Sexy | Naughty | Bitchy

@lusturia asked: Angel? Sitting up right in bed, playing Candy Crush on his phone. Val? In his lap, arms around his waist being more than lazy getting out of bed. Why would he? Their favorite Soap Opera just released and the last twenty four hours have been sent binging it. Food was delivered to him, and Kitty was at the ready with fresh sheets when they got a bit frisky. Life was perfect.

Each limb tightened as it stretched, a loud groan escaping as a CRACK snapped in his back. On letting gravity take him back down, his cheek landed against the meat of Angel's thigh. Muscular. Thick. Just ripe for the biting that followed seconds later.

A little more than sleepy, but still awake enough to absentmindedly play with his phone-- Angel was just about as relaxed as Valentino. Which, for them? A rarity. Half-lidded eyes turned from his phone, to Valentino-- feeling his shifting body, paired with those pops Angel knew all too well. Being some of the taller bitches down here had a few spinal repercussions. He watched Valentino's eyes, could sense the man's mischief before it was made. He knew that look, the purse of his lips-- and that knowledge of his lover allowed him to brace, fingertips pressing into the mattress, taking the bite head-on, sucking in a slow breath as razor teeth sliced into his leg like a hot knife through butter. Painful-- but it made him feel alive.

"That all you got?" His own teeth scraped against his lower lip, tired, but never one to bypass being a brat.

"Careful with that tone. You forget who you're talking to?"

Always egging each other on. Always pushing further. Wanting more. Looking at the lines in the sand and dancing on them. When Val bites a second time, he goes until the taste of copper mixes in with strawberry. Knowing it was a bad idea to mark his favorite when there's clients to please and films to shoot only provoked him further.

but alastor was basically the fucking boogie man having been a terror to overlords for decades before val even died. val used to be scared of alastor, for obvious reasons. if you weren't, you were going to end up a scream in his radio.