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.

( 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.

( if Aoba knew he was being compared so frequently to Crowley's vampire girlfriends and failing so hard, he might be a little offended. since he's blissfully unaware he simply keeps moving his fingers, learning the shape of the man's ear, a little amused that it's pointed. isn't that like, an elf thing? his interest moves along to behind the ear and the soft juncture of skin where jaw and neck meet. but that gives his thumb the chance to stroke along the outer shell of ear, moving down to brush against its lobe. )

Mm.

( a murmur of understanding. well, it's not like he won't be twenty-five soon enough. then thirty. and then even beyond that. and he keeps quiet as Crowley talks, listening to the sound of his voice, its alluring quality, the words themselves. as Crowley shifts Aoba moves a little too, but largely stays in the same position. watching, golden eyes almost unblinking as he studies Crowley's again. until the man looks away, anyhow.

there's a distance between Crowley's experiences and what Aoba can really understand. no, he's never... really been all that religious, honestly, only memories of a Church being some distant thing near the sound of crashing waves, sand, and a warm voice asking if he wanted to come with him. he's never been to war. never killed, even if scrap's a dangerous tool that could break someone's mind and has.

none of it is anything for him to judge. and he doesn't, that much is obvious from how his expression mostly stays soft, with touches of curiosity, no shying away even with a backstory that would raise some red flags if the vampire thing didn't. it—does make his heart hurt, a bit, because it's not a happy story. did he really think it would be...? no. of course not. )

So that's how it is... ( cheek against his palm, Aoba goes quiet again, thinking, wondering. but then there's a huff as he offers Crowley a smile, ) ... Thank you for telling me. ( maybe Crowley doesn't care, maybe he's told a thousand people, but Aoba does. ) For what it's worth, ( which he acknowledges isn't much, ) I'm glad I met you.

( he's not looking for the same answer in response, doesn't even wait for anything near like it as he rolls onto the flat of his back again, stretching out like a cat. if he could purr he probably would. )

You said there was a way to mark you earlier. What did you mean?

( he's completely ignoring the fact that he was told he'd have to beg for that answer. hasn't he begged enough?! )

[ Listen Crowley can only compare him to his vampire girlfriends because that's all he has. Does he want to be compared to Ferid? The guy that ruined his life, killed all his friends, and almost had him kill the last of his comrades? (And recently might even have the body of that comrade? Still!?) Plus he's making it to [redacted] status... anyway. ]

Yep... [ And there's no changing it. History has already written itself and his name nor the name of his comrades are in any books, which only proves that they were no heroes. Forgotten; no one but that vampires who were there and himself know of how his entire squad was killed without any mercy. The memory is there but the faces, their voices, it all feels so far away. He's not even able to properly recall what his best friend sounded like or what he looked like--

Then there's a hand to his cheek, pulling him back into reality and he blinks before the words settle in the back of his brain. Coming forward and making sense in pieces, he's not sure how to react as he's thanked. ] Why are you thanking me? Why...

[ are you glad that we met?

It has to be something shallow. The sex is nice and Aoba already admitted that he doesn't act the same way with his other sexual encounters, it shouldn't have to go any deeper than that.

Too bad Crowley's answer is deep as hell. ]

... You did it already, I think. At least I'm pretty sure you did.

[ His eyes glance down to the other's stomach, dirtied with come and it causes Crowley to sit up and actually look through that nightstand they've been ignoring. There's a few things he recognizes and others he doesn't, but they keep a convenient pack of wipes and he's at least gonna help clean Aoba off. What a good guy. Also don't pry into the fact that he's obviously being vague because he'll give the man the answer he's looking for: ] Physically you can't do anything to me but... I can keep you in my memory. [ That's so damn cheesy. ] That's the best I can do, not being human and all.

