[Gepard might think that he's bad at being Sexy Captain Landau, but Sampo would beg to differ-- there's a definite appeal to him when he's all sullen and growly, his voice low and with a rough edge to it from his frustration. If he knew how much of an effect he had on Gepard and his ironclad willpower, he might have broken into his office sooner, offered up his services before the poor Captain got to such a state.]
[Or maybe he wouldn't have. Frustrated Captain Landau is pretty sexy. And when he's all pent-up like this, well, he'll have so much energy to unleash on a helpful conman, won't he?]
[But really, this whole situation? Being here, with Gepard, offering himself up again? This was an inevitability. What was Sampo supposed to do, just go about his normal business like he never knew what Gepard's hands felt like on his body? Unlike certain guard captains, Sampo isn't in the habit of self-denial. He wants Gepard, and he's here to get him.]
Is it all Sampo's fault? [His one hand is pinned; the other is still free. Sampo leans down further, his free hand skimming down Gepard's chest, his stomach, towards his open trousers. And, of course, towards the hard, heavy cock resting on his hip. He traces a finger up its length; it's hot, and he has a very clear and visceral memory of how it felt inside of him.] I should take responsibility.
[An echo from before-- are you going to make Sampo Koski take responsibility? Sampo Koski rarely takes responsibility for anything, but this? He'll take it.]
How do you like it, Captain? Since this is my fault. [He tips his head towards Gepard's, noses at his ear. The good Captain's hair smells like plain soap and a little like sweat, and it's very endearing. Very Gepard.] Do you want my hand? My mouth? You could bend me over that very sturdy desk of yours...
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[Or maybe he wouldn't have. Frustrated Captain Landau is pretty sexy. And when he's all pent-up like this, well, he'll have so much energy to unleash on a helpful conman, won't he?]
[But really, this whole situation? Being here, with Gepard, offering himself up again? This was an inevitability. What was Sampo supposed to do, just go about his normal business like he never knew what Gepard's hands felt like on his body? Unlike certain guard captains, Sampo isn't in the habit of self-denial. He wants Gepard, and he's here to get him.]
Is it all Sampo's fault? [His one hand is pinned; the other is still free. Sampo leans down further, his free hand skimming down Gepard's chest, his stomach, towards his open trousers. And, of course, towards the hard, heavy cock resting on his hip. He traces a finger up its length; it's hot, and he has a very clear and visceral memory of how it felt inside of him.] I should take responsibility.
[An echo from before-- are you going to make Sampo Koski take responsibility? Sampo Koski rarely takes responsibility for anything, but this? He'll take it.]
How do you like it, Captain? Since this is my fault. [He tips his head towards Gepard's, noses at his ear. The good Captain's hair smells like plain soap and a little like sweat, and it's very endearing. Very Gepard.] Do you want my hand? My mouth? You could bend me over that very sturdy desk of yours...