[He used to find this sort of thing disgusting. He never got used to watching Denji drench himself in blood, in the meat and muscle of devils to replenish the motor running inside him. He remembers, once, one of the many times he sat filling out a report while standing over the mutilated corpse of a devil, telling Angel he was disgusting for how he nibbled at the edges of an appendage like biting chicken off a bone. Angel, in his non-plussed way, simply said, At least this way they serve a purpose. And what was that, filling the stomach of a glutton? Or something similar, had been Aki's response. But Angel had looked at him oddly, the perk of his brow expressing disappointment that Aki didn't understand. They can be appreciated, this way, he'd explained.]
[He didn't understand it at all, back then, but the moment Denji's teeth close around him and pierce skin, he understands it completely. It's not like Aki ever sought approval or appreciation from anyone but the very people who he felt would get him where he wanted to go. He didn't beg Himeno to complement him or work hard for the sake of Kishibe telling him he did a good job. Even now, he only works because he has to, because the alternative is too difficult to think about. But his relationship with Denji isn't so clear-cut, and so his role doesn't feel as simple as doing a job. Feeding him, making sure he gets up in time, making sure he's generally safe. The old job of warden faded long, long ago, even before he died. Feeling Denji clench his teeth around him and draw out his blood feels like finally finding some greater purpose, some sort of understanding of what he actually wants. He wants Denji. He wants him to want him. Aki groans, not in pain but in a sort of relief, like when someone suddenly grabs the weight you've been carrying, allowing you to rest for a moment. Denji flutters around him and he groans again. He can feel himself throbbing in him. Gently he shifts his hips to slide back and forth inside of him and savor the proximity, the touch. Whatever this is, he doesn't want to lose the taste.]
That's it... Keep going... [A hoarse approval as he shifts his hands and feels them around Denji's chest, sliding over his skin and over his cord and then to his nipples, searching them out when he can't look down and can barely see what's right in front of him, anyway. He can still feel wet tears sliding down his cheeks but it doesn't worry him or make him want to shy away. He continues slowly rocking up into him and enjoying the gentle push-pull of his body. The way he feels... connected.]
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[He used to find this sort of thing disgusting. He never got used to watching Denji drench himself in blood, in the meat and muscle of devils to replenish the motor running inside him. He remembers, once, one of the many times he sat filling out a report while standing over the mutilated corpse of a devil, telling Angel he was disgusting for how he nibbled at the edges of an appendage like biting chicken off a bone. Angel, in his non-plussed way, simply said, At least this way they serve a purpose. And what was that, filling the stomach of a glutton? Or something similar, had been Aki's response. But Angel had looked at him oddly, the perk of his brow expressing disappointment that Aki didn't understand. They can be appreciated, this way, he'd explained.]
[He didn't understand it at all, back then, but the moment Denji's teeth close around him and pierce skin, he understands it completely. It's not like Aki ever sought approval or appreciation from anyone but the very people who he felt would get him where he wanted to go. He didn't beg Himeno to complement him or work hard for the sake of Kishibe telling him he did a good job. Even now, he only works because he has to, because the alternative is too difficult to think about. But his relationship with Denji isn't so clear-cut, and so his role doesn't feel as simple as doing a job. Feeding him, making sure he gets up in time, making sure he's generally safe. The old job of warden faded long, long ago, even before he died. Feeling Denji clench his teeth around him and draw out his blood feels like finally finding some greater purpose, some sort of understanding of what he actually wants. He wants Denji. He wants him to want him. Aki groans, not in pain but in a sort of relief, like when someone suddenly grabs the weight you've been carrying, allowing you to rest for a moment. Denji flutters around him and he groans again. He can feel himself throbbing in him. Gently he shifts his hips to slide back and forth inside of him and savor the proximity, the touch. Whatever this is, he doesn't want to lose the taste.]
That's it... Keep going... [A hoarse approval as he shifts his hands and feels them around Denji's chest, sliding over his skin and over his cord and then to his nipples, searching them out when he can't look down and can barely see what's right in front of him, anyway. He can still feel wet tears sliding down his cheeks but it doesn't worry him or make him want to shy away. He continues slowly rocking up into him and enjoying the gentle push-pull of his body. The way he feels... connected.]