[ Bastien's face scrunches and his mouth opens with the beginning of a protest, but then he decides against it. He's feeling too comfortable and petted to say it was all very selfishly motivated actually, or to do an inventory of the times he asked Byerly to please just have sex with him already. Instead his face smooths out and he sighs, cheerfully resigned: ]
You're right. I'm perfect.
[ And he wiggles, as if getting more comfortable on a mattress, except the mattress is Byerly's thin chest and Bastien is poking his shoulder blades into it quite on purpose. At least they aren't the overly pointy kind. ]
no subject
You're right. I'm perfect.
[ And he wiggles, as if getting more comfortable on a mattress, except the mattress is Byerly's thin chest and Bastien is poking his shoulder blades into it quite on purpose. At least they aren't the overly pointy kind. ]
I've never made a mistake in my life.