[There's a weird, nameless sensation running thru Aki's body as Denji maneuvers his leg in close, begins rutting against it. He knows he likes it, knows this whole thing is turning him on. He knows those little sounds coming from him are making the fire in him burn hotter. When Denji breaks away from him to call him mean Aki doesn't even let up, pressing his thigh harshly into his crotch and gliding it down his erection while he leans in to kiss at his cheek, his jaw, his neck. All the spots he failed to explore yet, now wet with humidity and rain and sweat, his hair stuck to his skin. Hands wandering as he tries to identify what the hell this feeling is. Why, despite feeling so turned on, he can't fully accept it. Why he keeps pushing Denji harder, grabbing his elbows and holding them into the door like he might try and slip away as he open-mouth bites at his throat.]
[It's like Denji is going to slip away at any moment. Fade into smoke, slip away like mist. Disperse into the air around him and be no more tangible than his own breath. Like Denji will tire of him and push him away. Like Denji will simply slide free from his grasp and head right out the door.]
[He's not yours, he told the devil. He's not anyone's. But right now, Aki chooses to ignore the meaning behind what he said that morning. If this is what it means to be more devil than human, if the scale is tipped this badly just by whatever it was he breathed in - that's right, it's all the neurotoxin, the smoke, the powder, the devil's doing, he can blame it all on the devil, another devil, one that's now killed and conquered - then he can let himself accept it for the moment. Aki pulls his leg back to allow Denji some room to breathe before the hands on his arms go for the close of his pants. Desperate and seeking to conquer more.]
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[There's a weird, nameless sensation running thru Aki's body as Denji maneuvers his leg in close, begins rutting against it. He knows he likes it, knows this whole thing is turning him on. He knows those little sounds coming from him are making the fire in him burn hotter. When Denji breaks away from him to call him mean Aki doesn't even let up, pressing his thigh harshly into his crotch and gliding it down his erection while he leans in to kiss at his cheek, his jaw, his neck. All the spots he failed to explore yet, now wet with humidity and rain and sweat, his hair stuck to his skin. Hands wandering as he tries to identify what the hell this feeling is. Why, despite feeling so turned on, he can't fully accept it. Why he keeps pushing Denji harder, grabbing his elbows and holding them into the door like he might try and slip away as he open-mouth bites at his throat.]
[It's like Denji is going to slip away at any moment. Fade into smoke, slip away like mist. Disperse into the air around him and be no more tangible than his own breath. Like Denji will tire of him and push him away. Like Denji will simply slide free from his grasp and head right out the door.]
[He's not yours, he told the devil. He's not anyone's. But right now, Aki chooses to ignore the meaning behind what he said that morning. If this is what it means to be more devil than human, if the scale is tipped this badly just by whatever it was he breathed in - that's right, it's all the neurotoxin, the smoke, the powder, the devil's doing, he can blame it all on the devil, another devil, one that's now killed and conquered - then he can let himself accept it for the moment. Aki pulls his leg back to allow Denji some room to breathe before the hands on his arms go for the close of his pants. Desperate and seeking to conquer more.]