#luc.kity

Arin's looking up at Quackity with big, innocent, piercing blue eyes, curiosity swimming in them. He can't help but stare, Arin loves pretty things, and the fluorescent lighting of the cell casing Quackity's head like a halo, casting dark shadows on his face as he locks eyes with him – well.

Arin loves pretty things.

Quackity softly places a hand on Arin's head, smoothing out his hair and petting him lightly. He can't help but adore him, but Arin's so innocent and curious about the world that it makes Quackity want to kiss him.

Guiding Arin's gaze down to his cock that's steadily stiffening, he instructs Arin to open his mouth, tongue out slightly, and directs him forward, caressing his tongue along his cock. Quackity shudders, instructing Arin to open wider, and begins pushing his dick in his mouth.

Arin's mouth is soft, and he's obedient, keeping it open wide enough for Quackity. Quackity feels warm in his mouth, and the fist in his hair isn't unwelcome. He just doesn't have much clue on what to do.

"Okay, now suck," he hears Quackity say to him. Arin just stares at him, blue eyes locked on to Quackity's.

"You know, like a lollipop? Candy?" Quackity tries, trying to push Arin in the right direction. He doesn't budge.

"Okay, kinda like– you know blowing bubbles? Well it's the opposite of that, so–" and Quackity pulls his lips back to mimic sucking his teeth, hoping Arin gets the gist.

Eventually Arin catches on, sucking lightly like how Quackity demonstrated. He's in no way a natural at it, but still Quackity rolls his eyes back at the stimulation, hand fisting in Arin's hair to move him along, other hand braces against the wall.

He guides Arin gently, moves him along his cock like a toy, leaving him room to breathe as well. Arin doesn't have much of a gag reflex, but Quackity doesn't want to test it yet – he's still showing him the ropes after all. Arin just stares up at Quackity, taking in his features and how his face shifts and crumples and how much redder his cheeks are turning.

Quackity's sweating, from the heat of the cell as well as using Arin's mouth to his liking, bangs sticking to his forehead as beads of sweat roll down his temples and chin and fall to the floor. His eyes are clenched shut, so he doesn't notice Arin being enamoured by how he looks, or that his hands are fiddling with something in his lap.

When Arin taps on his leg, he's holding out a book in front of him. Where or how Arin managed to surface it, he won't pry. Still, he opens the book and reads the words inside.

"You look very pretty, Quackity."

Quackity smiles, endeared.

"Your 'thing' is very pretty too."

And Quackity's face burns like a flame, and he can't help but drop the book and thrust into Arin's mouth desperately, attacking his throat with his cock until he feels it hitting the back with each thrust. And Arin, obedient as he is, keeps his mouth open for Quackity, because Quackity is very pretty, and looks even prettier like this, when he's chasing his orgasm.

Eventually Quackity shoves Arin down deep and cums in his mouth, crying out in desperation. He hears his own voice echo in the cell, and maybe some shuffling of footsteps, but nothing comes. He opens his eyes and pulls out, eyeing Arin to make sure he's okay.

Arin still has his mouth open, because Quackity never told him to close it, so all Quackity sees is silky white fluid dribble down his chin and to his lap. Arin never breaks eye contact, never squirms or shifts, just holds the book out to Quackity again. Quackity takes it and opens it again.

"Was it good?"