It did not escape Vince’s notice that Cassian failed to respond to his query. He supposed it was a small victory, considering the other hadn’t pulled away reeling and left him high and dry, but the fabric in his mouth likely helped. Vince smirked again at the thought, green eyes twinkling as he veritably rubbed it in Cass’ face. Perhaps this was a trend he could rely upon, stuffing the other’s mouth shut so he couldn’t protest. Stuffed with what remained variable. (The look Cass gave him was enough to communicate what he was thinking but Vincent ignored it innocently.)

It seemed like in the next few seconds Cass caught onto the idea that Vince was easily incapacitated and he felt the shift in dynamic almost palpably in the air. A shiver ran down the Slytherin’s spine as Cass surged forward with his knee, one big hand holding Vince back against the bank. There was something to be said for being entierly pinned in place and held there by someone nearly double one’s size. The same way he felt a sadistic litttle thrill at having the upper hand, he was even more intoxicated by the sensation of Cass’ dominance. The big blonde could have tied his hands behind his back and had his way, and Vincent would have let him. (There wasn’t much Vince was discovering he wouldn’t let Cass do, but the idea that he wanted the other to pin him down was new.)

As Cass’ motions became more bold, more determined, and faster in pace, Vincent couldn’t help but tip his head back and open his mouth. Like a dog, his tongue dropped out of his mouth between pants as if more oxygen could possibly help his sense of self control. He shivered against everything Cass was doing to him, and whimpered. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t his plan. As Cass caught his eye and dropped the shirt from his mouth, Vincent suddenly realized he was in for it. The glint behind blue eyes was almost enough in itself to drive him over the edge. (That gravelly voice didn’t hurt, either.) A surge of pride swelled in Vince’s belly as the words Cass spoke settled into what part of his brain managed to still function. Yes. This was exactly what he’d wanted and Vince was determined to reward Cass for it, heartily.

A slow, wide smirk crossed Vince’s lips and he pulled back just enough to stare Cass right in the eye. He hoped the other could see how close to coming undone he was. Still panting, Vince pressed his forehead against the big blonde’s and licked his lips. It seemed fitting if this was to be the last, that they end with a sense of what had started this all in the first place so, misquoting his ever beloved Shakespeare, Vincent whispered a soft warning, foreshadowing his intentions. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine,” he grinned and tightened his hold of Cass for emphasis hoping to elicit a groan, “My lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

A heartbeat passed in which Vincent sucked in a deep breath, hoping against everything he believed in that he wasn’t about to scare Cass off him forever. Reluctantly then, he squirmed free of the other’s hold. The cold that blasted him was unforgivable and the Slytherin almost whined as he squirmed back into his trousers properly so as to be able to move freely. Then, without further warning, he dropped to his knees and took Cass into his mouth without a single hesitation.

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