prismatica | text | un: fantasma

[welcome to the goth cave, you're now in the BONEZONE MY DUDE. Abbacchio definitely looks delighted at the fingers roaming along his tail; it genuinely feels really damned nice.

Look he doesn't know what Avdol's thoughts are on the bang, but he's glad he doesn't need to encourage much more. He gives a pleased growl at the rough bite on his lip, and he's pressing in to wind his arms around Avdol's neck.]

You wanna fill my void?

[SOMEBODY STOP HIM]

Let me have some of what you brought over and you can fill me however you want.

[Oh boy, good. Everything seems to be going down well, which is always a relief when you're a huge fucking prude and unsure of your dick game; in fact, Abbacchio's clear approval of his touch, of that ballsy little bite gambit, only makes Avdol puff up a little with pride. And shit, it's also nice having arms around his neck, even if they're completely on par with each other and there's no real hanging-off to be done. He's about to go back in for another kiss when

god]

...Leone...

[That absolutely disgusted expression continues for another moment, before it quivers, shakes, and gives way into absolutely uproarious laughter. That was so fucking bad. That was the absolute worst shit he's ever heard, and he loves it. Even as he's cackling away, Avdol bends slightly at the knee and huff, has a damn good crack at lifting Abbacchio off the ground.

Time to half-frogmarch over to that poor bag of homemade doughnuts, which-- where the fuck did he put them again? Where are they. Right, table, right, good. Just plonk the precious cargo on the table, grab that bag, and-- okay yeah, shitty puns are apparently full licence to be a complete goofball now, who knew. Avdol now has one (1) zalabya between his teeth, eyebrows waggling as he pushes in closer yet again. You wanna go to clown school, motherfucker? Here we fucking are!!]

[There is absolutely not even a shred of regret on Abbacchio's face. It's the pun place, the bone zone, and here they are, and it's only reassured by Avdol's charming laugh. Abbacchio grins sharply, trying to cover his mouth before he's laughing quietly -- but he doesn't really make it in time because Avdol is a fucking goof?? What the hell.

He reaches out, grabbing Avdol by the chin before leaning in to close the distance, tearing off half the zalabya from Avdol's mouth in order to have it for himself.

And he looks pleasantly delighted.]

Damn. That's nice.

[He presses another eager kiss to the side of Avdol's mouth.]

Should make you something sometime. Something besides tea.

[Good. This mightn't be Ideal Hookup Conditions or anything, but there's nothing to regret here, not even shitty puns. Especially not shitty puns, not when they can both ease up a bit and just have a damn good time; Avdol's still beaming when he chews down his piece of tasty, tasty doughnut, and it ain't because of his home cooking.]

What, did you think I would feed you garbage? You wound me. [Still swept up in the Mood, he presses into that little kiss and smiles with his entire face, eyes crinkling at the corners and all. No need to stress out, after all; this is nice just the way it's going, and if he thinks too hard, he'll slip back down into anxiety.] ...I won't complain if you want to return the favour, though; if your tea's that good, then your food must be fantastic.

[It's instinct to ask if Abbacchio wants more food, and the words are on the back of his tongue when Avdol catches them. Priorities and all that; while feeding him's pretty high on the list, it's still underneath the top entry of constant, affectionate physical contact. He's not sure if that's enough for the moment or not, but hey; little steps and all that. A kiss to the bridge of the nose, both temples (hair brushed carefully aside first), and then he touches their noses together with a soft, amused huff.] ...Help me untie my hair? If you get to have all this fur, then I'm going to let my hair down and try feebly to look just as attractive!

I do all right. But I'd make you a tiramisu if you like cakes so much.

[The kisses on his face just makes him melt, pleased little sounds trickling out as he leans against Avdol. It's so sweet, and another more sober time he'd think to himself how little he deserves that kind of treatment, but right now he just indulges with no questioning.

He grins, reaching around the back of Avdol's neck.]

You hardly gotta try at all. But sure, I'll help you out.

[The claws help with the fiddly work, drawing the line loose before he's tugging it off, encouraging Avdol's hair to be free instead of the neat tail it was in. He rakes his fingers through it, encouraging it to run loose.]

That's a good look for you.

