[ Jean Louis doesn't buy into the idea which is okay, it's fine, it's what it is. Instead the other man leans into Claude's personal sphere, slowly, deliberately, it's something almost choreographed, how he stops only a few inches from Claude's face and looks at him, at the way he's struggling against his own reins. Claude can tell that Jean Louis can tell that he wants to kiss him, he can infer it from the way their eyes are locked now and there's a sense of waiting, of wanting, of slight but insistent impatience. Whether it's his own or Jean Louis', he has no idea whatsoever. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe all that matters right now is his response. His reaction.
Claude swallows thickly, glancing down at Jean Louis' lips. They're such a prominent feature, like his nose. They look horribly inviting, wonderfully soft. He'll probably taste like wine and cigarettes with that unique sense of him remaining indescribable, because Claude can't even phantom it. Whether Jean Louis' taste will be sharp like Armani or with more of a lemon zing. Whether it'll be a complete surprise, unlike everything Claude knows about the other man at this point, when... if... they...
Gaze flying back up to Jean Louis' eyes. He doesn't draw back. He doesn't move at all, he stays very still. ]
I'd really like you to kiss me.
[ It's such an overcoming to make it a request rather than a question. There's an admittance to it, that Claude can't take this step on his own, by himself. He needs -- not a push or a shove, but help. He needs help getting to where he wants to be. It might not even be a request, hell, it might be a plea.
The intensity of Jean Louis' presence is giving him goosebumps, all the way down his arms, hairs standing on end. His breathing sounds loud and fast to his own ears. ]
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Claude swallows thickly, glancing down at Jean Louis' lips. They're such a prominent feature, like his nose. They look horribly inviting, wonderfully soft. He'll probably taste like wine and cigarettes with that unique sense of him remaining indescribable, because Claude can't even phantom it. Whether Jean Louis' taste will be sharp like Armani or with more of a lemon zing. Whether it'll be a complete surprise, unlike everything Claude knows about the other man at this point, when... if... they...
Gaze flying back up to Jean Louis' eyes. He doesn't draw back. He doesn't move at all, he stays very still. ]
I'd really like you to kiss me.
[ It's such an overcoming to make it a request rather than a question. There's an admittance to it, that Claude can't take this step on his own, by himself. He needs -- not a push or a shove, but help. He needs help getting to where he wants to be. It might not even be a request, hell, it might be a plea.
The intensity of Jean Louis' presence is giving him goosebumps, all the way down his arms, hairs standing on end. His breathing sounds loud and fast to his own ears. ]