collegestories | — BEDSHEETS AND MORNING ROSE

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— 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.

Hah?

[ Punctuated with suspicion and curiosity Crowley's eyes fixate on how pathetically the man tries to wiggle out of reach. He smile widens, showing teeth, and had there been a still beating heart in his chest he's certain that it would be racing at this point. That itch in the back of his head, the monster, takes a huge role in as to why he finds something so intoxicating about the scene. ]

If you didn't want to be punished then you should have listened. [ His voice is low, calming, leaning forward to place a hand on crimson sheets and hovering over the human. It's a position he's familiarized himself with when in the face of humans, both in out and of the bedroom, but for one reason or another his first reaction while settling isn't to bite.

No, biting would result in Aoba growing too tired far too quickly and Crowley hasn't even gotten off once. He'll wait patiently, playfully, other hand grabbing the smaller individual by his thigh. It's nothing possessive, light enough that he can pull back, but would he really do that after what Crowley has to say? ]

You want me to fuck you, don't you? In this position, against the wall... you said it yourself that you want it hard enough so that you can't think properly. If you run off like this I can't do that~ [ His knee sinks into the mattress, body coming closer and shifting his hips so that the length of his cock brushes against plush cheeks. He dips forward, bringing his face closer and breathing against strands of hair as he asks: ] How about we make a deal? If you don't want to get spanked then we keep the belt on, but if you want it off... you'll just have to let me do it five times.

So, Aoba, which will you choose?

( 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. )

[ Having stopped it wasn't his heart that echoed in his ears but the human below him. Beating rapidly, dangerously, he melts into the sound of it and can't help himself from bringing the hand on smooth, pale thighs to move up. His fingers skim the smaller's side, then his ribs, sprawling across the middle of his chest and embracing the heart now against his palm.

Crowley's expression is a mixture of things he can't describe; arousal, dominance, some other emotion he'll claim is impossible for a vampire to feel after eight hundred years (and no you can't guess it), but his eyes lit up and it's obvious that he's having fun.

Who wouldn't in this position? With someone who continues to step over that line, or perhaps Aoba simply doesn't have a line and they're both on equal terms of their likes and dislikes in bed... who knows. ]

Do you? [ Teasing. ] You haven't complained once about it, you've done so good. [ He comes closer, lips brushing against Aoba's hair before kissing strands of blue. They're soft, gentle, kisses, carefully brushing away hair so that he can kiss the back of his neck. ]

I'm so proud of you.

[ Is he teasing? Is he bullshitting? Aoba can make that decision on his own.

But then Aoba makes that little comment. Wow. He's really telling him to kiss his ass.

Crowley sits up almost immediately, blinking once with wide, red eyes, initially silent before his mouth opens and he erupts into laughter. Body shaking with mirth, voice reaching a new high that's so unexpected that his throat dries quickly. ]

Is that it? Haha... ah. [ He calms down, bringing a hand to his forehead before reaching to comb through the front side of his hair. ] You're really brave asking a vampire to do that.

[ But he smiles, eyes narrowing with lust. ]

Position yourself for me, face down and ass up.

( 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?! )

[ Crowley is going to wish he died eight hundred years ago so he would have never had the chance to meet Aoba. A human whose hair is too sensitive, who laughs sweetly to the painful burn of bruised lips and aching hips, who doesn't flinch after getting bitten by someone society labels as a monster--and who Crowley openly admits himself. He's not human, he shouldn't be associating with humans, and yet he's here and being pulled into Aoba's orbit like all the other hot guys in the local area. How convenient. ]

What you want, hm... [ He hears him crisp and clear, like he always had. ] Perhaps I'll have you whisper in my ear all the things you want.

[ But watch Aoba's smartass tell him how he wants to eat something. Or that he wants a better paycheck. Honestly he's predicting everything beforehand so he doesn't have to make that teasing remark into a reality.

