Fabrice knew that, when he responded in kind to Demetri's initial flirtation, that he was initiating a connection much more physical than the others in his life; he never imagined it would lead to this amount of physical closeness, nor that he would wind up craving it so much from this man. But he does, and the way Demetri looks at him, that intense, blue gaze focused solely on him, increases the amount of pleasure wrought from his every movement.

"Demetri," he whispers in response, because the additional teasing only renders him more breathless, more susceptible to the shivers running through him. The other man's name on his tongue makes him feel reckless in a way he never needed to feel before now.

He isn't surprised by the appearance of the foil and the lubrication; he knows Demetri's reputation by now, and knows more that he makes use of these items on other men. As much as part of him yearns to keep Demetri to himself, he also realizes that it isn't Demetri's way, and he finds that he doesn't mind the idea, as long as he can get to know Demetri better himself, come to understand him and grow closer to him in the meantime, in his own time. Fabrice finds that he just relishes Demetri's attention, no matter how he might have to go about relishing it.

As Demetri crawls up his body, his movements teasing and slow, Fabrice brings his arms to wrap around his back, tugging him in closer as they kiss again, long, slow, and for Fabrice, full of a desperate longing. He writhes again when he feels Demetri's fingers, cool from the liquid now coating them. As he keeps his eyes on Demetri's, Fabrice feels about ready to fall over the edge of a cliff.

"Yes," he whimpers, rather than speaks, his voice strained with want and desires he can't begin to name. "Please."