[ it doesn't even need to be a show, is the thing. just the simple fact of knowing that rufus is putting his mouth on tseng's dick is more than enough to drive tseng half out of his mind—the fact that rufus is so clearly paying attention to presentation just as much as he is to the actual blowjob is just. what? the cherry on the sundae, sweet; the nail in the coffin, final.

tseng tips his head back a little and exhales a soft moan at the first touch of tongue to flesh. his hand flexes slightly in rufus' hair, although he doesn't grip, not yet; instead he just forces his chin down again so his gaze can come to rest on rufus once more, sharp, intent as he watches rufus' mouth move over his length in slow passes, leaving him wet and slick where he's been. ]

Fuck, [ tseng murmurs. this, he doesn't have to think about. praising rufus comes as easily as anything. ] You should see yourself like this, Rufus. You look like a fucking vision.

[ a particularly satisfying suck makes tseng's thighs jump, his cock twitching slightly. ]

I've thought about this, you know. How your mouth would feel on me.