no. it hasn't come up—Aoba had always just assumed old. Crowley had never struck him as someone born from his era; it was merely intuition that lead him to that answer, nothing he'd asked, and maybe a comment or two from the vampire that seemed to back up his guess. he merely shakes his head as his answer to that—maybe... he'll ask later. even if he can't keep Crowley, Aoba still has those little curiosities about the man. how old is he? where's he from? does he have a last name?
all things that make this dangerous, all things that are red flags for deviating off the road of good bootycall and into what the hell are these gross feelings?! territory.
it's better to focus on the sex. he does respond to the comment about not fucking him right with a muttered, huffed out: )
You mostly tease me.
( if Crowley tries to deny that Aoba's just gonna stuff the receipts down his throat. his hand continues to work through Crowley's fingering, making his cock twitch in interest once more, arousal building up slower than the first time but no less certain. mouth opening and closing, working silently in response to the feeling of fingers. he's still sore from before but it's nothing painful, only mild irritation against those fingers that melts into nothingness as they move in to the knuckles.
sucking Crowley off again isn't a bad idea. while he likes it rough, there is a reason why people figured out how to lube an ass up in the first place. but it's not important in the face of Crowley's hands on him, on wrapping his own around the vampire's neck as they move, relishing in the way his back hits the wall and the rippled texture against his back.
fingers find their way back into hair when Crowley kisses him. Aoba welcomes it, wants it, parting his lips instantly and meeting it with a new hunger of his own. encouraging Crowley to be selfish. Aoba wants him to be, longs for it, just as much as he longs for his own satisfaction. lips wet, mouth hot, he sucks as much as he can at the other's tongue, wanting so much that he scrapes his teeth against it once he has it. )
—hnnh...
( a wonton noise breaks through his quickening breaths when Crowley pushes into him. and then, ) Hahh...? ( at the... word? language? he doesn't understand and it confuses him, and he wants to know what's been said, but there's no room for asking. there's moving, grinding, and Aoba returns it in kind—much as he's able, anyway. foreheads touch and he keeps that position, nose brushing against Crowley's, arms still wrapped tight around his neck. the wall offers some good support as well, though doesn't help him move much.
he does tense around the other man, squeeze him, rock his hips enough to help him hit just the right places. this is good, this is good—in and out and Aoba's shuddering, chest rising and falling with labor, heart already being put back to work. it feels like his lungs won't expand wide enough and he struggles to catch those quick breaths. between them, his cock twitches again, half-hard and swiftly rising back to attention. yet he pays his own needs no mind; not when he's meeting the way Crowley moves, feeling him, focusing on the sounds the vampire makes. everything, trying to soak it all up, greedily. in it all he groans out a loud, heated: )
omg... but i love it tho???
no. it hasn't come up—Aoba had always just assumed old. Crowley had never struck him as someone born from his era; it was merely intuition that lead him to that answer, nothing he'd asked, and maybe a comment or two from the vampire that seemed to back up his guess. he merely shakes his head as his answer to that—maybe... he'll ask later. even if he can't keep Crowley, Aoba still has those little curiosities about the man. how old is he? where's he from? does he have a last name?
all things that make this dangerous, all things that are red flags for deviating off the road of good bootycall and into what the hell are these gross feelings?! territory.
it's better to focus on the sex. he does respond to the comment about not fucking him right with a muttered, huffed out: )
You mostly tease me.
( if Crowley tries to deny that Aoba's just gonna stuff the receipts down his throat. his hand continues to work through Crowley's fingering, making his cock twitch in interest once more, arousal building up slower than the first time but no less certain. mouth opening and closing, working silently in response to the feeling of fingers. he's still sore from before but it's nothing painful, only mild irritation against those fingers that melts into nothingness as they move in to the knuckles.
sucking Crowley off again isn't a bad idea. while he likes it rough, there is a reason why people figured out how to lube an ass up in the first place. but it's not important in the face of Crowley's hands on him, on wrapping his own around the vampire's neck as they move, relishing in the way his back hits the wall and the rippled texture against his back.
fingers find their way back into hair when Crowley kisses him. Aoba welcomes it, wants it, parting his lips instantly and meeting it with a new hunger of his own. encouraging Crowley to be selfish. Aoba wants him to be, longs for it, just as much as he longs for his own satisfaction. lips wet, mouth hot, he sucks as much as he can at the other's tongue, wanting so much that he scrapes his teeth against it once he has it. )
—hnnh...
( a wonton noise breaks through his quickening breaths when Crowley pushes into him. and then, ) Hahh...? ( at the... word? language? he doesn't understand and it confuses him, and he wants to know what's been said, but there's no room for asking. there's moving, grinding, and Aoba returns it in kind—much as he's able, anyway. foreheads touch and he keeps that position, nose brushing against Crowley's, arms still wrapped tight around his neck. the wall offers some good support as well, though doesn't help him move much.
he does tense around the other man, squeeze him, rock his hips enough to help him hit just the right places. this is good, this is good—in and out and Aoba's shuddering, chest rising and falling with labor, heart already being put back to work. it feels like his lungs won't expand wide enough and he struggles to catch those quick breaths. between them, his cock twitches again, half-hard and swiftly rising back to attention. yet he pays his own needs no mind; not when he's meeting the way Crowley moves, feeling him, focusing on the sounds the vampire makes. everything, trying to soak it all up, greedily. in it all he groans out a loud, heated: )
Crowley.
( a plea, an encouragement, a want, a need. )