Promises of actual, authentic tiramisu and flattery? I came here to help, and you're spoiling me instead. [Mouth lopsidedly curving upwards even more, he gets to work undoing each and every knot; it's a simple matter of simply removing the hair ties, but once all that hair's free from its restraints, christ. Christ. That is a lot of wavy, curly hair screaming for freedom. And a lot of hair ties, all of which he unceremoniously dumps on the table somewhere beside the bag of doughnuts. This Is Fine.

One last step before his head knows true freedom, and that is of course removing the headband. Part of him feels just a tad awkward about the scar underneath, how ugly and fresh it is in comparison to his other ones, but-- that's the path of thinking too hard, and he's sworn off that for the moment.]

It's not exactly the most responsible, mature look, is it? Still...I'm glad you approve. From you, that means a lot. [And he means that, too. Abbacchio's basically a fucking supermodel, long and lithe and moonlight-beautiful, so...He knows his shit about this sort of thing, of course.] Maybe I'll start wearing my hair out just a little more often, but...I'll think about that later. Right now, I'm not holding up my end of the deal here.

[Less talking about him now, more slow kissing and hands on hips, tugging them closer together still. (Okay, only a little hands on hips; soon as he's accomplished that much, Avdol's turning his attention to getting Abbacchio's bigass goth titties out. He's a man on a motherfucking mission here.)]

That's because I like you. If you were fucking annoying, I'd be trashtalking. [With his claws, he does help with the rest of the ties. Honestly, he likes the way that Avdol has so much hair. He looks good with his usual style, but he likes this too.

The scar gets a curious glance, but he figures it's better to not draw any attention to it. Besides, he has his own.]

I'm not the most responsible guy. So don't worry about it.

[There's no fight about it. Instead, he leans into each little kiss that Avdol is going to give him. It's sweet, actually, how he gives his affection.

Reaching up, he tugs the strings free from keeping his coat closed, shrugging it off. It shows his own scar just below his chest, off center to the right. Just fist-sized scar, both front and back. But he doesn't care, because he's pressing Avdol back until he's sitting on the couch so he can make himself comfortable on his lap. TIDDIES OUT]

[AW YES GOTH TITTIES JUST RIGHT ON OUT THERE, FUCKIN' MINT. Before he can actually play them like a drum, however, Avdol's instead getting nudged backwards and hey, that's not a bad idea at all so he rolls with that instead. Maybe the way he half-stumbles back onto the couch isn't the most attractive, but fuck it; he's got other things to focus on that are more important than his public image.

Like sliding one hand up Abbacchio's thigh, careful careful, thumb tracing along the inner seam. Like cinching the other hand around to firmly rub at the base of his tail, fingers combing through that sleek fur with utmost affection. It's gross, really.]

I like you too, Leone. [...N O R O M O, O K A Y. But really, he's very much fond of him. What's not to like? There's something innately charming about Abbacchio, something terribly real and refreshing that Avdol can't help but enjoy being around. Is all that friendly affection culminating in a slightly clumsy attempt at a handjob? You bet it is. It's really, really fucking difficult to maintain eye contact while you're trying to palm your buddy's dick through his really nice, probably designer pants, but that is exactly what Avdol's doing.

Do not bring up his slowly increasing body temperature or he will actually implode. He's doing his best to fight the encroaching embarrassment off, worrying at his bottom lip as he watches for a reaction, before finally mumbling--]

...It's been a while since I was with a man, though. You'll have to forgive the rust.

[There's the briefest pang of guilt, because he feels like Avdol really fucking shouldn't like him at all, but then it's not as if he knows any better. But he feels too selfish to throw that away just yet, so he skips that particular part about himself right over. Gonna just stash that away right fucking now for later!!

He hums, squirming a little at the hands touching him. Both are nice, and he isn't shy about showing his approval.

It does occur to him that Avdol is getting warm. Like, really damned warm? But he isn't complaining and if anything it makes him shift closer to drape his arms around Avdol's shoulders.]

Hey, it's all right.

[Slowly, his clawed fingers rake through Avdol's hair, loving the sensation of it.]

I like it a lot so far. [He gives an encouraging little rock of his hips, pressing his cock into Avdol's hand.] If you want me to lead for awhile, that's fine.

