( at the feeling of fingers threading through his hair, Aoba stiffens at first on instinct, from all those times before when people had made it hurt, and relaxing into the sensation of mixed pleasure and pinch when Crowley does it. breath getting heavy with his mouth paused against the man's hip, the warmth from his cheeks seemingly begins to seep down, making his chest warm and then his stomach, the heat pooling there siphoning into a dull ache between his thighs.
another short breath with something of a whimper on its trail. he's almost drugged up enough on his hair being combed so and having the taste of Crowley's skin against his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick the spot he'd nipped at and tasting again, to not notice that whisper—almost.
it makes him look up, eyes burning bright green and gold, pitch black pupils expanded with thick want.
Crowley's choice of distraction, however, is a good one. Aoba moves his hands away and licks his lips, allowing for the removal of cumbersome belts and the like. at the sight of Crowley's cock a tremor of arousal wakens something inside him, making his own twitch in response, uncomfortable against the fabric of his boxers. )
Mm. Better.
( running the tip of his finger along its underside, slowly, admiring its texture and how it's beginning to swell, Aoba tips his head to press a wet openmouthed kiss against its head. a stronger taste than licking his stomach had been. the thudding between his legs gets strong enough that Aoba has to shift them to ease some of it, painfully turned on from the full sight before him.
exhaling, he ends up shifting back onto the bed, hooking one hand onto Crowley's hip in a greedy tug, )
Come here. ( here, as in down onto the bed, with him, as he moves to recline back, ) I want you.
( ideally, he'd like to be on top of Crowley for a little, maybe suck him until he's fully hard—but he won't complain if Crowley has other ideas. probably. )
no subject
another short breath with something of a whimper on its trail. he's almost drugged up enough on his hair being combed so and having the taste of Crowley's skin against his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick the spot he'd nipped at and tasting again, to not notice that whisper—almost.
it makes him look up, eyes burning bright green and gold, pitch black pupils expanded with thick want.
Crowley's choice of distraction, however, is a good one. Aoba moves his hands away and licks his lips, allowing for the removal of cumbersome belts and the like. at the sight of Crowley's cock a tremor of arousal wakens something inside him, making his own twitch in response, uncomfortable against the fabric of his boxers. )
Mm. Better.
( running the tip of his finger along its underside, slowly, admiring its texture and how it's beginning to swell, Aoba tips his head to press a wet openmouthed kiss against its head. a stronger taste than licking his stomach had been. the thudding between his legs gets strong enough that Aoba has to shift them to ease some of it, painfully turned on from the full sight before him.
exhaling, he ends up shifting back onto the bed, hooking one hand onto Crowley's hip in a greedy tug, )
Come here. ( here, as in down onto the bed, with him, as he moves to recline back, ) I want you.
( ideally, he'd like to be on top of Crowley for a little, maybe suck him until he's fully hard—but he won't complain if Crowley has other ideas. probably. )