omertae | Open post.

The laugh makes him grind to a stop with his cock buried deep, his hips pressed right up against him, and Angelo waits a moment, taking in the silence. "Maybe," he says softly. "You can never get enough of it." And he rolls his hips back and fucks into him again, just once, hard. "How'm I supposed to know what you do when you aren't with me?"

Angelo stopping makes him snarl, once again both frustrated and excited because he wasn't lying about that. Angelo drives him crazy, intoxicating him in a way no other human ever has. There's never been another human like him. Alastor steadies himself, keeping his grip on Angelo's hand tight around his cock just in case the son of a bitch tries to let go, and grunts with pleasure as he's filled up so roughly, like Angelo is marking his territory. He runs his tongue across his teeth. "You could ask."

"Was that not asking?" Angelo mumbles against his skin, rolling his hips again, a little less roughly this time. He kisses the back of his neck almost sweetly. "Tell me."

Alastor wants to rebel, on some sort of ill-defined principle alone; it certainly isn't fair for Angelo to deny him so much and then make such personal requests. But it's not like he's keeping secrets. Angelo has occupied so much of his time and energy that he wouldn't leave as often as he does, if not for the risk of overstaying his welcome. Alastor rocks back onto Angelo's cock, demanding, wanting at the very least to be rewarded for playing along.

"I blend in," he murmurs, dropping his head forward, letting his hair fall into his eyes. "I have friends. Hobbies. Interests that don't revolve around you." Another glance cast back to Angelo, with a trace of a smirk. "Despite so many of them that do."

It sounds boring. But Alastor gave him an answer, and it sounded honest enough, so Angelo supposes he has to give him something for it. He rolls his hips forward again, his head falling forward a little as a shudder of pleasure rolls through him. He finds a rhythm again, less frenetic than before, practically sweet in comparison although it's not soft by any means. "I don't believe you," Angelo tells him. "The way you act, seems like all you ever do is think about me."

"Unh." Alastor lets his eyes slip shut and arches his back again, bracing himself there for an angle that feels so goddamn good, at a pace that's gonna draw it out, make him impatient and greedy and molten-hot before too long. It's so fucking good. "You asked what I'm doing," he gasps, "not what I'm thinking about."

"Oh," Angelo says, almost laughing himself until he distracts himself for a minute just looking at Alastor, marvelling at how he feels, the way he presses back against him, the way he looks; Angelo can only just see him in the dark, but he's captivating all the same. "So I'm right?"

He tosses his hair a little, only enough to be able to see Angelo when he looks back at him again, panting softly, completely unrepentant. "I'm never not thinking about you, Angel."

Angelo picks up his free hand from the cabinet just so he can touch him somewhere else, his fingers tracing over the line of his hip and up under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, almost stroking him as he fucks him slow and deep. "Always?"

Alastor wonders just how much longer he can take this steady pace before it drives him out of his mind. It feels so much more like them when Angelo fucks him hard and fast and rough, but this is rarer, something that makes his blood crackle under his skin. He's silent for a minute, except for the unsteady panting breaths in time to Angelo's cock thrusting into him. Then abruptly he pushes himself upright and reaches back to grab Angelo's neck again, twisting just enough to drag him into a fierce, hungry kiss.

The kiss spurs him into action again; with a moan he tears away from it, lifting his hand out of Alastor's shirt to steady himself on the cabinet again. That first almost savage fuck into him makes him gasp, his grip tight everywhere, and he falls back into something faster and harder like he hadn't even stopped at all. He's close and it's making him tense, and loud too, moaning with each hard snap of his hips.

"Oh, fuck." Is that more like it? Yes, he thinks so. Alastor lets Angelo rip himself away and immediately grabs hold of the cabinet again as well, bracing both of them, his head rolling back with a shameless moan of pleasure that blends seamlessly with the sounds Angelo is making. He doesn't even need to touch himself, although the grip on his cock certainly isn't hurting. It's feeling Angelo draw closer and closer to the edge that's bringing him there too, gasping, raw and ragged, fucking himself backward into those savage thrusts to drive them both toward it.

It doesn't take long; he just has to look at Alastor a little longer, listen to him, feel him pushing greedily against every thrust, and then Angelo comes, buried all the way inside him, moaning with his mouth pressed against Alastor's throat. His hips roll forward, a little looser with each thrust, as he works himself through it, before he pulls out and lets his head hang a little to catch his breath, his forehead touching Alastor's shoulder.

If he'd had anything in his hands besides Angelo's fingers and his own dick, he'd have broken whatever it was into splinters; fortunately he never fully gripped the cabinet he's bracing himself against, so it survives unscathed when Angelo finally comes inside him and sends Alastor's pleasure spiking, and shattering. Getting to come is great and all, but there's something in the nature of demons that makes it feel so fucking good when his volatile little human fills him, like an unspoken pact of its own kind. Maybe that's why he's satisfied for the time being, held off a little longer every time they fuck each other senseless, or near enough.

He shudders, just a little, as Angelo pulls out of him, an involuntary movement that surprises him, but he ignores it; after a second, he pushes the hair out of his eyes and lets out a deep sigh, releasing Angelo's fingers without a fuss. "...Damn."

Angelo, still breathing hard, lets go of Alastor all at once, taking a step away so he can slide out of his underwear and start to unbutton his shirt on the way to his bedroom. "Are you gonna stay?" he asks as he shrugs out of his shirt. "Unless you have one of your other special little hobbies you gotta go do."

He laughs, just a little breathless, finally straightening up and turning around, sliding his shirt over his head without any ceremony whatsoever. "Nothing that can't wait," he replies with a little grin, reaching up to toy idly with the little crucifix around Angelo's neck.

"Mm." Angelo narrows his eyes a little. "So what are these hobbies? You never told me that part." With his shirt undone, he tosses it in the direction of the couch where he can pick it up tomorrow. "You like to knit, Ally?"

That makes his grin grow wider, and he stretches his arms over his head, arching his back and nearly purring with satisfaction. "Oh, you know... Traveling, mostly. I like to check back in on little places in the world where I've had a good time before... see if I can't have a good time again. Sometimes I see how long I can pretend to be human. That's fun."

"Doesn't sound fun," Angelo observes, and pulls away so he can trail into his bedroom. It's dark in here too, and the curtains are already drawn, so he just drops on top of his covers and reaches over to flick on the small lamp on the nightstand. "No offence, but that sounds boring as hell."

Alastor follows him, laughing now, as he climbs up onto the bed and prowls above Angelo, the glow of the lamp thrown across his face turning his skin gold. "You're just saying that because I'm not here with you instead of all that," he says with audible amusement, and he ducks down to press a kiss against Angelo's chest. "I think you'd say that no matter what I told you I was doing."

A pause as Angelo tips his head back, staring at the ceiling for a minute, and then he says, "Yeah. What's your point? You gonna make a point?" He lifts a hand to find a spot near Alastor's ribs and pinch the thin skin between his index finger and thumb, which is about as playful as he gets. "Make your point, I'm listening."

"My point is," Alastor murmurs, twisting a little without quite lifting his lips away from Angelo's skin, "you don't have to be so reluctant to admit you like having me around."

"I'm not reluctant," Angelo says, almost indignantly, setting his hand flat on Alastor's ribcage for a second and then letting his arm thump against the mattress. "I've admitted it. Multiple times."

He lifts his head, hovering above Angelo with both hands braced on either side of him, looking politely confused as he considers it. "Guess I must have missed the times before you actually had your dick all the way in my ass."

"All the way, huh?" Angelo asks, cracking a little smile. "What's the matter with you, anyway, you feeling underappreciated at the office?"

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reader, he's lying

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