( Yuri watches realisation melt over Dimitri's expression with an amused kind of patience, and later he'll fancy he could pinpoint the precise moment the alpha in him recognises what it's seeing. Visually, certainly, but Yuri isn't so far removed from his own biology that he doesn't feel the pull too — a deep, preening satisfaction of being in the presence of an alpha.

His pussy throbs. )

You'd put your mouth on me?

( Balthus does that for him — very enthusiastically, too — but he hadn't necessarily expected that Dimitri might want to do the same. Then again, if he was taught the ins and outs of alpha-omega behaviour from those old Faerghan fairy-tales ... )

I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.

( Yuri steps closer, his thighs perhaps more plump and inviting than the long cut of his uniform would suggest. Two fingers press gently beneath Dimitri's chin to coax him into looking up at him properly: )

Take your gloves off for me, hm? Then you can touch.