[ He can hear Abby wake, the shift of his breathing from something long and steady to the sigh one gives when coming out of a deep sleep.
Then the other noise, which is so...
Manly. For lack of a better word. Utterly devoid of class, and he almost smiles. Almost. He's waiting for Abby to make a decision - if he leaves, Romance can take it for what it was and move on with his day, try to clean up thew wreckage of his room and patch the holes in his heart. If he stays...
He'll cross that bridge if it comes to it, he supposes.
Mercifully, Romance doesn't have to wait long. Abby leans in and it's nice, the lips on his throat, warm and soft, then-- ]
Ah!
[ that is one way to be woken up. Or at least, yanked out of the pretend sleep he'd been holding onto like a threadbare blanket. Romance's eyes fly open and he yelps in surprise, something that turns into a little wheezing gasp, hands fluttering, one coming to rest on the back of Abby's head. ]
Abby—!
[ His tone? Strained, definitely. Aroused? Probably. Annoyed? Unclear. But there's color in his cheeks now and his neck stings just the right amount. There will also be no hiding that mark, unless he invests in some cashmere turtlenecks which isn't really conducive to the whole frilly romantic boy vibes he's got going on. ]
[Abby is thoroughly convinced he made the right choice, withdrawing his teeth, just to continue right on sucking on the sore spot until it was a dark, angry shade. He's like an animal marking his territory, ensuring everyone knows that this one is his. He does slightly soothe the abused skin with his tongue, chuckling sleepily.
Romance's hands feel just as good against his skin now as they did last night, that startled sound and chastisement making something fond flutter in Abby's gut.
He pushes himself up to look at Romance, hands braced on either side of his head, looming over the other man with his bulk. Truly, he's enjoying this far more than he expected, pleased to see Romance before he was able to perfect himself for the day, still mussed from sleep.]
[ Abby's name is sighed, drawn out in an annoyed groan as Romance’s hand slips from the back of Abby’s head down to his neck when he moves over him. It's just posturing, though - Romance would have swatted him away if he didn’t like it, but etiquette and what little remains of his dignity insist he at least pretend to be irritated.
His free hand drifts up to brush the tender mark on his throat, brushing over his sensitive skin with a soft wince. It stings because of course it does, but the ache of it settles low in his belly, warmth blooming up the back of his neck and into his cheeks despite all efforts to keep his composure. ]
...Good morning.
[ Abby's words make him squirm, making him feel, of all things, a little shy.
Objectively, Romance knows he's beautiful. That's why he's here in the first place and not long dead and buried topside. But there's something about waking up tangled and unkempt, knowing he looks like a disaster because he hasn't had an opportunity to put himself together and still being called beautiful...it does something to him. He doesn't know how to define it, and he thinks maybe that's something he should lock back up and just...not address.
His fingertips come to lightly rest on Abby's shoulders, followed by his palms, smoothing over warm skin, touch featherlight and hesitant, expression vaguely wary. ]
[Abby can feel that the annoyance is surface-level, at best. After all, Romance still has warm hands sliding over his patterned skin, gazing up at him with a hint of shyness. It's... cute. Abby had always assumed Romance was an ice queen--absolutely stupidly hot, but wouldn't pay real attention to anyone.
And maybe it was true, Abby had just struck gold and figured out the trick to romancing Romance.]
Mmn... [He hummed warmly at the touch, apparently some kind of large cat in a past life, the way he arched into Romance's hands. There was nothing uncertain or wary about Abby right now, very clearly making himself right at home, which makes him slightly confused by the remark.
Was he supposed to leave? He did wonder--]
You're warm.
[Well, that was a reason. A flimsy one. Giving voice to his fear of the darkness seeping in and giving him night terrors wasn't something he was prepared for. That answer would be far too honest.
And before Romance can poke any holes in his answer, Abby leans down to capture his lips in a kiss, soaking up the physical affection before he has to go back to being more stoic. They have to make their argument to Gwi-Ma today, but Jinu should be handling most of the details. They just have to show up, and as instructed, "be hot".
Abby had no idea if the others looked any good, but he knew for certain that he and Romance were goddamn gorgeous.]
[ Bullying. That's evidently what does it. The bulldozing into his room, manhandling him, throwing him like a sack of potatoes, slapping his ass kind of bullying.
Ruining him helps, too.