[Thankfully, all that portable heater bullshit does not result in Avdol becoming a sweaty mess. Holy shit, a Jojo isn't sweating. Fucking miracles, really. Even more miracles; he eases up on the obvious fretting because hey, good reaction. Good reaction, reassuring, no laughter, claws in his hair sending goosebumps down his spine; how could he not turn into a contented, molten lump?]

What? No, no; I'm here to help you, not make you do all the work. I just-- It felt fair to give you due warning, that's all. And if you're enjoying yourself so far...Then I'm doing alright. [Snorting softly, he tips his chin upwards to try and snag yet another kiss; as far as he's concerned, there's still way too much lipstick on Abbacchio's mouth, and not enough on his.

After a few more pointed tail rubs, Avdol reluctantly pulls his hand away for something slightly more important right now; further clothing removal. What, like he's going to let those fancy slacks get messed up on his watch? Fuck no. It takes a little finangling, especially at their current angles, but he steadily works away until everything's low enough for Abbacchio's cock to be duly freed. (Besides, if Avdol focuses on everything but himself, maybe they can both ignore his own half-mast boner because whew, it's so not about his dick right now.)

And then, finally, those thick, callused fingers wrap around the shaft and start stroking. If it wasn't for the faint smirk on Avdol's idiot face, one might think that the slow pace was purely because he seems inclined to generally take things slow. But nope. It's almost painfully slow, blatant teasing just to see whether he can keep Abbacchio's goodwill right now. At least he makes sure to roll the pad of his thumb over the tip for a lot longer than a normal handjob would entail, as compensation. Definitely butts his head against those claws in clear appreciation too, just to sweeten the pot.

But hey. Now that he's done embarrassing himself, clearly it's time to get back to being an asshole and having a good time with his buddy here. His very beautiful pal who has definitely given him a boner and made it hard to keep his breathing under control. Yep.]

[The kiss is gladly given, Abbacchio humming quietly into it, practically melting against Avdol. With Polnareff, it'd been fast and messy, which is all fun and everything, but this is pleasantly slow and sweet. It's been ages since the last time he'd been treated like this honestly.]

Ah, fuck. [He breathes out the words against Avdol's mouth before kissing him again, nipping his lower lip.] You're a big tease, huh.

[Slowly, he drags his claws through Avdol's hair again, enjoying the sensation almost as much as Avdol himself seems to like it. Impatiently, he jerks his hips, trying to grind his dick against Avdol's hand.]

Come on. [Turning his head, he bites at the top of Avdol's ear.] Lemme see what you're packing.

[Ah, this is the best part about taking things slow and being a useless smush in the sack; feeling Abbacchio just melt like that, responding so positively to it all, is a reward in its own right. His smile grows wider now, eyes crinkling at the corners as he slowly pulls his head back, lip tug-tug-tugged until it pops free.]

This is about helping you, Leone. But if you want me to undress, I guess I can oblige for your sake. [So Avdol stops teasing. And by stops teasing, I mean he just straight up pulls his hands free; needs those bad boys to roll down his leggings, after all. Pretty sure no man alive has ever looked so damn pleased with himself and life in general while he's wiggling out of some black leggings like Avdol does right now, though. Hard not to be happy with life right now; he's alive, he's currently fucking someone he likes a fair bit for the sake of saving the world, and every inch of scalp that Abbacchio's claws cover has him sighing and huffing in languid satisfaction.

At last, he stops squirming and tugs Abbacchio's hips back down again; the why's not exactly hard to miss when it tucks neatly against his ass, hot and thick and definitely hard by now. There's not even a trace of embarrassment on Avdol's face, either; this is just how things turned out, and that's fine by him.]

...You're not taking it dry, though. And-- you don't self-lubricate like I do during Iris, I take it? [I mean, who said anything about taking anything, jesus.]

[He admonishes himself for it, but he does really think that Avdol has a ridiculously warm smile. But then, he kind of always does, even when he's being a teasing prick, but that's also just him. He's just-- really nice, and impossible to really get angry at, at least in Abbacchio's case. And he likes that. Feeling calm around someone is so fucking rare for him. It's different than when he's in Reimi's company, or when he could give himself to following Bruno's lead, but nonetheless it's still there.]

