ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ sᴇᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏɴᴇ's ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

[interpersonally]

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IL SANGRE

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[ Stefano takes the cue, collects his glass and peels away to set it down, to take care of the wine so Stephen's haste doesn't waste it, and he watches him every step of the way. Catches his gaze in the mirrored glass, drops his own to catch the flash of extra skin as Stefano's shirt escapes its confines. Then he's back, and Stephen swallows around nerves and want and the swell of his ego, and tilts his head, smile wry.

That is exactly what he'd been saying, but for the sake of play - ]

I'm saying you've aged. I'd like a tasting.

[ Maybe the wine metaphors need to stop, but he's committed now. He pairs it with a light step in, swallowing up what's left of the scant space between them.

He's out of his depth here. Status and power hover, static bright when he's so rarely needed to notice them before, used to his own being a match for or surpassing the rest of the room. He can't rely on his money or his age or his gender or his wife to guarantee for him how this encounter's going to go, and it's both invigorating and terrifying to be so exposed, so in the dark. Gaze drops to Stefano's lips, lifts to catch his eye again. ]

Then I'll let you know how fine you are.

[ And back down to his mouth, unsteady hand reaching to slide up under Stefano's pulled loose, barely buttoned shirt, his first touch of warm skin over taut muscle smoothing up over abs and sinking to settle and root him at the hip as Stephen leans close, lights the kindling they've laid down with the nudge of his nose to a cheekbone and the gentle flirt of an opening kiss. ]

[interpersonally]

( Stefano steels these kind of moments when out of his routine. He has one person he tends to favor, and who favors him, but when the notion strikes with a man or woman, why not follow it through. He looked up to Stephen, had a measure of attraction he'd never otherwise be able to give a title at such a young age. He saw talent. He saw healing hands. And in Stephen's, that looked like power.

He's always loved power.

That Stephen isn't the same man he used to be, that power may have slipped through his fingers means he is the one with the power now. There is always an imbalance to his relationships, one he'd rather leave behind in the intimacy of his bedchamber. He opens things fade together, that Stephen sees two equals.

He captures Stephen's lips, letting the other man set a pace. His palm finds Stephen's chest, pressing himself closer to Stephen and that hand on him. His other hand grazes up his thigh, and over his belt, his shirt, until both start to work on the buttons on his shirt, all the way, prolonging this first kiss.

How's he taste? )