Romance still isn’t entirely sure how to act right now, mostly because this isn’t something people usually do with him. As a matter of fact, it's usually Romance that bolts before the first rays of light can stream through a cracked window. He's a lure, a creature used by Gwi-Ma to steal souls, molded to perfection over the centuries by their dear king. He's sent in, does what needs to be done, and he leaves. Romance, for all that his name suggests, is not actually that well versed in real romance.
But Abby stayed. He stayed because Romance asked him to, because he wanted to, and now...
Now Abby is still here,
Towering over him in the soft half-light, heavy and warm and kissing him like they didn’t just tear the bed apart last night, surrounded by ruined blankets and the lingering scent of sex.
Romance’s breath catches when Abby kisses him, the sound embarrassingly small. His fingers slide up the thick column of Abby’s neck to rest just under his chin, thumb brushing once against his jaw. ]
I'm glad you stayed. [ His fingers curl just a little tighter under Abby’s chin, guiding him closer, like he needs one more kiss to believe it's real. ]
[The kiss was partly meant to distract from his flimsy answer, but Romance is making soft little sounds, cupping his jaw like a lover would. Then he has the audacity to look up at him with those beautiful eyes, saying earnest things like I'm glad you stayed.
It's getting harder to lie to himself about what's happening between them.
But he gives in anyway, allowing Romance to pull him back down, their lips meeting in a way that is genuinely tender. Almost loving. There's a small (large, actually) part of him that fears this vulnerability, knowing that attachments like this could be used against him. Was it worth the risk?
He recalled the promise they made, to visit the sea, to feel the sun.]
Think your bed can handle me for another night?
[Which is his clumsy way of offering to make this a more regular thing.]
[ Both hands move to cradle Abby's face now, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, guiding him in, licking at his lips when Abby lets himself be pulled back in.
It's silly to get attached. There's no reason to think this will last once Abby leaves the room.
Or at least, that's what Romance thinks until Abby asks that question.
Long fingers gently tap Abby's temples, Romance's eyes staring up at him as he thinks on his answer. The honest one is no, probably not. His bed is in shambles. There's probably some structural issues going on, and his headboard is holding on our of sheer spite.
But that’s not the question Abby is actually asking, is it. And Romance is not stupid. ]
[Abby knows he's getting in too deep when he's nervous about the answer, so easily handing Romance the means to hurt him. No demon should do that, especially with another demon, and especially not one that harvested souls by making people fall in love.
Any logical person, maybe Jinu, would tell him this was a mistake.
But the answer is favorable, and there's a flash of relief in his eyes--before he schools his expression into something more smug, pretending that he totally knew it was fine and he was hot and Romance wanted him. Definitely no lingering guilt in his past that would make him feel unworthy, surely!]
We can always break mine next. [He offers, winking at Romance before giving him a look over... With the relief of Romance accepting him, he could focus on more important things.] ...Wanna go again before Jinu needs us? [Like, uh, being a horny bastard.]
[ Romance has been on that particular duty for a long, long time. Abby would be right not to trust him. Romance has spent centuries molding himself into whatever shape Gwi-Ma needed - temptation, distraction, seduction, executioner. He's a honeypot, and he's very good at being something he isn’t.
He's also an incredibly toxic little thing. People really shouldn't get involved with him at all, not beyond their little potential boy band group.
When he's himself it doesn't tend to go well. Limerance is a tidal wave that drowns both him and his victims, and Abby's already wandered into the danger zone. It's far to easy to picture the two of them visiting the sea, feeling the sunlight and hearing the thrum of hooves in sand. A fine meal shared, all the sujo they can consume.
It's something he's trying to forcibly hold back. Romance can quickly become too much, and he is barreling in that direction, head first. And Abby is...different. Romance has certainly been around the block a few hundred times, but then Abby says We can always break mine next, and winks at him like some gorgeous idiot, and Romance’s restraint goes up in flames. ]
Yes. [ The answer whooshes out of him, coasting on both a sigh and a laugh, lips curving into a smile. ] Yes, I do.
[The satisfied smirk that hooks across his handsome features is absurd, on a winning streak and letting it ride.]
C'mere- [He wraps one of his strong arms around Romance's trim waist, tugging the other man along as he rolls onto his back. Why did Romance even bother having a normal bed when he had an amply muscular one right here?
On his back he can actually use his hands, stroking the fingers of one hand along Romance's spine, giving just the faintest edge of claws. This is already a bit more tender, Abby isn't trying to convince Romance this time, he doesn't have to.