Yeah, and maybe having your dick out will help me.

[And he likes the look of it, he really does. Abbacchio downright purrs, he finds himself pulled back down and-- yeah. Yeah, he wants that. He rolls his hips back, slowly letting it rub against the cleft of his ass.]

Holy shit, you self-lubricate on Iris. [He's going to TRY to remember that.] S'fine, I have lube. Let me, uh. [And he's definitely going to cheat, summoning Moody Blues to just get that out of the bedroom!] Getting it.

Mm? That's why I try to stay indoors when it's Iris; imagine going about your day except suddenly the elderly greengrocer you're buying vegetables from looks like the perfect person to lay you seven ways to Sunday, and you end up getting very uncomfortably wet for the next few hours. I have no envy for women if this is at all how it works.

[That's the worst joke ever, and he knows it, lets out a breathless chuckle that hitches as he moves for more of that friction. Fuck, this is nice. He wouldn't quite be satisfied if things stopped here, but damn if he also wouldn't complain.] I'm a little jealous of you, though. Cordis seems like it's far more enjoyable from where I'm sitting. Or is that just because you wear it so well? I wonder.

[Quickly, before Moody Blues finishes the fabled lube hunt, Avdol gets to squirming out of his overcoat (which proceeds to bunch uncomfortably between his shoulder blades), then starts pulling his shirt up. Maybe it's not quite painfully hot yet, but it's getting there for him, and besides; there's some small, greedy part of him that wants to see if Abbacchio actually wasn't fibbing about liking a bit of body hair. This is what you get, pal; this is the full deal, tightly-curled hair thatched over his big ol' titties and trailing down his stomach, baby muscle dadbod.

Either way, the shirt ends up getting unceremoniously thrown off to the side and he returns his full attentions to the gorgeous, fae-looking motherfucker currently half-hotdogging his cock. God, maybe it's the angle or-- don't Cordis have pheromones, is it pheromones? He can't smell anything different but there's something sending his pulse rocketing just for looking at Abbacchio and it shows on his face. Bro, what the hell bro, why are you so beautiful and fucking some rough Egyptian dude, c'mon.]

[It's a shitty joke but he's laughing quietly anyway. God, it sounds like a mixed bag, but ultimately he really can't bitch about Cordis in comparison. At least his State of Horny is something he feels like he has moderate control over.]

It's the tail, I bet. You seem to like it so much.

[Honestly, he has no problem with the curls of hair on Avdol. He gives it a curious look, then slowly drags his claws over Avdol's chest, brushing through the hair. Not everyone can have the hairless life, but he does like the look of it on Avdol. Absently, he traces a senseless pattern on Avdol's chest as Moody Blues returns.]

You're so fucking hot. [And he says it fondly, genuinely appreciating the other man's body.] You wanna work me open, Mohammed? Make me feel good?

[SERIOUSLY THOUGH, Avdol 100% snorts at the 'you're so fucking hot' line. Bet your ass he is, bucko. He's Lavaman up in this bitch-- oh hey Moody Blues, thank you for being a lube-fetching angel with a godly ass, amen. One hand: outstretched to receive Key Item: 1 Bottle of Lubricant! Even as he methodically lubes up his fingers, he's puffing, halfway built up to a chuckle. Maybe that's just some steam engine mimicry. Maybe he's just enjoying all this gentle clawing. Maybe it's all of the above!]

Please, you say that like I don't like all of you quite a lot. ...The tail does help your case, though. So do the claws. [Key Item: 1 Bottle of Lubricant gets discarded to the side in favour of the obvious; slick digits wrap around Abbacchio's cock once more for one or two lazy pumps, before sliding down over his balls. Something in his eyes sharpens, almost hyperfocusing as he gently rolls each sac between his fingers.]

Honestly, though? That's all I want right now; to make you feel good. [Well, mostly. 95% of what he wants right now is for Abbacchio to just feel great and have a great time, and that's enough margin for him to round up. Sure, the other 10% is absolutely a feral compulsion to be selfish, but that ain't why he's here at all, no sir. More hyperfocus as he faintly smirks, hungry for approval, and his fingers slip even further down between those pale thighs. Slowly slowly carefully carefully, and then-- his free hand, duly settled somewhere in the hip area, suddenly snaps Abbacchio's hips forward. Can't go cramping now, after all; this angle saves on stretching his arm, his wrist (just a little), makes it so that his fingers are now pretty firmly where his cock was previously resting.

