Rook snorts softly as Ulysse rubs his face on his cheek like a kitten. He might be more of a cat than he is a pirate. His fingers are slow and gentle as they unlace the fastenings of those tight pants, but he doesn't bother pushing them down yet, instead his fingers tease the waist, caressing instead of rushing through the undressing process.

The kiss lingers between their mouths, slow and thorough, Rook's fingers reaching up to thread into Ulysse's hair while they chase each other's lips.

The difference with their earlier encounters is stark and obvious, even Rook can't deny it.

But he doesn't care.

He just doesn't care.

He will punch the first person to demand him to put titles and words to this. It just is and it... is kind of perfect.