But before Romance assumes this will be a gentle round of extremely vanilla lovemaking, Abby's other hand gravitates towards his ass, giving it a good open-palmed slap before just grabbing a handful and squeezing. You can take the man from the barbarians, but you can't take the barbarian out of the man. Or something.]
Romance squawks at the manhandling and the indecency of the slap to his ass, you absolute heathen.
The claw down his spine, though - that has him distracted, a shiver rippling through his body, goose flesh pricking this skin. His hands lay flat on Abby’s chest, the lightest prick of claws pressing against him as he adjusts, straddling him properly, thighs hugging his sides.
He’s still in desperate need of a shower; he’s absolutely filthy, his hair is a mess and he’s entirely disheveled. It’s making him a little anxious - he doesn’t let people see him this raw. He’s very particular about his appearance, about how he chooses to present himself, and after waking up looking like a poodle after a bad spa day, he’s a little self-conscious.
And yet… Abby doesn’t care. And that’s either because there is truly something developing here or he’s just a brute with a high libido. Either way, he’s not looking at Romance in disgust. He wants Romance just as he is, still a little sleepy, warm from where he’d been under blankets, hair tangled, no longer perfectly styled.
Slowly, his claws drag down Abby’s chest. Not hard, just the lightest touch, almost ticklish.
They trace lower, drifting over Abby’s stomach, and curling against his hips. Romance shifts forward, slowly rolling his hips down to feel the heat of him between high thighs. It makes him shiver again, teeth coming down on his lower lip. ]
[Someday down the line, while having strawberries in a grassy field, Abby's head resting in his lap, he'll tell Romance more about what he remembers. Unfortunately a lot, as Gwi-Ma had ammo for days--centuries, even.
One tends to have to become comfortable with being uncomfortable when living a nomadic lifestyle, unable to lovingly curate a space for himself like Romance had here. And that's leaving aside the very lax hygiene standards of a bunch of overly aggressive men, living in a pack, constantly fighting each other for rank.
So what the hell does he care if Romance isn't all done up? It seems obvious enough to him, which is why he thinks nothing of it.
Instead, he only continues to prove his attraction to Romance, making a low, pleased sound as he feels the prick of claws on his chest, warm thighs spreading to straddle him. The low thrum of arousal he felt on waking has been rewarded, stiffening steadily between Romance's soft thighs, especially with those hands resting on his hips.
But in the midst of this, he's going to reach up and stroke over Romance's fluffy bed hair, clearing it from his face. Really, Abby just wants to see the lewd expressions he makes, but his hand lingers on Romance's cheek, rather liking how raw he looks.]
[ The touch to his hair makes him pause, look down at Abby with an unreadable expression on his face.
It's silly - of everything Abby has done to him in the last twelve hours or so, this really shouldn't be the thing that sends him over the edge. It's not the claws, not being pounded into another dimension, not the way Abby's cock is firming up between his thighs.
No, it's the almost gentle way his fingers slide through Romance's hair and brush it aside like he wants to see him, all of him, even the pieces Romance hides.
He could also be reading far too much into this, into everything. It wouldn't be the first time he'd completely misinterpreted something, creating an entire scenario in his head that doesn't exist. It's just...intimate in a way he isn't used to, and Romance's hands come back up to brace on Abby's chest, like he needs something to hold onto while his insides liquify.
Don't you dare, Romance. Don't you dare.
He doesn't say a word, only lets his lips curve into a sly little smile like he knows some secret Abby doesn't, and casually rolls his hips, smooth and practiced, heat and friction between them, Romance's interest obvious as it presses against Abby's stomach. ]
[Not having the chance to touch someone like this would do that, Abby soaking in how novel it is to be intimate with someone. It helps that Romance feeds into it, hands sliding along his chest, the firm warmth of that erection bumping along his abs.
He returns the conspiratory smile, shifting his hips until their lengths are closer together, Abby gripping them together in one hand, stroking softly. Again, he's struck by just how much prettier everything is when it comes to Romance--even his cock has a sweet flush to it.
But he can't maintain softness and sweetness for too long, it's not in his nature. The hand on Romance's cheek shifts, his fingers spreading, and his thumb nudging against Romance's mouth. Abby's smirk is sharper, honed in on how pretty Romance's lips are.
