[Shit. Vincent is fondling his balls, rolling them back and forth between his fingers slowly. Hearing himself breaking into a pant, Claude drops his head, resting it against his forearm, knowing full well that he's only spreading himself more open by doing so. All the better. Vincent will probably like that, his buttocks spread apart around the couple of fingers that he's pressing against his arsehole. Not enough to penetrate yet, just the notion of pressure. The promise. Fuck, don't be a tease now, Vincent - not when he knows Vincent wants it just as much as Claude does (if not more). Needs it. They both need it, right now. Each other.]
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