A tragedy, but one that'll be fixed soon enough. Without further ado, he finally gets down to fingering business, smirk growing more pronounced and breath coming just a little harder through his nose.] I'm clearly not making you feel good enough yet, though. Not if you can afford to mouth off at me, hm? [And that's one finger inside without any real warning, curling sharply to try and wring out something.]

Hha, fuck-- [Not that he wasn't expecting the hand on his dick, but Avdol is literally so damned warm that it's pleasantly jarring. His hips jerk into the slow strokes, chasing after how slick and warm it is until it's suddenly gone, reaching gently and teasing his balls.]

You're off to a good start-- ah. You don't have to be so gentle, I'm not delicate. [And honestly there's a part of him that doesn't even know what to do with how nice he's being treated. Fucking is just usually hard and fast, either he's the one doing it because it's expected of him or he just takes it and it's a great distraction.

He almost kind of misses how nearly Avdol's cock almost settled against the cleft of his ass, but shit he won't complain when he's yanked closer and-- fuck that's better, that's so much better, he moans and presses down against the finger pushing in.] Like that.

[Abbacchio leans in, mouthing messily against Avdol's throat, biting lightly. His hands go back up to his hair, claws raking through and lightly scratching.]

I know you're not. [His mouth's open to say more dumb shit, but Abbacchio puts the kibosh on that quick smart with his claws and teeth; there's a moment of unfocused, slack acquiescence, hand twitching, before Avdol's back in proper control of his skin-coated mecha. God, that moan goes straight to his dick too; what's not to love about hearing what a good job you're doing? As much as he wants to examine the deeper implications of all this, be disappointed at how apparently uncomfortable Abbacchio is with something a little slower, Avdol just can't manage that sort of depressing multitasking right now.

Maybe later, when he's not rumbling his approval somewhere deep in his throat. When he's not absolutely fucking melting into the couch, goosebumps prickling all over his torso. Probably when he's not struggling to not buck his hips in sympathy as he starts fingerfucking Abbacchio in earnest, god how he wants his dick inside him instead. Soon, soon, one finger for a few more seconds and then two, a little clumsy with enthusiasm as they stretch and curl and thrust, and finally Avdol finishes his train of thought.] Maybe some of us just like taki-- oh, shit your teeth feel good--

[Deep breath, eyes open, don't think about the lipstick smears or you'll lose it far too early.] Maybe, Leone, I wanted to be gentle because I like you? Just like why, mm. Why I came over in the first place? [And he has the fucking gall to keep smirking as he says that, even if it's slightly less cocky and more playful this time around.]

[It's easier when it's fast and hard, but that's not how Avdol operates. He doesn't want to think, he doesn't want to dwell on anything, but he has almost no idea what to do with something affectionate.

Don't think too hard about this, don't read into, don't--

Thankfully he can focus for a minute on the stretch of two fingers now, and he groans hungrily, squirming in Avdol's lap, squeezing around his fingers and encouraging as much as Avdol will give him.]

Told you-- you're too nice. [He drags his mouth down to Avdol's shoulder, biting and sucking as his skin, leaving streaks of black.]

[Clearly compromise is what they both need for the moment, and Avdol's doing his best to get there. A little aggressive prep in exchange for his inability to actually fuck anyone rough, a little scratching the itch Abbacchio has for this sort of thing and a little soft banter. Everyone wins, right? He's definitely fucking winning right now, toes curling against the floor and fingers unrelentingly working-- unrelentingly--]

...Cramp. [And it hurts too, hand spasming even as he slowly pulls his fingers out and tries to shake the pain away. At least he's able to chuckle over it because yeah, of course something like this would happen to him, right?] Anyway, if...Leone, if we go further, I'm sorry. I'm going to 'be nice' about it. I'm going to want to look you in the eye the whole time.

[Case in point; his clean, non-cramped hand slipslides its way up Abbacchio's side, gentle over his clavicles and throat until it cups his jaw. There's no savage tugging or pulling, but there's enough pressure applied that the cue's hopefully obvious. And even if it is, well.] If we do this, I want to see your face as it happens. Is that alright?