He's not going to be able to focus on anything while they're topside, is he? Not with Romance there. Not with those eyes and pouting lips, making him throb.]
[ Abby’s body really is magnificent; all heat and carved muscle. He looks like David in all his magnificence, carefully sculpted with all the love in the world, one of man's greatest creations. His hands glide over him slow, chest ot abdomen, up over his shoulders then down his arms in slow, appreciative sweeps.
Romance knows it wont stay soft and sweet that long, and it's fine by him, but while he has this moment, Romance indulges. carefully mapping Abby out like he's creating an atlas of his body.
Just the touching has him hard, Abby doesn't even have to do anything but exist under his hands and let Romance trace constellations in his skin. It's pathetic, really, if he dwells on it long enough. He's weak, weak to this, weak to the demon underneath him and it hasn't even been twenty-four hours.
He’s crazy. Certifiably insane. Not that this should surprise anyone, least of all himself, but it feels like a revelation, sharp and bright and terrifying.
Abby brings his attention back to the present when he moves, shifting his hips and wrapping his hand around both of them. His fingertips press against skin harder, sharper, and he tips his head against Abby's hand, never breaking their gaze. His lips part under the pressure of Abby's thumb and licks, lets himself smile again, lets his sharp teeth graze when he moves his head.
Romance plans on keeping Abby's attention for as long as he can. He's always been good at keeping people's attention. ]
[Once again, Abby is too involved with the now to start worrying about the way Romance is making him feel, letting the appreciative touches and fond gaze add to his enjoyment of the moment. He doesn't consider that Romance is struggling internally with new revelations about himself, about the two of them together.
No, he's allowing his inner-demon to bleed into the encounter, pressing his thumb into Romance's mouth with an absolutely devious smirk, responding to the edge of teeth with his own flash of claw. Gentle, just the suggestion of danger. It's obvious how much he enjoys the sight, Romance gazing into his eyes, lips slightly wet. His dick throbs noticeably against Romance's, groaning a little as he strokes them together just a little faster.]
God, you're beautiful- [He breathes, withdrawing his thumb to smear against Romance's mouth, wetting his lips.
If Romance sees him as a man chiseled from marble, then Abby sees an ethereal beauty, like a painting, something too perfect to be natural.
And also a seriously hot piece of ass. Duality of man and all that.]
Really, he should be used to it. He's heard it before, countless times. Whispered in the dark against his neck, licked into his skin. But coming from Abby, it hits different.
His mind tries to drag him under, deep into the what-ifs and never-weres, the doomed fantasies he’s built entire lifetimes around. This self-destruction, it's simply part of who he is, part of the creature he's become. He thinks about the now, the past. The future. Obsesses over what could and will be, ending up perpetually disappointed that the 'could be' is never what happens.
It would be so easy to drown in it, but Abby keeps him focused in the now. The press of his hand around them both, the weight of him beneath Romance's thighs, it keeps him centered.
It stops Romance from spiraling into the darkness, into the inky blackness where the only one who can hurt him is their king. And even if Abby decides to throw him to the curb and walk away, he has at least given him these moments of serenity and pleasure.
He flashes a radiant smile at Abby, one reserved for him and him alone. ]
You, [ he purrs, licking at his thumb, teeth nipping before he finishes his sentence, ] are exquisite.
He's noticed, there's something very specifically controlled about the way Romance smiles. Seductive smiles are just-so, devious ones need the right amount of teeth, and so on. He admits to not knowing enough about Romance to place why this specific smile is different, but it makes him feel... warm. Wanted, and not just in a physical sense.
Not that he was complaining about physical desire, far from it, considering he was committing the way Romance looked right now to memory. Flushed skin, messy hair, gorgeous smile...
Exquisite? That was new, Abby finding that he rather liked it.
His hand slid down from Romance's face, down his neck, and over his chest, tweaking a nipple with his slick thumb on the way by. The other hand pulled away with a last long stroke, both hands settling on Romance's thighs, teasing him with the sting of claws before sliding his hands back to cup his shapely ass.
Abby's not subtle when he tugs Romance closer, lifting his hips and positioning him more over Abby's lap.]
Mmn, think so? [He asks, bouncing his eyebrows suggestively.] Bet I feel exquisite, too.
