It’s a shared initiative, isn’t it? As he moves closer and Vincent leans in, to kiss him. The feeling of his tongue against his mouth is heated and moist, the taste of eggs and morning lingering when Claude parts his lips and cocks his head, to get them at a better angle. He won’t say that they know each other better now, after a night’s worth of sex, but they at least know each other – which is always a plus when it comes to fucking, in his experience.

Deepening the kiss, not impatiently – because he rarely is, Claude reaches down to push the sheets further down Vincent’s legs, baring his thighs. Vincent’s thigh is strong and muscular as he runs his hand up it, the sign of a man who takes good care of himself. Probably a biker. Hell, if that isn’t attractive – the thought of him cycling in those skimpy tights bikers wear. With a great view of his arse…

A slight hum of enjoyment and he draws back from the kiss to glance down Vincent’s body. His chest, his flat stomach, his narrow hips, his cock… He can feel his own cock reacting as is to be expected, really, the well-known warmth coiling in his loins as it hardens slightly. Not there yet, but well on the way. Well on the way.