collegestories | — BEDSHEETS AND MORNING ROSE

You remembered.

( that's kind of surprising! there's even a bit of wonder in his voice at it. it didn't seem like Crowley would remember such an inconsequential detail. even if he's clearly not doing anything of the sort right now, he has to give Crowley credit for recalling what he does at all. )

No, I'm not working now. I'm off for the next two days.

( 'stood up'... did Crowley have a date? that's usually what one means when they say that, right? getting stood up must not feel very good. even if, to Aoba's studying eyes, Crowley doesn't look like he's very put out over it. or put out at all. regardless, there's a brief look of sympathy etching across his features at the notion. gone quickly, however, since there's no need to dwell on it. )

Yeah, let's do something fun. ( maybe being stood up won't be so bad then, right? ) There're bars, so we could play pool... or darts.

( look at him, not suggesting fucking for the next six hours right off the bat. how cute. )

[ Honestly if Crowley is petty enough to remember the date, hour, and year of every time Ferid left him hanging then he should be able to remember that Aoba works retail. It's unnecessary information that is stored in the back of his head. ]

How convenient, spend those next two days with me.

[ Is he being serious? Is he just teasing? Only time will tell. For now he focuses on the suggestions Aoba provides, which is awfully considerate if you put in the fact that he often viewed normal human activities as boring. Which, ultimately, may come off as ridiculous since he's never experienced playing pool or darts before, so he shrugs his shoulders.

Being stood up isn't so bad so long as he gets some form of entertainment, with or without the usual antics from another vampire. ]

I've never played either of those before, so if you want to do it you'll have to teach me. [ The corners of his mouth curl into a grin. ] And it's considerate of you to remember that I can't drink.

[ Yeah he's totally teasing. ]

( that teasing grin has him flushing a little, remembering just how he learned that Crowley can't ingest anything other than blood. that's... some kind of memory, for sure. the rest of his fluster comes from that comment. stay with him for two days?? is he serious? it's hard to tell.

for now, he focuses on the more apparently obvious, )

How could I forget? ( a mutter, sort of to himself, but certainly loud enough for the other man to hear, ) Besides, I don't want you to get sick.

( and it's not like he really wants to play bar games. a general suggestion and they're not in a bad location for it—but the way Crowley says what he does prompts another question: )

What... do you like? What's exciting for you?

( something that most people probably know before fucking a guy twice, but like, whatever. )

Exciting for me?

[ Bringing up a hand to his chin, index and thumb spread across his bottom lip, the answer actually comes quickly and with ease: ] Nothing that interests humans. I was born in a time where war was fought with swords, so I guess you can say that I like fighting.

[ All of this information probably isn't best suited for outside, where anyone passing by could hear, but Crowley speaks with confidence because he knows that the people walking in earshot of their conversation aren't paying attention. Or, if they are, will likely just cock a brow and move on with their lives. ]

There's that and blood, I also enjoy reading but... [ Is his age showing yet? ] I've lost my humanity so I can't say that much excites me.

[ And like a light bulb, or perhaps a puzzle piece finally finding its home, his expression switches from that of his usual, neutral expression to that of brief surprise. It comes together when he's in front of Aoba--and that's a little weird, but he's not going to question it when it's so obvious. ]

But you. I like you.

[ He'd apologize for just how damn embarrassing it's going to get when he steps closer, hand finding Aoba's waist and pulling him closer. ]

Remember what I told you what would happen the next time we meet?

( war and swords.... and reading? wow. that's so 1787. even so, it makes Aoba smile, the sort of smile that says he's gently amused but not going to tease about it. blood.... that one's a given, but he's not sure there's a way to have fun with that? well. more than the one they've already indulged in before.

yet it seems that things are going to head in that direction even if he doesn't mention it. there's a hand around his waist and Aoba's easily pulled in, caught up in those words: I like you.

and—oh.

damn embarrassing?? damn straight. hands having pressed up against Crowley's chest on instinct when he'd been drawn in, fingers splayed, he flushes at the memory. yeah. yeahhhhhh he remembers. swallowing, his gaze flicks between Crowley's lips and eyes before settling on the latter, )

Y... yeah. You want to...?