[ There are different smiles and expressions for every occasion, yes. Abby is observant to notice that. Romance is very practiced at his ‘job’, which means expertly masking the difference between sincere, ‘I have to do this’, ‘I’m literally here to use you’, and ‘get fucked’ smiles. All are similar in scope, none truly genuine. So, it isn’t surprising that while Abby doesn’t know the how of it, he recognizes that it is different… that’s impressive.
His head tips back, exposing the marks Abby has left, notably the most recent one he left, the one Romance isn’t going to be able to hide. Abby’s hands on him - sliding down his throat, teasing his nipple, gripping his thighs, cupping his ass and physically moving him - it steals the breath right out of Romance’s lungs. The heat of his body beneath him, the sheer brute strength… it has him achingly hard, tip of his cock glistening, breath catching in his throat when he looks back down, wetting his lips, tongue sweeping over the place Abby’s thumb had smeared a moment before.
He likes being manhandled, maybe. Definitely.
He traces sharp fingertips over the patterns on Abby’s body, head tilted as he gives a casual rock of his hips. ]
[The way Romance is looking at him--licking his lips, arching into the touch, long lashes over his eyes--Abby feels a jolt go straight down to his hips, groaning low as he gazes up at the other demon with half-lidded, lust glazed eyes. The flattery also helps, since someone as flawless as Romance would certainly know how to identify something exquisite, no? His furniture choices seemed to imply it.
What was left of it, anyway.
A leisurely roll of his hips has his own leaking tip sliding along Romance's skin, growling in some pleased, animal way. Claws dig slightly into the soft flesh of his ass as Abby adjusts him, holding him open until he's obscenely nudging the wet head against his entrance.
Chest arching into the scrape of claws, his patterns ripple a shade darker, paired with a pleased, demonic growl. It's hard to be ashamed of his nature when he's being so thoroughly rewarded for it, the room rumbling faintly around them, the mirror shards tinkling along the ground.]
Look at you, [ He purrs, lips damp from his own tongue as he stares down at Abby's face. The sharp lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, the sweep of mussed hair over his forehead.
He glances over his shoulder at the floor where glass shivers in the fibers of his rug, dancing from the vibrations of Abby's growl. The rest of his interior design is going to be ruined by Abby's single snarl.
It does something to him he doesn't anticipate; it makes his muscles tense and he feels deliciously like prey that has just heard the predator behind it. His head swims and he feels drunk on it, skin warm, leaning slightly forward, takes a sharp breath in through his nose, lets his lungs fill. He can feel him, Abby's just there and it isn't enough, and he's starting to think maybe it'll never be enough. He's like an addict, seeking his next hit, hungry for the demon underneath him.
Romance leans down, hands sliding from chest to shoulders to the bed, planting on either side of his head. Lips brush Abby’s cheek as he exhales the sigh he's drank in, voice dropping into something smokey velvet, right in his ear. ]
Abby, please. [ Romance is all demon, soft violet with patterns scrawling over his skin like spilled ink. His hair is a mess, in his face, tickling Abby's cheeks. His grip flexes; he's being teased, and it's frustrating enough he nips Abby's ear, a sharp warning. He's pretty, but he bites. He's used to getting what he wants in whatever form that may be, and Abby's driving him crazy.
His nails prick at the sheets, tearing lines in the material on either side of Abby's body. His shit is shredded anyway, at this point he's going to just lean into it. It's tender carnality at its finest; torn silk, warm demon thighs, predatory growls, and obliterated self-control. Romance is milliseconds from simply dropping himself down onto Abby's dick and doing it himself. ]
[It's his inner warlord showing itself, laughter dark and pleased, teasing Romance with the possibility without giving in. Brash, strong, and a known capacity for cruelty--but only currently being used to gently torment his new lover.
They're both unglamoured, no less desperate for one another despite it, and Abby doesn't quite hear the faint murmur in the back of his head for once. Maybe later he'll consider what it felt like to temporarily not feel shame, so convinced by Romance's desire.
There's a different voice instead, murmuring beside his ear before biting down, making his hips jump just enough to almost give Romance what he wanted, perhaps intentionally only sliding along the outside. Even while getting harder to concentrate, he enjoys Romance's aroused frustration, just barely starting to press Romance's hips down, easing the tip in just enough to make him squirm.]
Please, what? [He asks, but his voice is somewhat breathless, struggling in his own way. Maybe it's just empowering to know that even the most beautiful and alluring of romance demons can't control his urges, Abby holding him firm, not letting him drop his hips too much.]