And from that he focuses on the man before him. The arch of Aoba's back, the way he moves so fluidly, how it's so obvious that he appreciates the fact that he'll be unseen in such a position... Crowley bites into his tongue and vaguely tastes hints of his own blood as he restrains himself. Holy shit. Perhaps if he was more malicious than he was then he'd simply grab the man by his hips and push inside of him without spanking or removing the belt, but that pang of pain stirs him in the right direction. ]

I'll take it off once you've had all five.

[ It's only fair? What if he gets three in and decides that he can't take anymore? It'd be unfair.

Placing hands on toned thighs he leans down, gripping onto his confidence as he assumes a position most vampires wouldn't be seen dead in. But in Crowley's opinion their unwillingness to adventure out is what makes a majority of them so boring, and why he sticks to the side of someone who killed all his friends. Obviously he's no saint in making good decisions but it must not be too bad if he somehow landed here if you just... ignore the first sentence of this response. ] And if you can't take all five then it stays on. [ Moving down, slowly, his presence is known as breath hits the smooth skin of Aoba's rear before he's pressing a kiss where he had struck earlier. Rising back up almost immediately a hand travels up to massage the other cheek that had gone untouched. ]

Count for me, Aoba. This'll be the first.

[ ... Fucking asshole.

And then, without warning, he brings his hand down for a strong smack to his ass. ]

( 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.

[ If it's weird that Crowley's competitive then it's weirder that Aoba can't stand being the only to reach an orgasm in a hookup. Honestly if the vampire had to leave here, right at this moment, he would...

There's no denying he'd be disappointed. Not even over the fact that he didn't get to come, not when he was close with pre dripping from the head of his cock, still painfully hard as he holds his composure together. But he'd be disappointed that he couldn't do more. Play around a little and see what else the human likes and dislikes; given his track record so far Crowley's confident that he'll just continue to conveniently find each and every switch that has Aoba turn into a shaking, needy mess.

Crowley leans down, rewarding the man with another kiss against his ass. Taking his time, treating the reddened skin tenderly, he catches the sight of something obvious out of the corner of his eye: Aoba's cock hanging between his thighs hot and heavy, a complete contrast to pale skin and yet so attractive in that way, too. (Yeah Aoba has?? a nice dick. Okay.) Interestingly enough the idea of having his mouth filled with the other's arousal doesn't disgust him, but that's something pushed aside for the time being.

One.

He's good. He's so good. Every moan and sigh tugs Crowley forward and he feels like he's going to topple over into some unknown place--if it's somewhere in Aoba's arms, though, he can't say that he'd complain. Not when every touch is electrifying and every syllable has him feeling desperate.

Desperate. That's new. ]

Aoba. [ His reply isn't a whimper, nor is it a whisper, Crowley releases the other man's name with something akin to a growl as he raises a hand to harshly drop down and smack the younger's ass. Working quickly, kissing again, he hasn't even brought his head back before he's spanking Aoba for the third time. ] Louder, say my name louder.

[ And it almost comes out as a plea despite his tone. His own cock aching for warmth and touch, denying it as he focuses on what he truly wants ahead of him. ]

You do want to touch me again, don't you?

( 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. )

[ Almost immediately a hand moves to the man's hip for support, quick to notice the drop in his position. Crowley holds him there, possessively, as if keeping him leveled was only for his own pleasurable gain--and for the most part it is. The last thing he needs is for Aoba to lose all the strength in his legs when they have yet to do more. But even if he did it's not like the inability to stand properly would really effect Crowley fucking the other man into the wall.

But what he wants begins to change, shifting elsewhere, and soon enough the number five seems like a far away goal that Crowley is too impatient to wait for. They're seriously two away and that's too much, even if it was something he craved for initially. ] Me too. [ A small murmur, thinking out loud, but he's not the slightest bit embarrassed when realizing what has slipped out of his mouth. It's the truth and he's an honest person, and once you've lived eight hundred years there's little to be embarrassed about.

The next scene is done in silence: using little strength, Crowley pushes Aoba to his side, hovering over and pulling on leather to release the human from its tight grasp. The belt makes a small sound as he tosses it over to the side, eyes flickering from the side of the bed to the man's wrists. Red, with marks of the restraints outlined against his skin, obviously irritated from attempting to free himself and just moving in general. There's no ping of sympathy, but he's careful when he brings fingers to brush against his skin.

