He might have been told to keep his hands in place for the time being, but there was nothing in such instructions that suggested he couldn't move his hands...and he rather liked where they were...this did not mean he couldn't roll his body up just enough to press his lips gently to the side of his companion's neck. He certainly appreciated this side of Zevran, whether it was a show or if there was something genuine in it, he caught on to the needs of others quickly, at least in this respect. Michel did not know what Zevran's needs were, but he made an effort to express that there was nothing unbalanced about it, he was appreciative, not entitled.

"Most privileged individuals view everything around them as their right by birth--without realizing that it all comes with a very specific set of obligations...the fault is more my own...such dalliances, I..." Michel shook his head, perhaps that was too much conversation? He wasn't certain, but he knew that it was his own devotion to his responsibilities that left him in denial of pleasures. Of course it also didn't help that Zevran's wandering fingers drew a calculated sigh from his lips. Strong as he was, he never felt weaker than when those fingers touched him, it was for that very reason he wanted more of it. So when instructed to do so Michel did not hesitate to strip out of what clothing remained to him.

Climbing into the bed with Zevran, he paused for a moment, kneeling at his side long enough to take his face in one hand, kissing the elf thoroughly, before withdrawing and sliding, fluidly, into place.