( Aoba pushes up on his elbows when Crowley sits up and goes to the nightstand, watching as the man searches the drawer for something. already did...? that's something he wonders at against the rustle of things, gaze slipping down ridges of the vampire's spine, admiring the way his shoulder blades move.

oh. at the wipes he offers a grateful look, sitting up even more so that he can wipe himself down, too. it... actually is a nice thing of Crowley to do, considering Aoba wasn't expecting it and would probably have staggered off to the bathroom to use the sink after cooling off for a few more minutes. feels much better to not be sticky once everything's cooled down, but that's... a thought he's completely distracted from when Crowley keeps talking like that.

huh...? that is—incredibly cheesy. yet... also.... kind of, a little, romantic...? were it anyone else he might make a face and say that it's only normal to remember, but... it's different here. Crowley's been around for much longer than anyone he's ever known, or possibly ever will know. of course he won't remember every person he's met—not even the ones he's slept with. it's why Aoba hadn't been expecting a similar answer in response to his admittance. yet, hearing that, how is he not supposed to feel—warm? damn, Bella Swan, he kind of gets it now. )

Ah.

( a soft exhale as Aoba shifts forward on instinct, acting on feeling rather than any real thought, spanning his arms around ribs and settling his palms on the man's back in a tight embrace. it's a sigh, a pleased murmur: ) ... Crowley. ( honestly... this guy. it's brief, when Aoba leans up to press his lips against the vampire's, similar to the tender touch from earlier. but then he's all too quickly moving to tuck his face against collarbone instead. by now, he's adjusted to the lack of a pulse or heartbeat, having familiarized himself with the absence of them a few times on purpose. )

If you do... well, I guess... that'd probably make me... really happy.

( though Aoba's really not sure what he's done to earn it other than having a weird hair kink... it does make him happy. that's what that new warmth is, burning from head to toe, coloring his cheeks in the most pleasant way possible. maybe it's silly, Aoba just being a big old weirdo again, but there's no denying the surge of pleasure at hearing those words.

this is... nice. hugging tight like this. it makes him not want to let go. enough so that he'd be willing to forgive being unfavorably compared to Crowley's vampire girlfriends!! who are definitely better than being compared to the person who murdered all of Crowley's friends, yeah.

he's just gonna stay here until he's dislodged for being gross and affectionate, thanks. )

[ how the fuck did they get here

He doesn't object to embrace, eyes going half-lidded as Aoba holds him and Crowley hesitates momentarily with what to do with his own arms. After a second he's just putting them around the smaller's waist, hands intertwining behind him near the small of his back.

Returning the kiss with a practiced and comfortable ease, he's not surprised when the man pulls away to hide. It's becoming a reaction that he's used to, funnily enough, but the real surprise comes from him still finding it entertaining rather than boring. It was off from his usual views on humans but then again their entire relationship was off--meeting twice under odd circumstances and now this third time just on pure chance. He's not sure if Aoba just has his own gravitational pull and he's being pulled in but he doesn't... mind that. Not at all, actually.

He tilts his head, resting against Aoba and taking in his scent. There's the vague smell of himself lingering on his skin and it makes his stomach churn unexpectedly, both delighted and slightly aroused over this new discovery. ]

Happier than giving me a physical mark to look back to?

[ It's not really a question, just simple curiosity. It won't linger in his head more than it already has to so if it's left unanswered there will be no skin off his nose.

Now here comes the real question: ] Are you really sure about that? I'm not human.

( this is because Crowley didn't just bite him and put him to sleep

happier than giving me a physical mark to look back to? that makes him quiet for a minute. pressing his mouth against the hollow of Crowley's throat, teeth skimming over skin with the touch of tongue, curling into a lick. if he could he would. how many times has he tried...? scraped his nails down, bitten, watched for a brief second of satisfaction before it was gone?

this would be a good spot to mark. the soft dip of flesh right in the center, a trifecta of collarbone and throat, just over breast. still hiding his face, he licks the spot again, a slow drag of his tongue as he wets, pinches lightly with his teeth. )

It's not like I wouldn't want both. ( an honest admittance. Crowley's only encouraged him to admit and act on his wants, and that's... one of them. ) And—that'd be more for you to look back at, that's what... I wanted.

