( a good question—though right now he's offering no answers as to how he'd react, because the feeling of fingers through his hair still exists in that plane between pleasant and painful. it's something he's slowly getting used to, each time Crowley affords his hair some affection, and he's adjusting to touch he'd so rarely allowed before. not that he'll ever be keen on just anyone touching it.

so that slow combing rewards Crowley with an inhale and fluttering eyelids, body tensing at first, just enough to hint that it's not pure pleasure but overall feels good regardless. half of that may even because he's anticipating a pull, trying to brace for the surge of agonizing pain that'll make him flinch away. even if he likes pain with sex, he doesn't... like that kind much. go figure.

as far as Crowley's very romantic comment: live hard and die young. nah, he isn't so reckless, but.... despite the wrinkle of his nose and brow at the comment, he doesn't dispute it. Crowley's probably right. during that time, under those circumstances.... good thing he's a 2XXX kid. )

Mm? ( he'd shifted onto his cheek, rubbing it against Crowley's skin, but he glances back up, ) Really? ( is he teasing again...? is he referring solely to dirty stuff? Aoba's not sure—it's hard to tell with Crowley. )

Well... one thing I want is to lie on top of you.

( so if Crowley would plop onto his back and let Aoba use him as a body pillow, that'd be fantastic. )

But, for real... okay. Only if you tell me things you want, too. One for one. I'll tell you something and then you tell me something.

( that's only fair! )