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crowley "begone thotticus" eusford ([personal profile] eusford) wrote in [community profile] collegestories2017-02-17 10:20 am

— BEDSHEETS AND MORNING ROSE



*aoba voice* so like... is the good end dick just as good as the bad end dick. i'm asking for a friend.
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (haha youd have to stab me)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-04 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
( love like you love a really great cheese sandwich...!! b-baka...

and, wow, don't kinkshame him. there's almost certainly something nearby they can use: in the nightstand table drawer that's gone completely ignored, for instance. but Aoba is used to most of his encounters not involving it (stares at DMMD and then stares at the camera like on The Office) and... he... does like the pain. only when it's mixed in with a healthy dose of pleasure, not into getting hit with no gentleness, but he is wildly turned on now.

which is why he can only make a noise at the masochist comment. like... what other guy has let Crowley bite him and raw him all on one go? maybe some, but probably not as eager as Aoba. the lube would probably have been welcome if Crowley didn't tease him so much—it'd be devastating if the vampire pulled away from him even to just go get it. so he'll deal.

... even if Crowley's being gentle at first. his back's pressed into the covers and he squirms, yet meets those kisses with a startled but pleased sigh. even when he's begging to be ruthlessly fucked, he'll always appreciate tender, intimate kisses. but the there's—Oh yeah, I forgot one more thing—and Aoba stiffens, looking up at the vampire and at his charming smile. watching him line up is fucking hot but ribbed with anxiety from what he's going to say... is this where the blindfold comes in?

no.

ah. oh. he gets it now. gets why Crowley said he'd want the blindfold. he wishes it were just a blindfold.

but he can't complain, not when he's being driven into and pain and pleasure flair up together in a bubbling mess. he cries out, hitting his head back into the mattress, hands straining so hard at the belt that the chafing begins to get bloody, scratches from struggles against unrelenting leather.

You're not allowed to come unless I say so.

...

... ... what...

.... ..

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???

his breaths are fast and shallow as his heart hammers dangerously in his chest, lungs not getting enough air and making him dizzy, lightheaded, as he's overcome with a feeling of being full and a sharp ache of pain at his core.

frankly, it's a miracle he doesn't come from the penetration alone. the best answer he can respond with is a series of broken noises as he arches his back, presses his shoulders down into the mattress. getting used to his size is the most difficult thing—he's had Crowley before but only once, so he's still somewhat unfamiliar. the position had been vastly different as well, with Aoba the one in control. this way, it's the opposite. when he's found a breath that decides to stick around he grits out: )


C... Cro... Crowley...

( looking up at the other man from lidded eyes, hot and bothered, hair a mess across his face and shoulders. somehow through all of this he manages to muster up a scowl, tiny lines in his chin and between his eyebrows, )

Why... why can't I come...?

( why you gotta be so rude )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (i am traveling through space and time)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-05 02:35 am (UTC)(link)
( he is absolutely not paying attention to what Crowley's saying after the man starts moving. not when he's finally doing what Aoba wants, holding his hips and thrusting into him in a way that rips a cry from his throat. that angle. it sends a twisting sensation straight to his core, making him gasp and shiver, tremble, squirm, kick his legs before awkwardly hooking them around the vampire.

even if Aoba's appalled by the order he's still trying to obey. his fingers twitch and it's only by clinging to that order that he doesn't try to grab himself and stroke, even if his arms do swing between going down and going up. he settles on up and over his head as he twists his fingers into the covers, tugging, using that an anchor as he rolls his hips and tries to meet those thrusts. squeezing in response, against the heat inside of him, trying to get it deeper.

it hurts. of course it does—not only is he lacking any lubricant but Crowley only teased his ass a little. yet the pain mixes with an undeniable pleasure that he's dying to get more of, a mess of delighted tremors, a euphoric expression etched across his features.

yeah, Crowley, you picked up a weird one. just leave him in the garbage cans outside when you head home.

the look soon extends into a laugh—a faint thing that grows stronger, breathless and excited, drenched with low-pitched allure and honeyed sweetness, rasped from bruised lips. )


Crowley, ( the man's name groaned in that same honey tone, ) Crowley.