[ Romance is agitated, all claws and teeth, squirming against Abby's grip. Trying to wrench free and drop down on his on his own isn't working, and neither is the inhuman hiss that ghosts over Abby's ear. He's annoyed in the way that only a lover can be when they're not getting what they want.
Abby said Please, what? like a villain licking a knife, and Romance kind of wants to stab him with it, no matter how nice his abs are. He's being infuriating, and Romance wants to both kiss him and claw his face off.
He flexes his thighs, muscles moving under Abby's hands. His cheeks have flushed a bruised rose, heat rising to his face under soft violet skin. ]
You're really going to make me beg. [ You absolute bitch. ]
[Romance's frustration with him is far more fun than it should be, rather enjoying how he blusters and complains and hisses--but doesn't end up kicking him out. No, the reward seems worth the journey, Abby relenting and allowing him to slide down just enough for the full head of his cock to press inside.
His own abdomen flexes, attempting to keep a handle on his composure, even as Romance squirms and flexes around him, seeking it more, faster. A breath catches in his throat, claws dimpling dangerously into the violet skin under them, stopping just short of damage.
Abby is visibly struggling with his own game, pupils fat as he gazes at the frustrated flush to Romance's cheeks, knowing he was likely to falter before much longer.]
How else will I know what you want? [He asks with a smirk, fangs catching the light.]
[ The head slides in and it earns Abby a choked gasp, a twist of Romance's pretty face into something feral with a flash of teeth as he glares down at Abby.
That's the stretch he's been chasing, except it isn't enough, and Romance is a greedy lover. He wants all of it, and Abby isn't giving it to him.
Romance isn’t strong enough to break Abby’s grip, but he can tighten around what he’s been given - and he does, letting out a hiss between teeth that’s filled with more dramatics than protest. Abby’s grip flirts with the edge, and that’s exactly where he wants it.
He feels the twitch in Abby’s muscles in response - it's subtle, but there - and of course Romance notices. How could he not? That’s when his expression shifts, something sly blooming under all of his frustration. Realization settles, and it hits him that Abby's struggling just as much as he is. While Romance is gripped too tightly to take what he wants, he can still roll his hips slowly, just enough to sink down and rise again, teasing friction between them, his breathing turned uneven.
He traces a fingertip down Abby's skin from Adam's apple to abdomen, touch light, casual, like he's not the one ready to rip the rest of his goose down coverlet apart. ]
You're holding back, aren't you. [ It comes out a purr, low, a rumble in his chest, though the underlying tremble betrays what confidence he's been able to muster. ] Afraid you'll come too fast?
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Then the other noise, which is so...
Manly. For lack of a better word. Utterly devoid of class, and he almost smiles. Almost. He's waiting for Abby to make a decision - if he leaves, Romance can take it for what it was and move on with his day, try to clean up thew wreckage of his room and patch the holes in his heart. If he stays...
He'll cross that bridge if it comes to it, he supposes.
Mercifully, Romance doesn't have to wait long. Abby leans in and it's nice, the lips on his throat, warm and soft, then-- ]
Ah!
[ that is one way to be woken up. Or at least, yanked out of the pretend sleep he'd been holding onto like a threadbare blanket. Romance's eyes fly open and he yelps in surprise, something that turns into a little wheezing gasp, hands fluttering, one coming to rest on the back of Abby's head. ]
Abby—!
[ His tone? Strained, definitely. Aroused? Probably. Annoyed? Unclear. But there's color in his cheeks now and his neck stings just the right amount. There will also be no hiding that mark, unless he invests in some cashmere turtlenecks which isn't really conducive to the whole frilly romantic boy vibes he's got going on. ]
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Romance's hands feel just as good against his skin now as they did last night, that startled sound and chastisement making something fond flutter in Abby's gut.
He pushes himself up to look at Romance, hands braced on either side of his head, looming over the other man with his bulk. Truly, he's enjoying this far more than he expected, pleased to see Romance before he was able to perfect himself for the day, still mussed from sleep.]
Morning, beautiful.
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[ Abby's name is sighed, drawn out in an annoyed groan as Romance’s hand slips from the back of Abby’s head down to his neck when he moves over him. It's just posturing, though - Romance would have swatted him away if he didn’t like it, but etiquette and what little remains of his dignity insist he at least pretend to be irritated.