Then he's interlocking fingers with the man below him and bringing his arm up, close enough so that he can tilt his head and press his lips against his wrists. Not admiring wounds he's inflicted, because he knows these hurt like hell, but treating them. Kinda. He'll treat them properly later.

And then he hesitates--Crowley never hesitates--fingers curling and gripping onto his hand tightly. This is... weird. Kinda new. A complete contrast from what he initially intended and that simple change in direction is so off that he's confused of what to say or do next. Perhaps that's obvious and Aoba can read right through his facade, because while his face remains neutral his eyes translate to something else. The sexual desire is still there, but behind that is a silent plea:

Please come here. ]

( 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. )

[ Crowley is still somewhat confused of his own actions, attempting to make sense of just what he is doing and why as Aoba comes closer. His expression remains the same, his body just about motionless as warmth and a new sense of tenderness comes radiating off of the other man. This isn't new, he's not inexperienced with having someone come and lay against him, but in this perspective where he's faced with Aoba it's... different.

Then again his interactions with humans have been sparse these past few centuries. With vampire law and little interest to even speak with humans that aren't being used for food, everything about these meetings with Aoba was odd--unusual, completely out of habit for someone of his kind and he's certain that if the wrong person caught wind of this he'd face some form of punishment. A slap on the wrist, in vampire customs, probably spending a few days without blood, so it wouldn't be so bad.

However, if asked, he would say he didn't regret it.

Chest to chest, Crowley unconsciously grips onto Aoba's hand as the unsubtle rhythm of a heart echoes against his ribcage. It's not his own but the closeness of their bodies gives him the playful thought that it is, which is why the corners of his mouth slowly curl up into a smile before their lips interlock. Gentle and soothing, a complete opposite of the whirlwind of heated sighs and gasping breaths from earlier, he hums with mild, lazy delight.

Arms wrap around the smaller's waist, tilting his head slightly. ]

It feels like I've got a heartbeat.

[ He... doesn't know whether or not he should have said that but it's out already and there's no way to take it back. ]

... The people in the room next to us are into some weird stuff. [ And he breaks whatever this moment is with the shitty parts of being a vampire. ] Let's not stay quiet for too long.

( 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?

[ If he had asked Crowley would have answered with a swift and solid no. Time and lack of empathy had changed him over the years; becoming a vampire also made him look at humans in a different perspective and it's definitely not a positive one. He even looks to the human he was before in disgust: a man of faith who prayed and begged to a God who would never come, who took the lives of others in a war they had already lost, he had killed hundreds more as a human than he ever did as a vampire and doesn't miss it.

Even if he spends his days bitterly, wanting to act revenge for faces he can't quite remember, he doesn't miss being human.

He remembers vividly, down to his bones, of the day his heart raced and threatened to tear out of his chest before it just... stopped. To never beat again. But perhaps when his ribs vibrated due to their closeness and the warm, beating heart in Aoba's chest, he found it amusing. He never would have thought that he'd feel anything similar to that again, not even if he got into the intimate space of humans a hundred times before. ]

I've never told you how old I am, have I?

[ Perhaps if he did it'd make sense, but it's not like Aoba's wasting any time once he suggest they move forward. He looks down, noticing the drop in the other man's arm, breathing in slowly as a warm hand wraps around his cock. He had been slowly losing his erection in the midst of their... moment? Whatever the hell you want to call it. And appreciates the way Aoba flicks his wrists and encourages his erection to remain firm against busy digits. ]

Are you saying I haven't been fucking you the right way?

[ But he isn't going to let Aoba do what he wants to him without returning the favor. Repeating the same motion from earlier he brings a hand to his mouth and sucks on index and middle finger, hooking his arm back around and dipping between so that he can press slick fingers against him, into him. Opening him up, adding a second once satisfied and filling Aoba up to his knuckle. ] You should probably do the same to me, [ To his dick and not his ass though, but he doesn't feel like he needs to clarify. Aoba is gonna have to ask nicely if he really wants to fuck Crowley okay!!! ] unless you don't want to.