( ... for two days?! no, he had to be joking about that comment.

it dissolves into Aoba biting his lip and squinting up at the other man: )

Are you teasing me?

[ And when he was trying so hard not to bring up sex in the first five minutes, poor Aoba. Crowley could have carried on if he had been swept into the idea of doing something else like pool or darts, but when left to his own accord he draws back to what he's familiar with--admittedly most of that had to do with who he's dealing with.

The shorter of the two reacts in the way Crowley has familiarized himself with, which in turn brings the corners of his mouth to turn into a smile. Even with the busy streets he can hear the heart of the man in front of him beating as if it was the only sound in the world. ]

I wouldn't bring it up if I didn't want to. [ So to answer the two days question: ... he knows he'd make it through.

He tilts his head. ] Aoba. [ Dipping his head he brings his face closer, his free hand drifting upward to lightly take a hold of Aoba's face. He wants all of his attention on him. ] Do you want me to fuck you in front of everyone so you know that I'm serious?

( Crowley doesn't need to take hold of Aoba's face to keep his full attention—it's already there. he's not interested in anyone else around, not even a little. it's not a gesture that he minds, however, and having Crowley's face drawn so close to his own makes him want to push up on his toes and seal the distance that's left. which is why he presses his lips together on instinct, anticipating, remembering taste, feeling.

but then the man has to go and say that. it's got Aoba's jaw dropping, genuine surprise and embarrassment before his flustered squeak: )

What?! N-n-n-no!! You can't do something like that here, in front of people!!

( he'd die of embarrassment. sex is good and he's not shy about having it, but the thought of doing it in public.... he'll seriously die. )

I believe you. ( it's half scolding, half pleading. he's too young to die from extreme embarrassment. ) Let's go somewhere, okay?

( it's not like they don't have plenty of places to choose from. as if to coax him into not fucking him right in public, Aoba leans up, brushes his lips against Crowley's, a kiss meant more as a tease than anything. )

Why not? [ He looks genuinely confused, dropping his hand. ] Ah, it's because you'd probably lose your job or something right?

[ Not even realizing that it could embarrass Aoba for a lifetime and he'd probably have to move out of the country and change his name. The worst kind of punishment Crowley would receive if some exposure to sunlight, but he doubts they'd let him die. ]

Alright.

[ Aoba comes close and it definitely doesn't help his case against fucking him in the public eye, but even a monster can respect boundaries. ]

Where to? I can't take you to my place unless you wanna meet Chess and Horn. [ And he'd seriously die of embarrassment there. Or by Chess, whichever comes first. ]

( he's... not even going to explain why having brazen sex in public isn't decent. so he merely makes a nose in his throat in agreement, like, ah, yes, it could totally cost me my job. like he hasn't been fired from at least four at this point for less scandalous reasons.

at the mention of where he pauses. nnnnnah, he doesn't really want to get drained, already a little alarmed by whoever Chess is from an earlier comment. )

Ah... my place is no good either. My Granny's home.

( he would literally have sex in public before having sex with his Granny downstairs to possibly overhear. Aoba's way too noisy during and he knows it; he may never see these strangers again, but he has to look his Granny in the eye every day. could he do that if she heard how he sounds...? no. nnnnno. if she even met Crowley, no doubt she'd note his slight resemblance to someone else, too, which would make the previous even worse.

since that hand's dropped, Aoba's going to take advantage and snatch at it, threading their fingers together. )

So let's just go get a room. ( casually, he raises their joint hands so he can bite at one of Crowley's knuckles, scraping his teeth down before ending in a light kiss. ) That's fine, right?

( ... and he's just going to start leading the way to one of the smaller hotels he'd passed when chasing the man, since it seemed nice enough. )

[ yeah aoba we don't need your granny thinking you got some weird daddy kink

Crowley doesn't even flinch when Aoba takes his hand, nor does he make any sort of reaction when their fingers thread together, instead his features switches to something more neutral. He's not disappointed, not when the other quickly answer their question of the hour or when teeth press against a gloved knuckle.

He's beginning to wonder if he likes holding hands and kissing, as if it wasn't obvious since day one. ]

Yeah, that's fine.