( orders or not, Aoba's going to have no control over his orgasm, inevitable certainty it is. maybe if he'd been given those orders from the start. maybe if they had used lube and erased the painful elements that so easily sent him over the edge. maybe if he paced himself earlier and didn't get so drunk on seeing the man naked. seriously, maybe if Crowley wasn't so damn hot.

maybe, maybe, maybe. what he feels now is that prickling sensation at the small of his back, the ache in his groin swinging up hard, and that mix of numb and intense all at once crushing down on his chest like a weight.

rutting, grinding, hips jerking and his cock twitches as pre trails, warning about his impending orgasm before he can even managed to croak out the words. thoughts blown from his mind, he's a being of desire and want, trying to reach a goal. he's sweating, skin gone clammy with a wash of cold and hot flashes. god. god. he feels Crowley right down in the marrow of his bones. )


I—I can't, I'm gonna... I'm gonna...!

( and unless Crowley stops him, which he probably won't, because telling Aoba to do things and watching him fail must also a kink of his, he's going to come. hard. whoops. he's so hopeless at following orders. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (the "drama" fiasco is over)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-05 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
( post-climax but still reeling, Aoba barely hears Crowley's chiding words. he's a mess of nerves melting together, everything feeling particularly sharp and sensual, from the covers under his back to the man moving against him.

or—the man that was moving against him. Aoba lets out a forlorn groan when Crowley slows and pulls out. the loss of that full, stretched feeling is crushing, and in his opinion punishment enough for losing a battle they both knew he couldn't win. he had wanted Crowley to finish in him, wanted to feel the trickle of come down between his thighs when he got up later.

which is why he grits out a whine: )


Not fair.

( but he doesn't fight back. can't, as pliant and satisfied as he's become in his post-orgasm state, absolute putty in the vampire's hands much as Aoba wants to latch onto him again. which is why he only grunts when flipped, making another wanting noise while shoving his face down into the comforter. the belt still holds his wrists together tight and the chafing makes them hurt, a slow thud, a steady beat. it's a brief moment of outright sulking, because damn it, he doesn't want to be punished, he wants Crowley to keep fucking him. it feels so empty without him inside.

sulking is, however, very hard when there's a mouth on your back. the bite has him choking on a gasp, jerking his stomach down and shoulders up as his head still hangs, strands of hair falling all around. )


Chha...!

( short, pained, yet also delighted. the tongue has him squirming and rubbing his sensitive cock down into the mattress, sparks of stars behind his eyelids.

... it leads into something even worse. an embarrassing, revealing position, and even when he's malleable as warm butter he turns red at that comment. and the whistle. )


Wha...?! ( just what is he doing...!! a question that's quickly answered and makes his brain blitz out. ) Ah! A... ahh...?? Hahh?

( oh god. oh god. the charge that twists through him despite having already come is alarming, way too overwhelming, and his cock almost hurts from the sudden spike of arousal too soon after an orgasm. it's also mixed with embarrassment so intense he feels like he might pass out born from the act itself, the fact that he likes it so much, and shame from knowing that he shouldn't like it. it's a classic punishment. the only thing that would wreck him more is if he'd been tossed over Crowley's knee.

... so he's trying to wiggle away, pushing forward and squirming, rolling, being blatantly disobedient. he's honestly not even thinking, just panting and dragging his fingers into the covers, pulling on them hard enough that it messes up the bed more than their fucking had. )


D-don't... ( a few more shallow breaths, a whimper, ) ... don't wanna be punished...

( like anyone does. except he... does? it's just too much for his delicate flower heart. )

Crowley.

( he huffs the vampire's name out again, frustrated and embarrassed and turned on as he continues to try and wiggle away from another spank. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (it happens to the best of us)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-05 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
( that voice is calming. Aoba stops his wiggling at it, though his heart still races, feeling like it's hitting his ribs. especially when he's on his stomach like this. even the hand light on his thigh is good—nothing he shies away from, shifting a little at its touch to rub his hips down against the soft texture of bedding. the high from his orgasm hasn't gone away and won't for at least ten minutes, knowing from past experience. )

Mm. ( yeah. he does want Crowley to fuck him—he knows the other still hasn't gotten off, and that's a little frustrating too. Aoba doesn't like being the only one. ) Yeah, I... yeah.

