Vox kissed him back, light and quick with a bit of excitement in his eyes. He wouldn’t tell himself that this had been seventy years in the making, but it was, a slowly cultivated thing born of blood and pain and a balance of calculated and feral bites. They were so good at hurting each other that it might have been an art.]
Heh, if you keep asking that, I’m going to think you really are going to try to kill me.
[He was still smiling, though with less teeth now, less confidence. This was a business deal that he wasn’t entirely sure that would go through; this was a pilot show air with a risky premise. This wasn’t going to be like it was with Val or the many men and woman between that bar and now; this was its own dangerous thing, fire and gasoline ripe for pyrotechnics.
His hand found the front of Alastor’s chest, the claw-tip of his thumb tracing the buttons of his clothes. There was nothing to interrupt them, nothing to save them or damn them, depending on the way this shook out. Any safety net was gone.
There was just this. There was just them.]
I’m all yours tonight.
[That final word, as tomorrow and the future may be wildly different. And because he couldn't not say something stupid, he added:]
Just like you're all mine.
[Ha. Prisoner. Ha. Did it even count considering he wasn't tied down and being let to go around where he wanted? Meh.]
[ Alastor would try to kill him if that were an option. It would be more comfortable than this, familiar territory where they were safe. It would be a bloody affair, one that left both of them nursing injuries that could take days to heal, and an afterglow that others might mistake for anything else. But this was what they had, and it was what they wanted.
That last line would have been romantic if it weren't so literal. He placed his hand over the one on his chest, and his fingers curled lightly. He looked down, then up again, and he couldn't help but wonder once more if they would regret this. It was just sex, but sex always changed everything, and maybe by tomorrow they would be tired of one another. ]
For now.
[ Alastor said that, and it allowed him to accept it for the moment. He toyed with the lapels of Vox's jacket, adjusting and fixing it only to begin to slide it off his shoulders. It was already becoming a practiced motion. He leaned in to kiss Vox again as he did so, because the man would only say something to ruin the mood if Alastor let him say anything more. ]
[Vox was glad he didn’t take off his own coat. There was something about the way Alastor did it that made him…
Fuck, it was sexy and he didn’t know why.
Shoulders shrugged to help him with the removal, arms moving a little until they were free of it. This late in the evening, he didn’t care so much if it was tossed aside, ready for it to be dry cleaned anyway. There was a closet full of different variations, and he was fairly certain they wouldn’t be torn like someone who won’t be named occasionally did.
Please keep his mouth busy. It was better for all parties involved.
Vox’s hand moved down, down to the demon’s waist while his tongue slid forward to find Alastor’s to with. Was the instinct (and act) to try to take control of the kiss? Yes, of course it was. He was in control, he was always in control in the bedroom, in life and death, and being around Alastor wouldn’t be any different.
(Except for the part where he often lost his control, composure, and logical thinking brain around the deer. But that didn’t mean anything.)
Fingers started to pulling up Alastor’s shirt just enough that he could slide his claws against the small of his back. Already, more progress than before. Let the countdown begin.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Vox kissed him back, light and quick with a bit of excitement in his eyes. He wouldn’t tell himself that this had been seventy years in the making, but it was, a slowly cultivated thing born of blood and pain and a balance of calculated and feral bites. They were so good at hurting each other that it might have been an art.]
Heh, if you keep asking that, I’m going to think you really are going to try to kill me.
[He was still smiling, though with less teeth now, less confidence. This was a business deal that he wasn’t entirely sure that would go through; this was a pilot show air with a risky premise. This wasn’t going to be like it was with Val or the many men and woman between that bar and now; this was its own dangerous thing, fire and gasoline ripe for pyrotechnics.
His hand found the front of Alastor’s chest, the claw-tip of his thumb tracing the buttons of his clothes. There was nothing to interrupt them, nothing to save them or damn them, depending on the way this shook out. Any safety net was gone.
There was just this. There was just them.]
I’m all yours tonight.
[That final word, as tomorrow and the future may be wildly different. And because he couldn't not say something stupid, he added:]
Just like you're all mine.
[Ha. Prisoner. Ha. Did it even count considering he wasn't tied down and being let to go around where he wanted? Meh.]
no subject
That last line would have been romantic if it weren't so literal. He placed his hand over the one on his chest, and his fingers curled lightly. He looked down, then up again, and he couldn't help but wonder once more if they would regret this. It was just sex, but sex always changed everything, and maybe by tomorrow they would be tired of one another. ]
For now.
[ Alastor said that, and it allowed him to accept it for the moment. He toyed with the lapels of Vox's jacket, adjusting and fixing it only to begin to slide it off his shoulders. It was already becoming a practiced motion. He leaned in to kiss Vox again as he did so, because the man would only say something to ruin the mood if Alastor let him say anything more. ]
no subject
[Vox was glad he didn’t take off his own coat. There was something about the way Alastor did it that made him…
Fuck, it was sexy and he didn’t know why.
Shoulders shrugged to help him with the removal, arms moving a little until they were free of it. This late in the evening, he didn’t care so much if it was tossed aside, ready for it to be dry cleaned anyway. There was a closet full of different variations, and he was fairly certain they wouldn’t be torn like someone who won’t be named occasionally did.
Please keep his mouth busy. It was better for all parties involved.
Vox’s hand moved down, down to the demon’s waist while his tongue slid forward to find Alastor’s to with. Was the instinct (and act) to try to take control of the kiss? Yes, of course it was. He was in control, he was always in control in the bedroom, in life and death, and being around Alastor wouldn’t be any different.
(Except for the part where he often lost his control, composure, and logical thinking brain around the deer. But that didn’t mean anything.)
Fingers started to pulling up Alastor’s shirt just enough that he could slide his claws against the small of his back. Already, more progress than before. Let the countdown begin.]