[ Because despite his talk about taking the other man in public Crowley isn't above fucking in some alleyway, not in his uniform anyway. So the idea of a room, a bed, is quickly accepted with a short nod of his head and a gentle smile.

Half-lidded eyes watch as Aoba calmly turns, guiding them to one of the hotels which in turn earns a small look from Crowley. He could make a comment that it smells of sex but it's not like the human would agree, his sense far more superior and thus he's left pushing that thought into the back of his head and focuses his attention on both of them getting a room.

Halfway up a staircase (or something) before the vampire moves on a whim. Again, childish curiosity controlling half of his actions, one hand grabbing Aoba by his shoulder and shoving into an all too convenient wall before he's moving in close. ] I can't wait. [ A lie. He simply wishes to see if Aoba will protest any now that they're out of sight and out of mind. ] I want the appetizer now, Aoba.

[ They're so damn close to their room but you know, Crowley can't stop being awful. ]

( look.............. the less she knows about his kinks the better, tbh.

kinks of which may involve having his mouth on Crowley at almost all times. don't judge him, he's done nothing wrong and deserves nice things. like being fucked for two days.

as expected, Aoba doesn't note anything special about the hotel: his sense of smell is as average as anyone else's, though it's not like he's oblivious as to what's going on there. isn't that exactly what they're doing, too? but he doesn't say anything either. it's this, getting drained by one of Crowley's attendants, or having Granny overhear his sex noises. no brainer for him.

getting pushed against the wall while they're climbing the stairs up to their room of said hotel is startling, but also exciting. a sudden rush of adrenaline pushes blood through his veins and his heart sputters like an engine trying to roar to life, foot slamming the gas.

yet he also senses that childlike teasing, familiar with it from being harassed by actual children at work, and like... have you seen his pals Virus and Trip? seriously.... between the two of them, he's probably the one that can't wait, wanting to feel Crowley's hands on his body again. he'd always been sensitive, easily aroused, and even just remembering their texture when he's cornered against the wall turns him on.

which is why he just hooks his fingers against Crowley's throat to tug his face down, blunt nails biting crescents as he gives a dirty kiss. that's not his main gambit, however, much as he really likes kissing Crowley. it's his other hand that's more the point, moving to cup Crowley's cock through his pants and give it a firm squeeze.

when he pulls his mouth back and lips his lips he murmurs, )

If I can wait two minutes, you can.

( colored with tones that suggests that he'd eat Crowley if he could.

how's that for an appetizer? )

[ Aoba would die if he was fucked for two days, he was lucky to walk the first time he and Crowley did anything. And honestly Chess isn't too bad if Crowley steps in to say something, but of course he'd keep his mouth shut until the fear and reality sunk in. (Translation: he'd fuck with him.)

But that doesn't matter since it's not happening now, Crowley's far from having the deciding factor of whether or not Aoba has every ounce of blood sucked out of him or not. He's paying more attention on what's in front of him--of who's in front of him--and tugging him by the neck and sinking nails into his skin. It's electrifying in the way he feels a tiny ounce of order in the other's actions, more so than when he announced with confidence that he wanted to ride him when they had first met.

There's a hand at his cock and when Aoba squeezes he can't help but moan straight into the other's mouth, silencing himself when their lips part. His hands have already moved to the wall as if he plans to trap him there, but fortunately that's not the case as he expresses his arousal with a toothy grin. ]

I'm going to punish you for that.

[ But it excites him either way; not full and obviously hungry for more but enough to satisfy him temporarily.

He grabs Aoba by the wrist and they make it to their floor without any other sudden interruptions, guiding them to their rented room before opening the door and pulling the human inside. But he doesn't bring him into intimate space nor does he force his tongue down his throat or... anything. ]

We've still got a minute left. [ sorry for him being so petty

Enjoy the fact that Crowley's actually spending this minute doing something useful and starting to remove his clothes. Unhooking the belt around his shoulders and placing the cape on a nearby couch, back facing the other man as he begins to strip the jacket off of his shoulders. ]

( this route is riddled with so many bad ends that involve Aoba dying in various ways. yet he continues on?? not like his stranger danger radar is completely off or anything.

or maybe the thrill he gets when Crowley says he's going to punish him for that move explains everything. a grin that shows teeth and Aoba's flushing again, cheeks and throat warmed, but it's not from any kind of embarrassment this time. he's called Crowley unfair at least a dozen times in his head in their past two meetings. unfair because he's attractive even when there's a flag of danger, unfair because he makes Aoba want to be greedy.

it could have easily toppled into having sex on the stairs if Crowley hadn't grabbed his wrist and made quick to their room. it's not a bad room, seems clean enough, and he actually has the moment to sweep it with his eyes because he's not being immediately manhandled. a little disappointing—is this his punishment? waiting the extra minute?

he huffs: )

Fine.

