[ It isn't what he intended to invite, but it's hardly unwelcome.
Godfrey sighs hard against his lips, as though setting down some great weight, and now lets himself fall back into the pillows. Both of his hands occupy themselves immediately as Gale's lips part against his, running down the gentle slope of his back, fingers wringing the embroidered waist of his bedclothes until the bottom seam slips high enough to expose his back.
It isn't a conscious effort to undress him - were Godfrey made aware of it, a temporary embarrassment might break through the moment, pull him to something more proper and principled than the man currently relishing in the warmth of his skin, mapping the muscle of his lower back with his palm. It is raw need coursing him; his body reaching out for the thing his rational mind would deny him, instinct driving his hand to run his fingertips just beneath the band of his waist to claim the warmth there, pulling him to wind his calf gently against the inside of Gale's -- and to pull his voice from him, surprised and hitching against Gale's parted lips as he presses against him.
Hot pressure pulls his cock tight for a moment, a strong throb he is only half-aware that Gale can certainly feel, and the fever breaks. Gale's breath is not on his tongue, and the soft press of his lips is gone. Godfrey's eyes flutter, and that respectable part of him regains control again as he sees his hand down the length of Gale's back - his fingers having wandered just a little too far below the waist. His hand recoils.
His next breath might have been an apology, but for Gale's own breathless, laughing confession. Flushed and panting, a rough hah pulled from him in response. Disbelieving. He hardly even needs to see it. Knowing that he had not been the only one concealing himself is enough to send a hot thrill through his body, and he brings his fingers to his hair, gently combing long strands from his ear to sigh hotly against it, to kiss its tender edge before whispering to him; ]
I had feared that it would drive me to cut the evening short.
[ Instead, he begins to think, it's only made it longer. ]
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Godfrey sighs hard against his lips, as though setting down some great weight, and now lets himself fall back into the pillows. Both of his hands occupy themselves immediately as Gale's lips part against his, running down the gentle slope of his back, fingers wringing the embroidered waist of his bedclothes until the bottom seam slips high enough to expose his back.
It isn't a conscious effort to undress him - were Godfrey made aware of it, a temporary embarrassment might break through the moment, pull him to something more proper and principled than the man currently relishing in the warmth of his skin, mapping the muscle of his lower back with his palm. It is raw need coursing him; his body reaching out for the thing his rational mind would deny him, instinct driving his hand to run his fingertips just beneath the band of his waist to claim the warmth there, pulling him to wind his calf gently against the inside of Gale's -- and to pull his voice from him, surprised and hitching against Gale's parted lips as he presses against him.
Hot pressure pulls his cock tight for a moment, a strong throb he is only half-aware that Gale can certainly feel, and the fever breaks. Gale's breath is not on his tongue, and the soft press of his lips is gone. Godfrey's eyes flutter, and that respectable part of him regains control again as he sees his hand down the length of Gale's back - his fingers having wandered just a little too far below the waist. His hand recoils.
His next breath might have been an apology, but for Gale's own breathless, laughing confession. Flushed and panting, a rough hah pulled from him in response. Disbelieving. He hardly even needs to see it. Knowing that he had not been the only one concealing himself is enough to send a hot thrill through his body, and he brings his fingers to his hair, gently combing long strands from his ear to sigh hotly against it, to kiss its tender edge before whispering to him; ]
I had feared that it would drive me to cut the evening short.
[ Instead, he begins to think, it's only made it longer. ]