Vincent pulls him in for another kiss, trapping his hands between their bodies, though it doesn’t really matter since he got halfway down the row and halfway is more than enough to roam. Then, Vincent’s hand shifts its attention from Claude’s cock to his arse and the feeling of pressure in all the right places makes him react instinctively. Between the two of them, Vincent is quickly proving the most aggressive one and Claude doesn’t mind leaving him the reins for the night, if it continues along these lines. It isn’t a desperate move, even if he hasn’t actually had sex in a couple of months, it’s simply a response to the situation as it’s playing out. So at Vincent’s touch, he stops his groping of the other man’s chest and reaches down to begin unzipping his own trousers. The sound of the zipper drowning in heavy breathing and sloppy kissing. And the sound of Vincent’s voice when he speaks, his words making Claude raise an eyebrow slightly. No presumptions yet, but if Vincent proves to be a dirty-talker, fucking will just be that much hotter. Besides, it would fit him. It would fit what Claude knows about him so far…

Swallowing, he manages a smile, voice no less hoarse than Vincent’s. “When we’re about to fuck, flatter rings hollow.” A pause as he focuses on pushing his trousers down over his hips, leaving Vincent plenty of freedom to explore. When he leans in again, he runs his hands up Vincent’s thighs, following the bulge in his pants and cupping it with one hand, the other coming to a rest against his hip. “You should tell me something else.”