( ... though it's not much of a punishment when he's got view of Crowley peeling off his clothes. sitting on the edge of the bed, Aoba makes similar use of the time by tugging free his own belt and hooking his fingers into the waist of his jeans to shove them off. it's all done by touch alone because hell if he's gonna miss a second of Crowley stripping.

that's... that's a nice back. a really nice back. the kind that makes Aoba a little stupid as his gaze works along strong shoulders, handsome contours. damn boy, let him see those back dimples and the trail of spine, everything. maybe Crowley will tease him for being greedy again but he doesn't even care.

it's distracting enough that he doesn't even take his shirt off. his position on the bed changes so that he's on his belly instead, a pillow pressed under his chest and curved with his body, chin pressing lightly into the end that sticks up from between his arms. with his hips turned, his legs are crossed one over the other, showing pale thighs and calves against a crimson coverlet.

as Aoba blatantly watches he chews his thumb idly, keeping his mouth entertained by working a cuticle between his teeth and tongue. there's no real need to say anything; even if he can't really eat him, or mark him like he still wants to, he can totally ogle. )

[ Aoba obviously wants to 100% complete Crowley's routes so he can get the after credits dick. Either that or he's just a masochist.

Now this definitely isn't Crowley punishing him. No, it's a minute that the vampire takes to list through his options and examine the room briefly of what he can do. Humming to himself, completely aware of the eyes staring at his back, he hears the sound of Aoba maneuvering around on the bed and predicts what his face will look when he turns around--flushed, embarrassed, excited... possibly a mix of all three? Who knows; the fact that it is all a mystery makes it that much more exciting for him.

But before he approaches Aoba he removes his shoes and crosses the room to close the blinds. With his jacket gone came the removal of the armband keeping him from bursting into flames due to sunlight exposure, and that hurts like hell enough to ruin the mood. ]

Stare any harder and I'll put my clothes back on. [ Then maybe that'd be his punishment to some degree.

Crowley comes forward, standing before the human and presenting himself with confidence. And why wouldn't he be confident? His body retained its physique the moment he drank human blood, and by then he had been trained, toned, and polished as a knight in both mind and body. There's not a hint of war on his skin, all scars having disappeared when his life was forced to change entirely. It's been like this for over eight hundred years and it will not ever change.

He brings a hand up to Aoba's face, fingers tracing his jawline before he brings a thumb to lightly pad across his bottom lip. ]

So will you keep looking or-- [ With his free hand he hooks his fingers around the belt on his pants (why does he wear so many belts... why), but doesn't move to take it off. ] --are you gonna show me what you want?

( how about both??

Aoba watches as Crowley moves across the room to close the blinds. ah. sure, it's dark now, but it won't be later, if they hang around long enough... the old vampire bursting into flame trope was honestly one he hadn't even been thinking about.

but even asking about that is likely to ruin a mood, he figures. maybe later or whatever.

when he's not being presented with the a very fine specimen of man. huffing, Aoba makes a face at the first comment: how the hell is he supposed to not stare?! the last two times they'd hooked up Aoba had been the main one in various states of mostly undress. it's his first time to really get a look at Crowley and it's... a little surprising. for someone that's been around for so long... wouldn't there be marks of that...? from before he became a vampire, even? but Aoba doesn't know his story nor does he really understand how turning works. are you supposed to stay the same as the moment you were turned? are you not? what changes? what doesn't?

but regardless of all of that—Crowley's incredibly nice to look at. he looks more like a model than a vampire, honestly, with impressive physique and unblemished skin.

thumb at his lip has Aoba's tongue curling out to touch it, licking the pad with its tip. )

Should I grab it again?

