"Coward."
"That," Frederik said, "is objectively false."
Cecil looked as though he might have argued the point on principle alone, but the smug brilliance in his expression softened by a fraction as Frederik's hand settled more firmly at his waist and then lower, his focus shifting from argument to the quieter practicalities neither of them ever found especially glamorous.
Cecil exhaled slowly, some of the sparkle in him giving way to that brief, involuntary tension that always came with the transition from Frederik being inside him to the emptiness he didn't particularly like. His fingers caught once at Frederik's sleeve; he still preferred not to be rushed through certain things, and especially not in sex.
Frederik noticed at once.
His expression did not change, but his hand stayed where it was, patient in the severe way only he could manage.
"Easy," he said quietly.
