[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 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.]