( that's a teasing comment if he's ever uttered any. but despite that, it's not what he actually wants to put his mouth on first.

the pillow Aoba'd been nursing gets tossed aside, left flat and sad on the ground in favor of instead dragging nails up Crowley's stomach, greedily learning the planes of his body. they don't leave marks, which is still disappointing, but there's a mild satisfaction in the cool texture of skin rough against them.

sitting on the bed gives him a good position to lean in and trail the flat of his tongue up underneath Crowley's navel, dipping the tip in a fleeting tease before moving up, scraping teeth against muscle before sucking down.

seriously, if Crowley's gonna just toy with the possibility of showing his dick, Aoba's hands are gonna drag back down and hook into into the waistband of his pants. tugging, to get his point across as he turns his head and nips at one of Crowley's hipbones: )

Wanna see all of you. Show me.

( it's not a request; more of a demand, breathless and wanting as it is.

and, isn't it obvious that he wants Crowley to keep that promise...? )

[ okay then maybe he'll like his punishment more than crowley thinks. yikes.

But Crowley breathes out a quiet laugh. Whether or not Aoba grabs him now doesn't quite matter, he'll remember that; that confident, teasing remark that brings a smile to his face.

Even as the human moves bring blunt nails to his stomach, enlightened over the feeling of hands mapping out his body. Not like like the smaller, much more slender fingers of his attendants but something warmer, growing into something familiar. Different in a way that felt good. Tempting.

Carefully, knowing that he'll get some sort of reaction from it, Crowley brings a hand to Aoba's hair. Dipping fingers into strands, slowly combing through, he tilts his head slightly before his lips part to let out a whisper. ]

... Why can't I say no to you?

[ It's not a question he wants answered. When it leaves his mouth it echoes in the back of head, and he realizes that it may seem like he's getting hooked more than an attempt to tease back. Especially when it's not accompanied with his usual drawl, sounding genuine.

No, he'd much rather drag Aoba's attention elsewhere now that that's left him and moves to bring his hands to his belt. Working to unbuckle and pull it out from its loops before dropping somewhere to the beside the man seated before him, popping open the button before dragging his zipper down. It's a swift motion, hands reaching the waistband of his pants before pulling both that and his black boxer briefs down his thighs.

There he hisses out, cool air embracing his swelling cock.

His gaze moves from himself, quarter-lidded eyes staring down at the figure before him. ] Better?

( 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. )

[ He's being lapped up as if Aoba was a puppy, but he'll save that imagery for a situation more appropriate. Those whimpers, the shallow breath, and tongue against his skin has Crowley wanting to curl his fingers and tug on long strands of blue, but he restrains himself. Despite instinct and desire telling him otherwise, there was still that itch in the back of his head that swayed him; the very core of his personality that was still kept together over the course of eight hundred years.

It's so hard not to, though. But if he can't tug and pull as mercilessly as he wants to on hair he'll put all that effort elsewhere. In a kiss, in a bite... who knows.

That thought is thrown out the window and into the cold street the moment a warm tongue meets flesh. He brings the back of his hand up to his mouth, chewing the inside of his cheek to muffle down a groan. ]

That's obvious. [ He comments, but it doesn't sound smug. Just stating a fact.

And when Aoba calls Crowley over, moving back and giving him space, he doesn't have to tell him twice. The human receives his wish of seeing Crowley without any clothing when he pulls his pants down to his ankles and steps out of them, the bed sighing underneath his weight in the process.

Of course he can't keep his hands off of the other man once he has the chance, a similar want similar to Aoba's surfacing when his fingers dip underneath the hem of his shirt and pulls up. He can't help but to stare, observing a toned stomach and chest before his eyes lift further up. It's almost instantly that he pulls himself closer, a parted mouth meeting a pair of lips in a heated kiss. ]

( when his shirt's tugged up Aoba's breath catches, cool air of the room kissing his skin and making him squirm, heels pressing into the covers and rubbing down, barest friction serving no real purpose. the gaze on him, however, he minds not at all—maybe it's no surprise, but he likes having Crowley's focus.

