[ Siegfried can’t even begin to understand what’s going through Klaus’ mind at the moment. He’d spoken candidly, because he refused to stand by and listen to someone berate themselves. Not when they’d been nothing but kind and accommodating (but also a little weird, which was Fine). He simply wanted to make his own judgment, without Klaus’ poor opinion of himself coloring it.
But it seems he’s inadvertently hit some sort of weak point, an old wound perhaps. Emotion crosses his face, something that looks like sadness, and though Siegfried isn’t the most perceptive person when it comes to the emotions of others, it’s hard to miss the concrete signs of his eyes becoming misty.
Despite their lack of familiarity, it makes his heart ache with dismay.
So the kiss they share is a little less laden with desire on his end, a bit more muted, yet curious all the same. He has always been better with actions rather than words, and for the moment, before he finds words again, he can at least kiss him and acquiesce to his requests to loosen and undo his toga. It falls to the ground, leaving him in his undergarments. Now, he has a chance to speak again, brow furrowed as he searches for the other’s gaze again. He can’t help but feel as though the wall has inadvertently cornered Klaus, but perhaps that’s necessary at the moment. ]
I don’t understand, Klaus. I’m not telling you anything I wouldn’t tell you normally, even without the context of sex.
[ Funnily enough, right now, there’s not a hint of color in his cheeks, his tone low and careful. ]
If what you seek is someone who will blindly accept self-flagellation, I can’t offer you that. I wouldn’t sleep with someone I consider to be beneath me.
[ So if Klaus truly insists on feeling that way, he should find another partner. It would be a shame, as Siegfried has genuinely already grown fond of this strange, handsome man with a perpetual and easy smile. Which is why, even as he speaks, he continues to deftly unwrap the layers that make up Klaus’ own toga. But he stops this task, instead taking hold of Klaus’ wrists and placing his palms over the waistband of his boxer briefs. ]
I like you. If you feel the same, finish undressing me.
no subject
But it seems he’s inadvertently hit some sort of weak point, an old wound perhaps. Emotion crosses his face, something that looks like sadness, and though Siegfried isn’t the most perceptive person when it comes to the emotions of others, it’s hard to miss the concrete signs of his eyes becoming misty.
Despite their lack of familiarity, it makes his heart ache with dismay.
So the kiss they share is a little less laden with desire on his end, a bit more muted, yet curious all the same. He has always been better with actions rather than words, and for the moment, before he finds words again, he can at least kiss him and acquiesce to his requests to loosen and undo his toga. It falls to the ground, leaving him in his undergarments. Now, he has a chance to speak again, brow furrowed as he searches for the other’s gaze again. He can’t help but feel as though the wall has inadvertently cornered Klaus, but perhaps that’s necessary at the moment. ]
I don’t understand, Klaus. I’m not telling you anything I wouldn’t tell you normally, even without the context of sex.
[ Funnily enough, right now, there’s not a hint of color in his cheeks, his tone low and careful. ]
If what you seek is someone who will blindly accept self-flagellation, I can’t offer you that. I wouldn’t sleep with someone I consider to be beneath me.
[ So if Klaus truly insists on feeling that way, he should find another partner. It would be a shame, as Siegfried has genuinely already grown fond of this strange, handsome man with a perpetual and easy smile. Which is why, even as he speaks, he continues to deftly unwrap the layers that make up Klaus’ own toga. But he stops this task, instead taking hold of Klaus’ wrists and placing his palms over the waistband of his boxer briefs. ]
I like you. If you feel the same, finish undressing me.