gasping at the brush of Michel's hand against his mouth, lips parting, tongue curling around his fingers to tease, to suck, to graze with his teeth-

To moan around when his body went tight around his fingertips at that brush against his prostate.