[Few seconds pass from Vincent has joined him in bed until he's leaning in for a kiss, taking rather than requesting, his tongue pressing in between his lips hungrily and his hand coming up to the back of Claude's head, fingers gripping his hair rather than just running through it. There are no caresses lost between them, here - and Claude is entirely responsive, parting his lips and sliding his tongue up along the slick wetness of Vincent's. He tastes like toothpaste, minty fresh which is in stark contrast to the intent with which he's being kissed. Nothing truly pleasant about it, only pleasurable sensations and the feeling of being well and truly taken care of, in the most basic definition of the term. The very reason that Claude has never minded bottoming - and especially not with Vincent... There's an indescribable intimacy to it, even when it's like this. Hungry and needy and without any restrictions.]
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