His free hand drifts up to brush the tender mark on his throat, brushing over his sensitive skin with a soft wince. It stings because of course it does, but the ache of it settles low in his belly, warmth blooming up the back of his neck and into his cheeks despite all efforts to keep his composure. ]
...Good morning.
[ Abby's words make him squirm, making him feel, of all things, a little shy.
Objectively, Romance knows he's beautiful. That's why he's here in the first place and not long dead and buried topside. But there's something about waking up tangled and unkempt, knowing he looks like a disaster because he hasn't had an opportunity to put himself together and still being called beautiful...it does something to him. He doesn't know how to define it, and he thinks maybe that's something he should lock back up and just...not address.
His fingertips come to lightly rest on Abby's shoulders, followed by his palms, smoothing over warm skin, touch featherlight and hesitant, expression vaguely wary. ]
I didn't expect you to still be here.
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And maybe it was true, Abby had just struck gold and figured out the trick to romancing Romance.]
Mmn... [He hummed warmly at the touch, apparently some kind of large cat in a past life, the way he arched into Romance's hands. There was nothing uncertain or wary about Abby right now, very clearly making himself right at home, which makes him slightly confused by the remark.
Was he supposed to leave? He did wonder--]
You're warm.
[Well, that was a reason. A flimsy one. Giving voice to his fear of the darkness seeping in and giving him night terrors wasn't something he was prepared for. That answer would be far too honest.
And before Romance can poke any holes in his answer, Abby leans down to capture his lips in a kiss, soaking up the physical affection before he has to go back to being more stoic. They have to make their argument to Gwi-Ma today, but Jinu should be handling most of the details. They just have to show up, and as instructed, "be hot".
Abby had no idea if the others looked any good, but he knew for certain that he and Romance were goddamn gorgeous.]
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Ruining him helps, too.
Romance still isn’t entirely sure how to act right now, mostly because this isn’t something people usually do with him. As a matter of fact, it's usually Romance that bolts before the first rays of light can stream through a cracked window. He's a lure, a creature used by Gwi-Ma to steal souls, molded to perfection over the centuries by their dear king. He's sent in, does what needs to be done, and he leaves. Romance, for all that his name suggests, is not actually that well versed in real romance.
But Abby stayed. He stayed because Romance asked him to, because he wanted to, and now...
Now Abby is still here,
Towering over him in the soft half-light, heavy and warm and kissing him like they didn’t just tear the bed apart last night, surrounded by ruined blankets and the lingering scent of sex.
Romance’s breath catches when Abby kisses him, the sound embarrassingly small. His fingers slide up the thick column of Abby’s neck to rest just under his chin, thumb brushing once against his jaw. ]
I'm glad you stayed. [ His fingers curl just a little tighter under Abby’s chin, guiding him closer, like he needs one more kiss to believe it's real. ]
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It's getting harder to lie to himself about what's happening between them.
But he gives in anyway, allowing Romance to pull him back down, their lips meeting in a way that is genuinely tender. Almost loving. There's a small (large, actually) part of him that fears this vulnerability, knowing that attachments like this could be used against him. Was it worth the risk?
He recalled the promise they made, to visit the sea, to feel the sun.]
Think your bed can handle me for another night?
[Which is his clumsy way of offering to make this a more regular thing.]
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It's silly to get attached. There's no reason to think this will last once Abby leaves the room.
Or at least, that's what Romance thinks until Abby asks that question.
Long fingers gently tap Abby's temples, Romance's eyes staring up at him as he thinks on his answer. The honest one is no, probably not. His bed is in shambles. There's probably some structural issues going on, and his headboard is holding on our of sheer spite.
But that’s not the question Abby is actually asking, is it. And Romance is not stupid. ]
I think it'll hold up just fine.
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Any logical person, maybe Jinu, would tell him this was a mistake.
But the answer is favorable, and there's a flash of relief in his eyes--before he schools his expression into something more smug, pretending that he totally knew it was fine and he was hot and Romance wanted him. Definitely no lingering guilt in his past that would make him feel unworthy, surely!]
We can always break mine next. [He offers, winking at Romance before giving him a look over... With the relief of Romance accepting him, he could focus on more important things.] ...Wanna go again before Jinu needs us? [Like, uh, being a horny bastard.]
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He's also an incredibly toxic little thing. People really shouldn't get involved with him at all, not beyond their little potential boy band group.