( a deal... ? he turns his head to try and peek, but reduced to closing his eyes and shuddering at the way warm breath flits across his hair. the cock against his ass doesn't help either; he may have come already but it's hot, strained, and Aoba wants it. and it's a tantalizing offer that's presented itself. which is worse? the belt, or the spanking? they bother him in two vastly different ways. the belt keeps his hands from grabbing at the vampire, the spanking makes him feel... incredibly... strange. biting his lip, he cracks his lids again and looks up from the corner of his eye at the man hovering.

.... it's really not that hard of a choice. or so he thinks, swallowing, throat aching from all the noises that have been dragged from it. )


I want you... to... ( swallowing again, he tries to find his voice, ) ... take off the belt. Wanna touch you. ( which means he's sealed his fate with this choice, accepting five spanks as punishment for a crime he couldn't not commit. seriously. unfair. but for some reason he keeps speaking: )

Only( woah what's this, coming back at him with a revision?! )—only, if you kiss... wherever you hit.

( he sure is asking Crowley to kiss his ass, yep. look, if he's gonna be spanked, he wants a kiss for each spank he gets. it'll be obvious as to where because his skin colors easily, no doubt going to be pink even after just five. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (it happens to the best of us)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-06 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
( the combination of Crowley's palm pressed over his heart while wearing that expression is... deadly. completely deadly. something twists in Aoba's gut, a stronger urge of desire that he can't quite explain, euphoric and confusing in its own way. good but... it gives him weird urges: crawling into the man's lap wrap arms tight around his waist so he can just ... rest his cheek against that broad chest with no other purpose than to simply be close.

eurgh. it's not an impulse he wants to dissect right now, in the middle of no-strings-attached sex. especially not when he's about to be spanked. but that's a look Aoba won't soon forget, likely to think back on it later because of how—stirring it is. at least the vampire's having fun. he's cute when his eyes light up like that, even if it's at Aoba's personal incredible embarrassment. yet, even with that... he likes it too. more than he'd ever really admit.

the kisses to his hair send a warmth through him as always, a soft sigh of pleasure at the tendrils of delight paired with the vague pinch, but it's very soft, barely a thing compared to how nice it feels. for the record—all comments are deemed as teasing, even if there's a part of him that really likes what's being said. but that warmth is nothing compared to what he feels when Crowley laughs like that. such mirth in that laugh that it's like spraying a can of aerosol into a trendy bath candle. oh. Aoba's cheeks stain red again but it's not from embarrassment this time. no, it's a deep rooted pleasure at the sound of Crowley's voice reaching a new height, making him squirm against the bed again. he's watching as the vampire swipes his bangs aside and looks at him, breath caught up in his throat, and not even a little because he's dreading a spanking. )


It's just what I want. ( is his murmured response, glancing away and needing a second to get his heart together again. it's not so hard when Crowley tells him to go face down and ass up. ) Tha... ... ... okay.

( he's made his choice. shifting and way, way too aware that he's being watched, Aoba positions himself on his knees and bows his head, damn sure to plant it right into the covers because he can't handle Crowley seeing whatever stupid face he's going to make at this. rear up and tips of his ears burning, he pauses, fingers digging into the blanket when he realizes that the belt hasn't come off yet. )

Wait, what about—? ( he nods his face up with the realization, though he doesn't change his position otherwise, ) The belt...?

( he's... gonna take it off now, right?! )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (i am traveling through space and time)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-07 03:56 am (UTC)(link)
( boo. give him the chance for a little sass, won't you? he'd be happy to tell stories of clearance shoppers and how he wants them to just not.

but Crowley isn't going to let him whisper those sweet nothings into his ear—maybe, at least, not right now. that's a thought that doesn't completely escape him either. something like... hm, maybe, he'll be able to give Crowley a little taste of his own medicine..? teasing. not malicious, of course, but he'd like to hear something like those earlier noises again when he'd been giving head and thinking how cute the man looked, enough that Aoba wanted to fuck him. so much for flipping the script; Crowley flipped it right back, and ugh, it's hot.

of course, he has no idea that he's teasing with just his body language. he's dwelling on having to get spanked five times while wearing the belt. seriously...?! it's not the worst thing but frustrates him anyway as he twists his wrists, tugging on the bedding again. it's okay. he can do this. five. five. five. it's not that bad.

he can— )
... haa. ( the soft touch of lips against his ass evokes a shudder as he arches his back, a different reaction than pain brings. it's gentle and only gentle against a sensitive place—he had been fucked and spanked. ) Uh...n. ( and then there's a hand massaging at the other side, feeling particularly nice considering that sweet, heady afterglow's still ticking at his skin. )

Co—ah!

