Francis does as he's told, sitting down next to Julian, tilting his head just so to make it easier for him to slide the collar around his neck. He nods in silent agreement, and he couldn't explain it, but there's something about being told not to speak. To just be quiet and answer questions if asked, but to just- it's like permission to let the world be a little bit less loud for a while.
He doesn't quite know what the intention here is, but he trusts Julian. Trusts him with his hands on him and when it's words and direction, too. And there's a certain comfort in having the other man set the direction rather than just what Francis had the insight to ask for. So he settles, puts his head in his lap, shifting just to make sure he can hear him.
"You know, I've never put a collar on anyone before." Bashir cards his fingers through Francis' hair, moving down to cradle the back of his head. As leans in to adjust the buckle, his expression is fond and affectionate and he presses a quick kiss to the top of Francis' head.
"Now, I have some reading and work to finish, but I would like you to lay down and rest your head in my lap." Assuming that Francis does as he's told, Bashir will get to work and absently just keep touching his friend as if he's a treasured pet.
Francis just murmurs soft as Julian slides fingers through his hair, easy and pliant as he lets the other man carefully wrap the leather against his neck, fingers tightening the buckle until it sits snug but not tight against his skin. It feels like something, a weight, but he likes it. Different than when Caleb had put him in a collar back at the Galleria, but still nice.
His eyelashes flutter at the press of lips to his hair, and he does as he's told, settling down nicely with his head in his lap. He doesn't talk, just lets himself nuzzle lightly into the way that Julian absently touches him as he does his work. It makes him feel like a pet, which makes him think about Caleb, which inevitably puts a flushed smile on his face.
Once Francis settles down, Bashir lets out a contented sigh and gets to work. He has rather a lot of reading to do, and while he does it, he's happy to just keep petting his friend. Twirling a bit of his hair or trailing his fingers over the warm, soft skin of his neck (and over the collar), it's all simple and pleasant.
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He doesn't quite know what the intention here is, but he trusts Julian. Trusts him with his hands on him and when it's words and direction, too. And there's a certain comfort in having the other man set the direction rather than just what Francis had the insight to ask for. So he settles, puts his head in his lap, shifting just to make sure he can hear him.
no subject
"Now, I have some reading and work to finish, but I would like you to lay down and rest your head in my lap." Assuming that Francis does as he's told, Bashir will get to work and absently just keep touching his friend as if he's a treasured pet.
no subject
His eyelashes flutter at the press of lips to his hair, and he does as he's told, settling down nicely with his head in his lap. He doesn't talk, just lets himself nuzzle lightly into the way that Julian absently touches him as he does his work. It makes him feel like a pet, which makes him think about Caleb, which inevitably puts a flushed smile on his face.
no subject