( to recall who put it there. how it felt when it was put there. but, again, it's a desire that won't come to fruition. the real question has Aoba pausing, graze of teeth against the base of Crowey's throat pulling away as he looks up, resting his chin on the man's chest instead as he looks at his face. )

Sure...? Of course I'm sure. ( like it's the simplest thing in the world, ) Crowley's Crowley. Human or not.

( that sort of thing doesn't matter to him. maybe it should, maybe he's three times an idiot for not having better stranger danger skills or acknowledging red flags, but... it's an honest answer. but he can also date an android or a dog, so. )

[ What Aoba is doing to his neck, his skin, is causing it to light up on fire and followed by a ticklish feeling that's difficult to ignore. In fact he's unable to restrain himself, sighing softly as a low chuckle slips from his throat. A hand goes up, fingertips dragging across the younger's spine before the pads come in contact with soft strands of hair. ]

Heh, if I was human you'd have me covered in them at this point.

[ But Crowley somewhat doesn't understand why'd he need to recall who marked him when they just keep meeting up like this. There's a brief amount of time where they're not together but, instead of a mark, he can remember vividly (and even point out) where the human tried to bite him, sucked at his skin, or even dragged his nails down his back. Almost to the point where it felt like Aoba was there, tempting him while he's in the middle of doing Very Important Vampire Things like... paperwork.

So, in a sense, the human has already been kept in his thoughts--his memory. It's only now that he realizes it, however, in the middle of holding Aoba in his arms and slowly threading fingers through the other man's hair. Since Aoba has never reacted negatively to him touching it, Crowley has to wonder what kind of expression he'd receive if he were to pull it. Would it hurt? Would he cry? Just how did it get like this in the first place?

Questions he'll save for later--questions that he'll definitely remember for later. ]

That's a really simple way of thinking. If you were born in my time you would have died young.

[ So romantic. Aoba really knows how to pick 'em. ]

Mm~ Anyway, remember what I said about you telling me the things you want? I wanna hear them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

( that's only fair! )

[ Crowley possibly wouldn't be so intrigued if it wasn't for the fact that Aoba's hair was undoubtedly different, but then again if he didn't learn the first time he would have learned soon enough. In the heat of the moment, no less, so without that bit of information there's no doubt that their first encounter would have been their worst.

Before he moves or says anything, the vampire dips his head to the side before blinking twice: ] You look... like you're a cat or something when you do that. [ It's strangely attractive? Cute... yeah, that's the word he's looking for.

But if he just wants to lie on top of him then that sounds easy enough? ] Like this?

[ Crowley easily changes their position by flopping down onto his back, pulling Aoba on top of him. Hands gently holding him by the hips. ]

And if that's how you wanna play it then that's fine. [ There's nothing to be embarrassed about, plus Crowley has pretty much made a name for himself for being terribly honest in the best and worst way possible. Speaking about what he wants after eight hundred years of hardly wanting anything at all is going to be one hell of a list though. ]

So that means it's my turn, right? Ah... I don't know, wanna have you sleep next to me?

( but he's more of a dog person...... )

Mm. Like this.

( this... is better. it lets him really stretch out—though he does grope beside them, curling his fingers and tugging half the blanket over them so that they're covered without having to get up to get under the blankets. seriously... he could easily fall asleep like this. if Crowley tries to move those hands from his hips, Aoba's gonna complain.

which apparently is fine? I don't know, wanna have you sleep next to me? Aoba peeks up again, returning to resting his chin on Crowley's chest. )

Really? ( it's such an innocent request but it surprises him anyway. maybe that's why it surprises him...? ) I probably will.

( not right this second, though. do vampires sleep? it's not a question he asks but it's so obvious in his eyes that he's wondering it, almost reflecting as brightly as the light from the lamps.

until he glances away. it's difficult to keep eyecontact with admitting the next thing he wants, )

My turn... I wanted to fuck you, before. ( just so there's no confusion as to how he means, he lingers on that you a half a second longer than all the other words, ) The sounds you were making when I was sucking you off... were nice. I wanted more of them.

( and he was pretty close to acting on it, too! he huffs a little, drawing circles on Crowley's skin with the pad of his index finger. )

I still want to.

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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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