A smile of Gaultier's own began to tug at the corners of his lips as he watched Cygnus rather adoringly so. For a moment fingers fell limp against the sudden warmth that enclosed them, and Gaultier couldn't help the quiet sigh that managed to slip through slightly parted lips. "You assumed the worst," there was no rise or fall of his tone to indicate whether or not it was a question, and instead he leaned forward to brush Cygnus' ear lightly before continuing, dwelling not on his previous accusation: "You know I care about you, don't you?"
Words fell hushed and gave into the silence of the room, Gaultier's tongue finding the edge of Cygnus' ear where it began to tease the sensitive skin there. There was always a moment, when Cygnus gave into Gaultier's assault and seemed to melt into him, curve himself against Gaultier's chest, that he loved more than anything. It was this moment Gaultier looked forward to in their meetings, not the quick desperate fucking that always seemed to follow. This moment always proved how much Cygnus cared, whether or not he'd admit it later on.
"It's in the country, where we'll be alone." The teasing continued, his tongue having ceased and quickly replaced with a gentle nibble of lips as they descended down to Cygnus' neck suddenly. As Gaultier's hands fisted themselves in the back of his shirt, urging him as close as possible, did he begin to notice how their chests rose and fell in sync. "In Italy, no less. I doubt either of our wives will know that's where to look."
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