( a sharp cry out at the strike, though it's not completely unexpected. Crowley doesn't like to give warnings; Aoba's beginning to learn that much. doesn't stop him from being loud before biting down hard on his lip, muffling the noise as his eyelids flutter and his blood starts to rush south again.

n... no. crap. it's way too soon for that. yet he can't stop the dizzying spin of arousal that burns at his core, the way his muscles tense. no way. is it because Crowley's just that hot, that the things they like match up so well, and that damn face the man made earlier...? but there's no way Aoba can handle coming twice before the vampire comes once. that's just—unfair. all he wanted to do was to get Crowley to come once!! that's all!!! is he also weirdly competitive...? he's weirdly competitive, isn't he. Aoba always picks up the weirdoes. hot, but weirdoes.

the word grits out, weak: )


O... one.

( watch him not count and get punished again, oh my god. he'll go home and Ren will have many concerns about how Aoba just collapses into the bathtub, wearing clothes, while the shower's running. help him, dog one true love. or something.

but Ren's not here to judge with his balls-scraping-the-ground voice. hissing out a breath, Aoba quickly follows up by swallowing hard, having bitten the inside of his mouth enough to bleed and taste blood in his spit. pale skin blossoms bright pink and red from the strike, showing up almost instantly. he can feel the dull throb just as acutely as he still feels it inside from being screwed.

this... is... really less of a punishment than it should be. Aoba's liking it too much. which is obvious with the way he squirms, waiting for the touch of lips against his skin again, chewing his lip and tucking his face down to try to keep from sight.

there's a low, longing whimper that only small small text can properly convey: )

... Crowley.
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (no i didn't drop this all on the floor)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-07 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
( if Crowley really did leave, Aoba would be likewise disappointed. that they didn't do more, that he wasn't able to make him feel good too—because that matters to him, hookup or not. at this point it wouldn't even be fair to classify the man as a stranger, a one and done, because three times is steady on the path to a habit. sure, a habit can be kicked... but it's not easily forgotten.

the next kiss likewise elicits a squirm; a scrunching of eyebrows as he huffs out, bottom dully throbbing with the echo of each smack. eyes screwed shut, there's no way for him to notice Crowley admiring his dick and its new interest in what's going on, but if he could notice he'd be flattered. it's not as if getting sucked off last time wasn't great or anything. Aoba's absolutely the weirder one between them considering the fangs thing just made it that much hotter of an experience.

no, the only pleasure he has to focus on is that gentle press of lips against his warmed skin. and he thinks that he's ready for the next one, making a promise to himself that he's going to stay quiet this time—and fails utterly, gasping hard when Crowley growls his name like that before there's another sharp sting. damn... he really does suck at holding back. )


Two( a choked noise as he inhales quick, legs quivering with effort to keep from dropping down onto the bed. desperate isn't new for Aoba, now, and he's desperate to get the belt off so he can wrap his arms around him, grab the vampire close and keep him there. if Crowley fell into them, Aoba wouldn't complain, either. but before he can beg for the removal of the belt now he's smacked again, position faltering as he tries to keep upright. ) Th...r....ee.

( that last question... what... kind of question is that?! Aoba swallows, resting more of his weight onto his hands, but it doesn't stop his arms from shaking. when he answers his voice cracks, throat dry from crying out so much: )

Of course, I... yeah, I.... want... to hold you.

( panting, he refuses to give Crowley what he wants, won't say his name again. it pushes at his lips but he bites down again, stubbornly keeping it to himself. )

Two more, so... please...