[ Because he knows with force he can get in, but he offers up the suggestion for Aoba's comfort.

Feverish, wanting, Crowley tugs Aoba closer before he's finally satisfied with the work of his fingers and pulls out. He brings that hand to his own shoulder, tapping it idly. ]

Hold on.

[ Hands find the curves of thighs, fingers hooking underneath and keeping the man balanced against him as Crowley shifts off of the bed and moves them to the nearest wall. Diving forward he leans in to kiss Aoba, moaning into his mouth, a rumbling noise of satisfaction, and teases by pressing his hips firmly against the other man's. But he's selfish, not wishing to wait any more than he has, and soon enough he's depending on Aoba's weight against the wall as he brings a hand to his cock and finding the right spot.

There. There. He has zero willpower after denying his own orgasm earlier and he sinks into Aoba. A rough noise tears from his throat, hand returning to the man's thigh and fingers dig in time for fingers to dig into skin. He says something in (surprise) Latin?? Because saying it in a language Aoba understands might be dangerous or some shit.

And then he's moving--grinding his hips in a circle, his cock enveloped in warmth and he's tempted to keep this position if only because it feels that good. But he knows it's not enough for either one of them, not when they've been waiting for this long, pulling his hips back before he's driving his length back inside. It's accompanied by a low moan, leaning forward and having their foreheads against each other once more as his movements begin to quicken in pace. ]

Edited 2017-03-10 02:18 (UTC)

( 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. )

[ They can play the big ol' Q&A when Crowley's not pushing into Aoba as deep as possible. And preferably not against the wall, the bed was more comfortable and if something came up that he didn't want to answer the vampire could just... act like he's tired and drift to sleep. It's not like Aoba knows that sleep wasn't a requirement for vampires unless that's what the media portrayed.

Anyway. ]

Aoba. [ A hitch in his voice, like something was breaking in his throat. ] Aoba.

[ Ah, he's trying to rock back into him and he can't help but feel appreciative of that. Especially when it's accompanied with the way his name is said; wanting, needing, it's unspoken consent to do more and in the back of his head he hears when Aoba told him to do what he wants.

He wants to fuck him. Hard and recklessly enough to where the people on the other side possibly respond with a complaint of their own. Or find themselves even more horny, Crowley wouldn't blame them. Not when Aoba's loud and his voice alone has his cock twitching with desire.

He pulls out, pulling Aoba off the wall just enough so that when he thrusts back in he's slamming him against the wall. Nothing that would hurt the other man, but still audible enough that it nearly drowns out the moan that leaves Crowley's lips. He repeats this step a few more times before he keeps Aoba's back against the wall, finding that angle he's becoming more familiar with, a heated groan tearing out of his throat as the entirety of his cock aches with pleasure.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead, panting softly between guttural moans. He's putting so much attention in the work he's performing on Aoba and keeping him balanced in his arm that he can't even hear himself speak. His ears burning up as each and every sound from the other man brings shivers down his spine. ] Baby, [ idek what to say about this ] you're gonna make me come.

( 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. )

[ They're temporary but whenever Aoba digs his nails into his skin there's a pinch of pain. Subtle at first, but if he concentrates hard enough he can feel even the bluntest of nail drag across flesh. He's only thankful of the fact that any injuries would miraculously heal within seconds because he doesn't want to have to deal with the ache later, but the few seconds worth of pain has him continuing to push harder and with shallow breaths. ]

You're squeezing around me so tight.

[ And it doesn't help that the angle they're in helps Crowley drive in deep, aiming at inner walls and soon enough he can find the head of his cock brushing against a bundle of sensitive nerves. Fingers press into thighs, twitching with desire to roam but knowing well enough that he needed to keep them positioned well enough for support.

He guides the other man's thigh to enfold his hips, confident that he's clinging to him before removing a hand to wrap around Aoba's cock. It's warm and twitching against the palm of his hand, he remembers the sight of it from earlier and he subconsciously runs a tongue across his bottom lip before he begins to pump the other man's cock. He finds the rhythm of their movements, toying Aoba at first by going slow but soon enough picking up the pace when the vampire realizes how close he is.

