[Clive sighs at the sight of Cid using his magic to light one of his smokes. Looks like that death wish that Cid ran with before hasn’t abated at all.]
I’ve learned to think on my feet. Some guy from my past taught me how.
[Clive quirks Cid a half smile before taking one of the glasses. He raises it in a toast.]
To poorly laid plans.
[Clive downs the drink before leaning his elbow on the vanity and putting his chin in his hand. He takes in Cid’s form, hunched over and inhaling that cigarillo like if he doesn’t finish it in three puffs he’ll die. His eyes follow the nicotine fix to the hands that hold it, to the broad chest and exposed skin with a slight sheen of sweat. His gaze travels downwards. The angle makes it difficult to see anything between his pecs and his thighs, so he practically skips over them, eyes trailing all the way down to those punishingly high heels.
He makes absolutely no attempt to hide how much he is oggling. And to be fair, he doesn’t fully realize he is doing it.]
Here.
[Clive gets off of his stool to kneel on the ground. Gently, he lifts Cid’s calf with one hand and removes the shoe with his other. He repeats the gesture on the other foot then sits back on his haunches, looking up and making the very active and deliberate choice to just make eye contact.]
no subject
[Clive sighs at the sight of Cid using his magic to light one of his smokes. Looks like that death wish that Cid ran with before hasn’t abated at all.]
I’ve learned to think on my feet. Some guy from my past taught me how.
[Clive quirks Cid a half smile before taking one of the glasses. He raises it in a toast.]
To poorly laid plans.
[Clive downs the drink before leaning his elbow on the vanity and putting his chin in his hand. He takes in Cid’s form, hunched over and inhaling that cigarillo like if he doesn’t finish it in three puffs he’ll die. His eyes follow the nicotine fix to the hands that hold it, to the broad chest and exposed skin with a slight sheen of sweat. His gaze travels downwards. The angle makes it difficult to see anything between his pecs and his thighs, so he practically skips over them, eyes trailing all the way down to those punishingly high heels.
He makes absolutely no attempt to hide how much he is oggling. And to be fair, he doesn’t fully realize he is doing it.]
Here.
[Clive gets off of his stool to kneel on the ground. Gently, he lifts Cid’s calf with one hand and removes the shoe with his other. He repeats the gesture on the other foot then sits back on his haunches, looking up and making the very active and deliberate choice to just make eye contact.]
Wanna count the tips?