( ... can he do this? he's been so awful at everything else so far. but he's also quite determined despite the very real possibility of not being able to hold up, muscles burning from both the position and their earlier fooling around. Aoba wants what he wants and that is something he's not willing to give up on so easily.

so he pushes himself back up with effort, panting, covered in sweat and flushed from head to toe, refusing to collapse now. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (i'll go in wherever the wind takes me)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-08 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
( at first, Aoba's not sure what's going on. when he's pushed he goes over easily, half because he's getting tired holding the position, half because he's not expecting to be toppled. for Crowley, it must be like poking a baby first learning to walk and watching it fall on its bottom. )

Nn..? ( a soft noise of confusion. did he do something wrong? he didn't—so when Crowley removes the belt despite two spanks left out of his punishment, Aoba's stomach flips. what does... this mean? the unsettled feeling doesn't go away, only worsens when the vampire examines the chafing around his wrists. then—then laces their fingers together just how Aoba likes, and: ) ... ah.

( the press of lips against his wrists draws a shiver, goosebumps prickling across warmed skin. it does hurt, yet... right now, he doesn't even notice it. not when he's watching Crowley like this. rapt fascination as his heart thuds painfully, like it really might just... crack, from too much trying to shove itself in there. those scrapes will hurt more when the adrenaline's died down but even then, Aoba won't care about them. it's fine.

seriously... how can he even think about some stings or bruises when Crowley's looking at him like that? it's something like what he'd seen earlier only... not. it's not anything he gets from the man's expression—if anything, that's gone flat, reflecting none of the earlier mirth or dominance. what's compelling is what lies in his eyes, like he's... asking for something, wanting something, and doesn't know how to ask for it. maybe Crowley doesn't even understand it himself. Aoba ... has an idea. or, rather, a feeling, whatever Crowley asking for striking a chord with something more natural, instinctual, that makes Aoba move wordlessly.

crawling into his lap, pressing chest to chest, though Aoba's positioned himself to have a bit of height by resting on his knees. one hand he keeps clasped with Crowley's for now. the other, he brings up to stroke his thumb across the vampire's cheek, tracing underneath his eye at first before moving to his lips, skimming along the bottom one before leaning down and pressing a kiss against his mouth. not the heated, lustful kisses of earlier. this is soft, tender in a way that none of the kisses before have been, a whole different kind of desire. it's brief, yet for all its briefness he pours a lot into it—a lot he doesn't understand, some he does but shouldn't feel.

and before he can do anything stupid he turns his face away, tucking it down against the slope of Crowley's throat. his arms find their way around in a tight embrace as he rests there, nuzzling close, feeling himself calm and melt against the other man. )


... Crowley.

( a soft utterance against Crowley's throat as he breathes in his scent.

there's no doubt that he still wants to have sex. he wants to get Crowley off, to make him feel good, for them to feel good together—but he wants this, too. whatever it's turning out to be. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (i am traveling through space and time)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-09 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
( a heartbeat...

a wry thought: does Crowley miss having a heartbeat? does he miss being... human? it's not something he thought too much about before, yet... that's how it is, isn't it? he used to be human. Aoba may know next to nothing about vampires and what might be true about them, but... that much has to be the case, doesn't it?

but he doesn't ask. it's on the tip of his tongue and he swallows it back like a bitter pill, instead laughing at the comment about their neighbors. )


There are things even you find weird? ( the quiet moment's broken, maybe, but Aoba won't forget it. even if something like this... probably means nothing to Crowley, maybe even something he does with every guy he fucks. where's the point in getting attached to a man he can't keep? leaning back, Aoba cocks a quizzical brow, ) Now I kinda wanna know.

( except he's not really interested in more talking... about other people, about idle thoughts. dropping an arm, he wraps his fingers around Crowley's cock, beginning to stroke with slow, long gestures. twisting his wrist, moving in a rhythm. seriously, why deny himself so much—? Aoba's looking to ride him at least once during this, plus some other stuff. is he really gonna try and keep the same boner popped through multiple rounds? )

Does this mean you'll fuck me the right way, now?

( Aoba's already feeling up to a second round for himself, afterglow having dimmed and refractory period swiftly joining. pressing his forehead gently against the vampire's, he studies those red eyes up close, barely blinking. they're... pretty. were they always red? if not, what were they before...? )

Want you against the wall. Can we?
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (haha youd have to stab me)

omg... but i love it tho???

