[ He doesn't have to twice to come closer, arms moving to wrap themselves around the man's frame. The side of his face feels warm against the slow rise and fall of Aoba's chest, and of course he believes the move is intentional but doesn't comment on it. He can hear his heart beat without the closeness, can still feel the way it felt against his ribs, but the difference now is that the sound is soothing.

It's comfortable like this. Too comfortable. There was something nice in burying himself against Aoba, something he doesn't understand, to feel at ease with the way his hand moves through his hair. This was natural with Chess and Horn, but for one reason or another it feels natural with Aoba, too. He doesn't think too much about it, not when he's being spoken to.

Pieces of hair still stick to his face, his braid lightly tickling his back as he tilts his head upward to look up at the man underneath him. ]

Nah, I'm perfectly fine. You?

[ Vampires, man... He's only ever tired physically when he's without blood, but mentally he's exhausted having to deal with Ferid's usual antics everyday. It doesn't help that he's been stuck at his side for centuries now (although that was no one's fault but his own for making that choice).

Sleeping and bathing was also no longer a necessity so if you thought being a vampire couldn't get any more boring you were wrong. ]

My back is already healed, but I gotta say I feel a little sorry for any humans you have sex with. You dig in deep.

[ There's a short pause. Allowing his final bit of teasing to settle in to the conversation and possibly earn a reaction from Aoba before he speaks up: ] I was born in the thirteenth century. I turned... when I was twenty-five, so that makes me over eight hundred years old. I guess.

[ Just throwing that out there. ]