Gaultier couldn't quite help himself, his gaze met that of Cygnus' only briefly before sneaking a peek to those thinly pressed lips. Those lips were so wonderfully talented, had been since their first encounter in the prefect's bathroom and now -- with so little space between them -- the feeling of what they once had was a memory no more; no, there was now a throbbing, painful reminder. "And the owls.."
Though the words were whispered, he was only half serious; Gaultier knew very well that Cygnus was more sorry than he let on. It was the jealousy that proved this. "There's nothing you deserve more." As the thought hung between them Gaultier closed what little space was left in keeping them apart and pressed his lips, gently though not lacking passion, to Cygnus' own. Despite himself, a small noise emitted itself from the back of Gaultier's throat.
The hand that lingered at his side quickly lifted and tangled in the back of Cygnus' hair, tightening his hold there as he suddenly pressed forward. A roll of his hips left much to be desired; suddenly, there were too many guests. Too few rooms to sneak off to.
"I want to hear how sorry you are."
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