Crowley is hardly paying attention to the neighboring couple who have now put their attention on just what the hell they're doing. Aoba is moaning straight into his ear, clinging onto him, digging into him in both skin and mind, and not to mention he can hear and smell blood coursing rapidly in his veins. It nearly drives him mad with desire to drink from him, leaning in to drag the flat of his tongue up the curve of Aoba's neck and to his jawline.

He grits his teeth, in both denial of his bloodlust and the acceptance of his orgasm. A subtle grimace graces his features as he clenches up, grunting and burying his face into the crook of the smaller's neck as he comes. Hard. ]

Shit! I came... I came.

( 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. )

[ Good. ]

You're good...

[ Crowley continues to pump his cock until he feels Aoba dirtying his fingers, slowly unraveling them once he's certain that the other man is spent. He places his hand against the wall as he catches his breath, considerate enough not to drop the smaller man to the ground.

His hair is a mess thanks to Aoba's constant tugging and his back is sticky with sweat. He's not exhausted, nor is he even close to tired thanks to vampire stamina, but he needs a moment to gather himself before moving again. Breathing in slowly, chest rising and falling as he remained flushed against him. Not close enough to have another moment, but it helps him lazily press kisses along the man's neck.

And then he's given the permission to bite him, and initially Crowley is all too excited to hear those words that it stirs in his stomach. But he stops himself, slowly shaking his head. ] You'll just get tired if I do that.

[ So instead he chooses to lift Aoba from the wall and bring him back to the bed, back placed against the sheets as he slowly lifts himself out of him. Bringing the back of his hand to his mouth and biting the inside of his cheek as he restrains himself from biting. ]

I want you awake.

[ For... reasons. Okay. ]

( 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?

[ 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. ]

( tch. that's almost.... kind of annoying, that he's perfectly fine after all of that. the difference between them is just that huge, huh? Aoba's aching, sore as anything, and while not exhausted he definitely needs a break. it all feels good, from the burn of his muscles to the way a dull throb pulses through his body, a sweet satisfaction from pushing and reaching a limit. it's—starkly, the feeling of being alive.

it wouldn't be quite right to say that it bothers him that Crowley doesn't feel the same way, but.... it's something along those lines. but what can he do? he's only human. even if there's that niggling little feeling that makes him wish he could. just how like it's annoying that he can't leave a mark, no matter what he's tried.

idly, Aoba's fingers move to brush those errant bangs away, smoothing them back from Crowley's forehead and the side of his face. even if it was cute, how disheveled he was looking. )

Oh yeah, you know. Perfectly fine.

( like Crowley can't tell from stiffness of the way he moves his hand as he brushes, combs through hair, or how his heart's still not quite back to its normal pace. at the mention of his back, Aoba's eyes follow along shape of the vampire's back, examining the spots where he knows he'd scratched. ah... yeah. as expected, it's all gone. like nothing happened.

gosh, there he goes, teasing again. Aoba huffs: )

I wouldn't have sex like that with anyone but you.

( it's—an odd way to phrase that, but it's the first thing that comes out. he wouldn't want to hurt anyone, not even Crowley, but the vampire seems to be able to handle it. other people... he tries to do what feels good for them, what they can handle. would he really get into it like this with someone else...? probably not. that's just how it is.

but, you know. this isn't taking bad routes into account.

.... though he's very distracted when Crowley tells him that. gosh... is this like, great great great granddaddy kink? maybe even more. plus, it also confirms his earlier thoughts about turning, that Crowley was human once. so it was true. Aoba's peeking back down, blinking, a small crease between his brows, )

Wow... so you must've seen a lot of weird stuff, huh?

( he's making light, a little, because otherwise he'd just be overwhelmed. so old... old as dirt. what does someone even do with so much time? at least he's not lonely—he's mentioned other vampires before. )

I'm twenty-three.