just like he likes kissing him, too. the mouth on his is welcome and Aoba opens his in return instantly, tilting his head and rolling his tongue. Crowley's mouth is something a little more familiar to him now but that doesn't make him any less greedy for it; he sucks, flicks his tongue, coaxing and hungry and not caring if it gets messy.

in this, he hooks a possessive arm around the other man's waist. the first time he's really been able to skim that back, appreciate strong shoulderblades and graze fingernails along the dip of spine. nice. as that hand wanders he grabs for one of Crowley's wrists with the other, wanting him to touch a certain way—guiding, bringing that hand to the side of his chest, wanting to feel palm against his ribs and the pressure of fingers down hard against that sensitive area. not far, his heart is hammering, quick with growing arousal and excitement.

hff. he'd wanted to roll them over so that he'd be on top, earlier, but having Crowley over him... feels good, too. and it's not like he can't do some stuff this way.

drawing his hips up, wanting as much contact as possible, Aoba begins to wonder just how much he might be able to get away with. so that hand wandering along back trails south as he adds some bite to the kiss, muffled moans from the base of his throat as he skims over Crowey's ass and hooks his hand against the bottom of it, fingers digging into upper thigh and tugging so he can better grind up. )

[ This little introductory touch made, he allows his hand to be moved against ribs and his fingers to dig into skin. Heartbeat echoing across flesh and vibrating against his palm, which in turn has him almost growl into Aoba's mouth. It's such a simple touch, a feeling that humans are accustomed too, but perhaps it's having lost that rhythm that Crowley wants to embrace it.

He leans in more and with gusto, a hard pressure of lips, teeth, and tongue, hoping to taste that greed the human expresses through a kiss. He shows little care of whether or not his fangs scrape against lips or tongue, skin tingling as fire spreads across his chest the moment their bodies make contact.

Crowley breathes, sighs, and soon enough groans; friction in the form of flesh against cotton. It's not satisfying enough even as he brings his other arm to dip into the small of Aoba's back to meet the movement of his hips.

Grinding down, breath hitching in the back of his throat, he drops his hand further down and his fingertips tease the band of the other man's boxers before sliding down. Pulling them down smooth thighs, patience dwindling, Crowley doesn't hesitate to grip onto Aoba's ass with a hungry sort of aggression.

But he wants more--wants to feel more. More warmth, more pleasure, more of whatever Aoba is willing to give to him.

Humans are greedy but so are vampires, in Crowley's defense it's what they want that makes them different. And how they perceive who can and cannot get what they desire.

He moves to his side, then his back, conveniently yet unintentionally bringing the human's wish to life by dragging him on top of him. Parting their lips his hair frames his face and he ignores the way his braid hangs against his shoulder, concentrating on having both hands grip onto Aoba's ass. Massaging him with his palms, tugging him into a familiar angle that causes a soft sigh to roll off of the tip of his tongue. ] Aoba. [ And the name that follows is unintentional, too, brows furrowing. ] Suck me off.

[ Eloquent. ]

( Aoba doesn't care, either. doesn't care if he gets cut while they kiss, tongue and lips burning hot from scrapes. it only fuels the urgency in his kiss; groaning, he whimpers out something that would be a name were it possible for him to be coherent. Crowley. maybe he should be concerned about being so into this and so into a vampire, but he's not. he... can't help what he wants.

noisy and noisier this time, now that they're alone in a private room, Aoba doesn't try to muffle his voice as much as he had the times before. letting himself melt more fully into Crowley, wanting to give as much as he can, wanting to take as much in return. and oh—when Crowley moves back against him he gasps loudly, trembles, squirms when he feels boxers being tugged down his thighs to help them over his knees so they won't tangle. they end up caught up around his ankles. he doesn't care about that either. too busy rutting, grinding, grip tightening and free hand clawing at the man's back in heated desperation.

then there's a hah of surprise when they're flipped, belly doing delighted summersaults at the switch in position. yeah, having Crowley on him most definitely feels good, but this ♥ view ♥. he can get used to seeing a nude Crowley sprawled out across pillows and mattress. so it's a laugh Aoba gives—genuine, bright, excited, teeth flashing from behind lips bruised from kissing.

it quickly melts into an expression of unbridled ecstasy, laugh trailing into a needy whimper as Crowley's hands continue to work against his ass. crease between his brows and lips turned from a U into an O, eyes lidded, as he presses his hands down on Crowley's chest to roll down against him. it's much better without cotton in the way, underwear having fallen away completely in the turn. the way Crowley says his name has him shivering, aching, wanting—so much. too much.

god, he wants him to say it again. )

Nnh... y—yeah... ( that cracks out, rough and broken from a throat raw from kissing, ) ...wanna taste you.

