[ silva's doe-eyed, tranquil expression darkens as bond approaches. it's almost predictable, almost—but he hadn't expected bond to make the first move, even if he's aware bond prefers to use sex (or alcohol) to settle upheaval, to rise to a challenge. then again, the man has a positively heuristic methodology, doesn't he. continuous one-ups until he ends up on top, king of the world, looking down from on high like some angel of destruction sent from m's private army.
still, he lets bond fiddle with his shirt, his tie, watching him with razor scrutiny, blinking in slow, unsmiling appraisal. though bond had kicked his weapons away, this new move—a respectable attempt at seduction, silva muses—also puts him within reach of the steyr m9-a1. clever james, always so quick on the uptake.
after a moment, his large hands move to settle on bond's waist, thumbs rubbing in slow circles against his hips. then, inexorably, they tighten, firm and uncompromising, and drag him down until his ass is snug against silva's groin. ]
I do. You wouldn't be touching me if you had nothing to lose. [ and nothing to gain. ]
no subject
still, he lets bond fiddle with his shirt, his tie, watching him with razor scrutiny, blinking in slow, unsmiling appraisal. though bond had kicked his weapons away, this new move—a respectable attempt at seduction, silva muses—also puts him within reach of the steyr m9-a1. clever james, always so quick on the uptake.
after a moment, his large hands move to settle on bond's waist, thumbs rubbing in slow circles against his hips. then, inexorably, they tighten, firm and uncompromising, and drag him down until his ass is snug against silva's groin. ]
I do. You wouldn't be touching me if you had nothing to lose. [ and nothing to gain. ]