[ Claude doesn't as such have any insecurities concerning his body. He's used to staring in the mirror and finding fault with himself from early in the morning till midnight, but he also recognizes that he's objectively very good-looking with a nicely defined muscle mass, symmetrical features and, he's been told, a contagious laugh. All good; he knows he looks great once he's out of his clothes, nevertheless he feels the jitters move right in as they finally find themselves in the bedroom, Jean Louis and him, at opposite ends of the smallish bed, with only a few metres between them. He's nervous. About what the other man will think - of the sleeping accommodations that he can offer, of him, damn it.
Slowly he works on unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging out of the fabric easily, the muscles in his shoulders working at the simple movement. Claude isn't a neat freak, he doesn't need everything to lie tidily in its place and his bedroom especially shows for it, so he drops the shirt to the floor and starts on his trousers, unzipping and pushing them down over his hips. They are agonizingly slow to slide down his thighs. Not until he's standing there in socks and briefs does he really give it thought, what he's actually expecting might happen now. They haven't properly discussed the situation after their kiss and maybe they should have, but it never came up naturally and Claude hates to force these things, it's not supposed to be uncomfortable. What does he expect? That they sleep together? That they don't?
Glancing quickly over at Jean Louis who looks out of place with the heavy desk behind him and the old-fashioned, white-painted arm chairs on either side, the bed on his right, Claude watches him furtively like a schoolboy, it seems a given, that it'll be up to him. This entire night has been his doing, after all, let the Minister get the final say. ]
starter ( date ) part III
Slowly he works on unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging out of the fabric easily, the muscles in his shoulders working at the simple movement. Claude isn't a neat freak, he doesn't need everything to lie tidily in its place and his bedroom especially shows for it, so he drops the shirt to the floor and starts on his trousers, unzipping and pushing them down over his hips. They are agonizingly slow to slide down his thighs. Not until he's standing there in socks and briefs does he really give it thought, what he's actually expecting might happen now. They haven't properly discussed the situation after their kiss and maybe they should have, but it never came up naturally and Claude hates to force these things, it's not supposed to be uncomfortable. What does he expect? That they sleep together? That they don't?
Glancing quickly over at Jean Louis who looks out of place with the heavy desk behind him and the old-fashioned, white-painted arm chairs on either side, the bed on his right, Claude watches him furtively like a schoolboy, it seems a given, that it'll be up to him. This entire night has been his doing, after all, let the Minister get the final say. ]