[Finally, the cramp's eased up enough that the hand in question can slowly, pointedly nudge Abbacchio's hips back down, right up until his cock's nestled neatly against it once more. No further until he gets his due answer, though.]

[The mention of the cramp makes him laugh breathlessly, and he probably shouldn't but he appreciates that Avdol put in so much effort to the point of an aching hand.

But here he is also, making this sweet and he doesn't know what to do with it. Not to say that all of his other partners weren't capable of being fair gentlemen, but there's an undeniable utter warmth to Avdol, his Stand aside. He can't look away, even though he instinctively wants to, because he doesn't know how to deal. His throat is dry, but he nods.]

Yeah. I don't think you could be anything else. [Wait, hang on--] I don't want you to be anything but you, so it's fine.

[Right, okay, that's definitely his dick against his ass again. It's still hot, and he definitely wants that. Abbacchio slides his arms a little tighter around Avdol's shoulders.]

Like this. All right?

[And some consideration with the hand on his jaw, he leans in, pressing his lips to Avdol's. No biting, nothing filthy -- it's softer, less demanding.]

Edited 2019-10-18 05:11 (UTC)

[Sorry buddy, he tried to keep it even keel but nope. Nope, this is just how it's going to be; wait until Iris and then it might get rough, but until then this is all Avdol has. His smirk's been completely transformed into a warm, mushy little smile as he looks up at Abbacchio, blatantly searching his face for something (that he finds after a few seconds, going by the way his mouth quirks up a little more at the corners).]

...Thank you. You're...Way too good to me. [Yet again, his mouth juuuust starts forming a syllable that doesn't quite make it out before it's otherwise occupied with far more important business. What the fuck, man. Here Avdol is, preparing to stick it in and all, and then he's just melting again because hhhhhhhhhhh this kiss is so fucking sweet, Abbacchio is so sweet even if he doesn't realise it himself. There's a beat wherein Avdol just sits there half on autopilot below the neck, struggling to keep his eyes open because he'd rather just focus on the simple pleasure of kissing, but. But.

Compromise. Abbacchio's reaching out to him, meeting what he likes, so it's his turn to repay it as best he can. A little more manoeuvring so that his cock pointedly rubs against Abbacchio's ass, a little warning, and then he starts guiding it in with both hands. Sure, it's still slow, but there's no pausing, no shallow test thrusts like he might normally go for; if Abbacchio doesn't want him to keep going until he bottoms out, then he'll let him know. (And really, he's not sure he could stop himself long enough to be as considerate as he'd like.)]

[It's the other way around, he wants to say. Avdol is the one way too fucking good to him, funny and kind and warm. What the hell did he do to even get him to agree to this?

But no words, just kissing and the increasing pressure of Avdol spreading him open, his dick just sliding in further and further without pause and it feels so fucking good. Eventually, he has to break the kiss to groan against Avdol's lips, sucking in air. He could stop him, he thinks; Avdol would slow down if he told him to, but he doesn't want that.]

Hha, shit. [He presses his forehead to Avdol's when he finally takes him to the hilt.] Fuck, yeah-- good. You feel good.

[The magic of asking for fuckbuddies on the network, apparently; sometimes it works out just right, and you end up having kind of mushy sex with that one guy you know who smells too much like incense without realising it.

But shit, hopefully it's as worth it for Abbacchio as it is for said incense man. Even without the whole 'not having been inside anyone for probably actual years' bit, it's just...Of course he's enjoying everything twice as much for who he's fucking, as well as the how of it. More and more reminders of what's so fucking good about being alive together, intense body heat and lubricant wet against his abdomen, panting against each other's mouths, who would want to die after this?

Without thinking, Avdol digs his fingers in just a little tighter, just holds their hips flush together for a few seconds to let everything really sink in.] 's my line, Leone...You, mm. Feel great. [And he's trying so fucking hard to not just kiss Abbacchio all over, wherever he can reach, because it's really nice just as they are. Besides, now he can get a great view of what'll happen when he finally draws his hips back down, and who would give that up?]

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1/2 god look at abbacchio go

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