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-10 04:56 am (UTC)(link)
( I've never told you how old I am, have I?

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. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (if you want something done)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-10 03:49 pm (UTC)(link)
( 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. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (the "drama" fiasco is over)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-11 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
( the hand on his cock makes Aoba choke, stumbling over himself as he keeps rolling his hips, a dull ache building in his core from the work of muscle. there's nothing else but Crowley, no one else but Crowley. he's focused on the vampire's scent, his sounds, the way he feels as their bodies move together. the only other contender for his attention is the wall he's being pushed into, bare skin chafing against the textured surface, but it's because Crowley's fucking him against it. the way he hits that bundle of nerves has Aoba forgetting his own damn name.

all he can think is to cling, keep himself pressed hard against this man. and he does. the hand working at his cock draws new dampness to its tip, a bubble of pre smearing across hot, sensitive skin and evoking a generous shiver. c-crap... again, he's not gonna last that long, absolute putty Crowley's hands, hands that always just seem to know how to touch him and drive him past any limits he may of thought he had. why is he so good...? why?

tongue against his skin and Aoba's squirming, swallow hard, grasping on as hard as he can as goosebumps prickle his flesh. bite me. it's a sudden, violent urge, wanting full circle—of Crowley in him, and of him in Crowley by hot blood nourishing and coating the other man's throat. but he can't find the words now, sweating and rutting as he is, though he manages to watch Crowley's expression when he comes. before he shoves his face into Aoba's neck, anyway.

turning his head much as he can, Aoba plants a wet kiss against the side of the vampire's head: )
Good. ( good boy. breathless, pleased, as his own climax creeps up on him a second time. swifter than the first but more powerful from the continued stimulation, making Aoba tense as he lifts his head, offering a wider expanse of throat as he arches forward. he can feel it dripping against his stomach and against his inner thighs, hot and sticky, making him more of a mess than he was before. )

I'm... hahh...hn...

( his warning comes way too slow but it doesn't matter all that much. keeping arms tight around the other man, dizzy with orgasm. if the first was like setting a house ablaze, quick and all at once, the second feels like the slow encroachment of lava in his veins, turning his bones into brittle dust. )

Are you... do you want to... ( swallowing again, Aoba tucks his head, too, pressing a kiss against the sweep of muscle between shoulder and neck offered to him, ) You can bite me, if you want to.

( an offer, and a genuine one. if Crowley's hungry, if he wants to bite, then... Aoba's okay with it. but if not, that's okay too. whatever Crowley's wanting now. whatever he needs. )
frequence: <user name=bitemark> (i'll go in wherever the wind takes me)

[personal profile] frequence 2017-03-11 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
( kisses to his throat feel nice, almost ticklish, and Aoba chuckles low while unwinding, flooded with satisfaction and delight. Crowley feels good against him. if he could, he'd keep him here like this forever. flush, warm, sweaty, pushed up against him. it's all just—really good.

honestly, Aoba's surprised when Crowley shakes his head—did he not taste good enough...? but then the vampire explains and Aoba makes a murmur of agreement; he had fallen right to sleep after getting home the first time, exhausted from both sex and bloodloss.

sheets feel cool when his back hits them. soothing, against still sticky and bothered skin. looking up from where he's spread out, strands of blue fanning across white sheets, he studies Crowley's face as he says that he wants Aoba awake. his gaze is only narrowed when he gasps, arching his back as he looses that stretched out, full feeling, but eases back onto the bed lazily. comfortable, feeling the dredges of sleep anyway, but they're mind and he fights them off with no effort. )


Okay. ( he'll stay awake. maybe Crowley wants another round? that's the best reason Aoba can come up with. it doesn't matter that much, though. ) Come here.

( his arms are open and he's gently tugging on Crowley's shoulders, trying to pull the man's head against his chest, so he can thread his fingers through the hair he's thoroughly mussed up.

if Crowley obliges him, he'll guide him to the spot right over his heart. not intentionally, it's merely the most comfortable for him to comb his fingers through hair and hug close, cuddling, showing affection through touch. his heart's still beating hard but beginning to slow, trying to return to a normal pace.

it's with a short laugh, a mild vibration of his chest, that Aoba says: )


You're not even a little tired, are you?

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