( the way Crowley repeats his name like that has Aoba edging almost as hard as the thrusts do. it has his gut churning, tensing, a sound that's so addictive and drugging that he's beside himself. trying to increase his pace, jerk his hips—the best he can really do is squeeze around Crowley's cock when he hits him in that spot, making stars break over his field of vision.
much as he wants to study Crowley's eyes, his own screw shut with the new intensity. being pulled out of and then rammed hard against the wall, make his voice break. panting, he falls into a chorus of oh and ha, digging his nails hard into the back of Crowley's neck.
and he tries to help keep himself balanced. but when he's being fucked like this, hitting just the right spots, the right depth, everything feels weak. like if Crowley let him go he'd just sink to the floor, a puddle of heat and satisfaction. even so, he clings, tries to keep his legs around the vampire but also not limit the range of movement.
there's no way the neighbors don't hear him. even his breaths are loud, each laden with a groan, a plea, broken sounds of encouragement ( ye, yeah, yea..! ) for Crowley to keep doing what he's doing, doing what he wants. Aoba can't, but no doubt the vampire can hear them taking note, wondering just what the couple next door is up to.
then Crowley says that and Aoba digs his fingers hard into shoulders, nails cutting down and if Crowley weren't a vampire he may have left bloody scratches. look, it's corny as hell, but he actually really likes being called baby. this is something he will never admit. though he may not need to, given the positive physical reaction of his grinding harder than before. )
Want... want you... want you to come for... for me.
( his own, new erection is aching, desperate for more attention than the friction of two bodies rutting together. Aoba pays it no mind—he wants to get Crowley there, damn it. )
no subject
much as he wants to study Crowley's eyes, his own screw shut with the new intensity. being pulled out of and then rammed hard against the wall, make his voice break. panting, he falls into a chorus of oh and ha, digging his nails hard into the back of Crowley's neck.
and he tries to help keep himself balanced. but when he's being fucked like this, hitting just the right spots, the right depth, everything feels weak. like if Crowley let him go he'd just sink to the floor, a puddle of heat and satisfaction. even so, he clings, tries to keep his legs around the vampire but also not limit the range of movement.
there's no way the neighbors don't hear him. even his breaths are loud, each laden with a groan, a plea, broken sounds of encouragement ( ye, yeah, yea..! ) for Crowley to keep doing what he's doing, doing what he wants. Aoba can't, but no doubt the vampire can hear them taking note, wondering just what the couple next door is up to.
then Crowley says that and Aoba digs his fingers hard into shoulders, nails cutting down and if Crowley weren't a vampire he may have left bloody scratches. look, it's corny as hell, but he actually really likes being called baby. this is something he will never admit. though he may not need to, given the positive physical reaction of his grinding harder than before. )
Want... want you... want you to come for... for me.
( his own, new erection is aching, desperate for more attention than the friction of two bodies rutting together. Aoba pays it no mind—he wants to get Crowley there, damn it. )