( this feels... a lot less impressive to say. as usual, when talking to Crowley. )

[ Crowley briefly closes an eye when his bangs are brushed back, both opened when he's graced with Aoba's sarcasm. ]

It feels better now that I didn't bite, doesn't it?

[ He's been bitten while having sex (by Chess, unsurprisingly) but it was always in small doses. Nothing where he needed to drink from a human afterward, so he's only so familiar with the exhaustion it brings. Aoba might have gotten up and dressed himself the first time but it was... lazy, groggy, it was obvious he left him a little out of it. ]

Oh? [ He leans up, moving closer. ] You're gonna hurt someone's feelings saying stuff like that. This'll be a hard habit to kick if you're not careful~ But I don't mind being the only one that satisfies you like this. [ He grins before flopping back down, head placing itself on the curve of Aoba's shoulder. ]

My family was well off but I wasn't interested in inheriting land, so I became a holy Knight Templar. [ "Holy", the word itself makes him chuckle bitterly. ] Ironic, now that I'm a vampire, isn't it?

[ Honestly if he could retake those first one hundred years he would have spent it sleeping instead of going battlefield to battlefield. That's what you do with that much time. ]

You're younger than I thought. [ Not like he gave it much thought. ] At your age I was on a battlefield.

( really... he would have been fine with being bitten anyway. but Crowley's not wrong, of course he isn't. it's probably strange to want to be bitten anyway—not that the thought keeps him from wanting it regardless. ah well.

having Crowley against the curve of his shoulder is nice, too. reaching up, Aoba curls, turning just slightly to better fit against the other man. even when he's sweaty, Aoba still likes touching him. fingers tracing, along forehead now that the hair's been pushed back, dipping along the shape of temple and hairline, over a pointed ear. pad stopping at the tip, he rubs it a little, curiously, but then moves along to skim downward.

this'll be a hard habit to kick if you're not careful. maybe. it's something he decides to keep quiet on as he curls up against the vampire, warm and comfortable. though he does almost snort about the comment on hurting someone's feelings; it's not like he has that many partners, and he's not dating anyone, either. maybe one day he will but for now, his prospects are... not so great. )

Knight Templar... ( that... sounds like something out of a video game. a protector of the innocent. living by a code. paying to God for his favor. holy. yeah, the irony isn't lost on Aoba. though how true the stories about crosses and holy water burning vampire skin are, he has no clue. ) Wouldn't most humans be young to you? ( twenty-three isn't that young!! but that's a mild huff before a softer murmur: ) What was that like? Being on a battlefield. And... what have you been doing? All these years.

( seriously. he still can't even fathom what he'd do with so much time, if he were the one with it. )

[ It's a little weird but that's why he's interested in Aoba in the first place. He doesn't care that Crowley's a vampire and is giving him permission to bite him? That's a keeper.

On instinct Crowley hums in response to his ear being played with. Horn does a better job, in his opinion, but she's adjusted and experienced how he'll react to certain areas while Aoba is still in the process of learning. ]

I mean physically, obviously. My body hasn't changed since I first drank human blood. [ And that wasn't long after he was turned, either. Without his sire he couldn't rely on his blood, and even then he wouldn't be able to drink from him forever. Bloodlust and desire would have had him tearing into the throat of a human sooner or later, and his opinion he's glad to have gotten it out of the way. ] So I thought you were older than twenty-five.

[ To the next two questions Crowley looks off to the side. It's not like he hasn't told his story before but remembering the worst of it always made him pause; whenever Ferid is bored and wants to be reminded of how he single handedly caused a knight that served under God to fall so far from grace, he spends a lot of his time retelling it. ] We were fighting a lost battle from the very beginning. [ He adjusts himself, moving to his side and using his arm to brace himself against the mattress, using that same hand to place his cheek into the palm of his hand. ] I killed so many in the name of someone who never looked my way, no matter how much I cried, begged, or prayed, He never answered. It was a tiring, bloody war.

[ He shrugged his shoulder. ] I only survived because I caught someone's attention. Still stuck with him, too, so I pretty much spend my time following his orders. But overall things are pretty boring.

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i just put this in a word counter please kick my ass

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

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