( it's better than a grunt and point, which Aoba probably would have even responded to. licking his lips, he bows his head and begins trailing his mouth down the other man's stomach, biting and licking, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he heads south, easing back into his knees and ignoring the ache between his thighs in favor of seeking out Crowley's.

which means Crowley can't continue to knead his ass, but that's for the best—Aoba might come too fast at this rate. once he finds Crowley's cock he grips one thigh with his hand, the base with his other so he can lick the head with the flat of his tongue, long blue strands falling around his face and making a curtain, ends tickling against the vampire's hips and legs like little kisses of their own.

the flavor almost has him salivating; Aoba works the long lick into another kiss before parting his lips wider, taking the tip in and swirling his tongue around it. then, turning his head and licking along the side of his length, pumping his hand as he works between taking him in and licking. glancing up with curious eyes, he tries to gauge reactions and figure out what Crowley responds better to before opting to take him in deeper, sucking, rubbing against the roof and walls of his mouth. )

[ The laughter he receives is brief and yet does something unfamiliar in his chest. Obviously no beating heart or flips, it's not anything close to the fire of sexual desire his body has been building since they walked in, he doesn't know how to describe it and opts out of putting any more thought into it than he already has. It's unnecessary; he's just here for the sex.

It helps when he remembers how many people have kissed their way down his chest, to his stomach, following the same motion and ending in the same position of Aoba--at least that's what he forces himself to believe.

This is new, exciting, electrifying, blessed heat meeting his length in exchange of the Aobooty. The lips to the upper half of his body ebbed that wave of heat between his legs and within seconds he's back to experiencing it again, completely unguarded despite knowing all to well what was next.

Crowley moves to rest on his elbows, relaxed and watching with narrowed eyes while quietly maintaining any small, heated sighs escape his throat. Pleasure spreads across his thighs and it's easy to ease them just slightly wider, as it's a decision made on a whim (like most of what Crowley does).

He reaches out once more, hand resting on Aoba's head. Observation from earlier reminds him of what a mess the other man was just from combing through his hair, and while he's certain it can't be possible for him to become anymore flushed he does wonder what would happen if he did it again. He inclines his head to the side, fingers dipping into hair and nails meeting scalp, gently teasing. ]

Mm--... hnnh! [ A lush groan rattles out of his throat, sucking in a breath in response to the work on his cock. Slender fingers and a warm mouth, his cock twitches and he closes his eyes briefly as an all too evident red begins at the back of his neck and builds to his cheeks. It's an expression he doesn't want anyone seeing but he doesn't dare to break away from any sort of eye-contact.

And before you ask: no, he still doesn't understand why Aoba couldn't keep himself from looking. ]

( so not only is Crowley way too sexy, he doesn't see how people would wanna stare? that's just unfair.

even if Aoba tends to lean more toward receiving rather than giving, with Crowley making those noises, coloring like that, he's starting to lean... in the opposite direction, despite previous promises. but seeing if Crowley's up for getting fucked isn't something he's prepared to act on; there are fingers in his hair and the feeling makes him at first shudder, then groan, the vibration heavy in his mouth as he somehow manages to keep working it through the heady sensation of pinch and tingle.

he can't color more, no, but a cold sweat breaks out across his forehead and his skin feels clammy. a bead trickles down the curve of his spine and shirt clings to his body, both nearly driving him crazy. bangs disheveled, uncomfortable with cotton trying to hold fast to his flesh, cock swollen and hard, Aoba's a mess if there ever was one. yet he doesn't care about that, either.

no... what he does care about is how Crowley's parted his legs wider. that's when the hand grabbing thigh slips, turns palm up, moves underneath his erection to knead at skin there, working fingers against the other man's balls as he continues to suck him off. dragging his mouth up, Aoba locks eyes with the vampire again as he draws his head back, a thread of saliva stretching and breaking from between lips and cock. )

Feels good?

( a cheeky question yet an earnest one, something he asks with a little smile as he licks his lips of the salty flavor that's graced them. he's much less concerned about getting off, himself, right now—if Crowley feels good, that makes him feel good.

he takes the pause as a chance to readjust himself, wrapping his arms around Crowley's hips so he can jerk the other man more toward him. he may not have a vampire's strength but he's strong enough to get his point across, kissing the swollen head again. )

Are you gonna come for me...?

( sorry he's like this )

Edited 2017-02-28 19:35 (UTC)

[ Once you've seen your own face for over eight hundred years and knew you were hot back in the day--listen, it's just a vampire thing. ]

Shit. [ He curses between sighs, fingers combing through hair in response to that vibration around his cock. Coaxing him, he feels the need to grip and set Aoba in place and it may appear that he was in the process of doing that when his fingers twitch. Index and middle finger coming together and accidentally pinching hair.

And it doesn't help when he feels fingers curl and massage his balls, breath hitching in the back of his throat before he tosses his head back. All too sensitive to both that and how warm Aoba's mouth feels working up his length, lust-filled eyes observing as he draws back and leaves a brief line of saliva.

He scoffs, matching that smile with one of his own. ]

Yeah. [ He answers, breathing slow. ] You're good.

[ Surprise, surprise--Aoba is a man of surprises, his pull unexpected and causing Crowley's eyes to widen before the head of his cock is being embraced with another kiss. Soft lips, warm breath, he feels frustrated within this grasp but in some odd, strangely addicting, sort of way.

Crowley's not wishy-washy, he likes what he likes and dislikes what he dislikes, and at the end of the day he really likes this. This confidence, that mischievous little grin he receives... it brings a desire to take the human in every way possible. ]

Depends if you'll be able to get me there.

[ To that edge. It's not impossible considering its been done before but they didn't stop to chat mid-thrust the last time Crowley had his cock out.

But he sits up, hands digging into the mattress as he settles. ] Hey, take off your shirt and close your eyes for a second.

( god!! he'd take a picture to stare at instead but he's not even sure if the guy will show up in photographs or not?! he'd buy a whole calendar of Crowley pinups and support the Vampire Underground if that were even a thing.

the answer makes the corners of his mouth quirk up a bit more, a rush of warmth not from arousal but from the pleasure of a compliment. that he'd done a good job. even if he isn't going hard to try to make Crowley come right now—now, there's a little room for flirting, teasing, dragging it out and delighting in everything rather than falling into a quickie.

not that quickies aren't good. the last two times have definitely been good. yet there's something satisfying about sucking Crowley's cock until it's fully hard and then teasing, leaving kisses or licks, jerking his hand to get a nice sound or two. or more than two. now that he's heard him better than the last times, he'd like to hear more. )

I'll get you there.

( that's said with confidence, too, as he leans his palms down on Crowley's thighs squeezes them, golden green eyes burning bright as he leans foward to be closer to the other man's face. a little cocky, a little coquettish, offering a huff of a laugh after those words that's light, breathless.

but then he says that and Aoba blinks, a little surprised—take of his shirt and... close his eyes? is Crowley going to dare him to get him to come with his eyes closed or something? ah... is Crowley secretly shy? that's kind of cute. like Aoba doesn't equally dislike showing his own sex faces or anything. )

... Mm, okay.

( well, it's fine. the shirt's clinging to him anyway and it'll feel better with skin on skin contact. so Aoba leans back and takes his time stripping, crossing his arms and catching his shirt by the hem, revealing toned stomach and chest first before peeling it away from his head and arms.

tossing that behind him like a college student after a doubleshift, he stretches his arms over his head and looks at Crowley again, still wondering about the request but obliging anyway.

closing his eyes, he pats one hand down on Crowley's leg, merely for the reassurance of his presence even though he knows the man is there. )

This fine...?

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the fucking hearts

that's the gay intensifying

i thought they already reached max levels of gay

never underestimate a bl protag