When he's himself it doesn't tend to go well. Limerance is a tidal wave that drowns both him and his victims, and Abby's already wandered into the danger zone. It's far to easy to picture the two of them visiting the sea, feeling the sunlight and hearing the thrum of hooves in sand. A fine meal shared, all the sujo they can consume.
It's something he's trying to forcibly hold back. Romance can quickly become too much, and he is barreling in that direction, head first. And Abby is...different. Romance has certainly been around the block a few hundred times, but then Abby says We can always break mine next, and winks at him like some gorgeous idiot, and Romance’s restraint goes up in flames. ]
Yes. [ The answer whooshes out of him, coasting on both a sigh and a laugh, lips curving into a smile. ] Yes, I do.
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C'mere- [He wraps one of his strong arms around Romance's trim waist, tugging the other man along as he rolls onto his back. Why did Romance even bother having a normal bed when he had an amply muscular one right here?
On his back he can actually use his hands, stroking the fingers of one hand along Romance's spine, giving just the faintest edge of claws. This is already a bit more tender, Abby isn't trying to convince Romance this time, he doesn't have to.
But before Romance assumes this will be a gentle round of extremely vanilla lovemaking, Abby's other hand gravitates towards his ass, giving it a good open-palmed slap before just grabbing a handful and squeezing. You can take the man from the barbarians, but you can't take the barbarian out of the man. Or something.]
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Romance squawks at the manhandling and the indecency of the slap to his ass, you absolute heathen.
The claw down his spine, though - that has him distracted, a shiver rippling through his body, goose flesh pricking this skin. His hands lay flat on Abby’s chest, the lightest prick of claws pressing against him as he adjusts, straddling him properly, thighs hugging his sides.
He’s still in desperate need of a shower; he’s absolutely filthy, his hair is a mess and he’s entirely disheveled. It’s making him a little anxious - he doesn’t let people see him this raw. He’s very particular about his appearance, about how he chooses to present himself, and after waking up looking like a poodle after a bad spa day, he’s a little self-conscious.
And yet… Abby doesn’t care. And that’s either because there is truly something developing here or he’s just a brute with a high libido. Either way, he’s not looking at Romance in disgust. He wants Romance just as he is, still a little sleepy, warm from where he’d been under blankets, hair tangled, no longer perfectly styled.
Slowly, his claws drag down Abby’s chest. Not hard, just the lightest touch, almost ticklish.
They trace lower, drifting over Abby’s stomach, and curling against his hips. Romance shifts forward, slowly rolling his hips down to feel the heat of him between high thighs. It makes him shiver again, teeth coming down on his lower lip. ]
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One tends to have to become comfortable with being uncomfortable when living a nomadic lifestyle, unable to lovingly curate a space for himself like Romance had here. And that's leaving aside the very lax hygiene standards of a bunch of overly aggressive men, living in a pack, constantly fighting each other for rank.
So what the hell does he care if Romance isn't all done up? It seems obvious enough to him, which is why he thinks nothing of it.
Instead, he only continues to prove his attraction to Romance, making a low, pleased sound as he feels the prick of claws on his chest, warm thighs spreading to straddle him. The low thrum of arousal he felt on waking has been rewarded, stiffening steadily between Romance's soft thighs, especially with those hands resting on his hips.
But in the midst of this, he's going to reach up and stroke over Romance's fluffy bed hair, clearing it from his face. Really, Abby just wants to see the lewd expressions he makes, but his hand lingers on Romance's cheek, rather liking how raw he looks.]
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It's silly - of everything Abby has done to him in the last twelve hours or so, this really shouldn't be the thing that sends him over the edge. It's not the claws, not being pounded into another dimension, not the way Abby's cock is firming up between his thighs.
No, it's the almost gentle way his fingers slide through Romance's hair and brush it aside like he wants to see him, all of him, even the pieces Romance hides.
He could also be reading far too much into this, into everything. It wouldn't be the first time he'd completely misinterpreted something, creating an entire scenario in his head that doesn't exist. It's just...intimate in a way he isn't used to, and Romance's hands come back up to brace on Abby's chest, like he needs something to hold onto while his insides liquify.
Don't you dare, Romance. Don't you dare.
He doesn't say a word, only lets his lips curve into a sly little smile like he knows some secret Abby doesn't, and casually rolls his hips, smooth and practiced, heat and friction between them, Romance's interest obvious as it presses against Abby's stomach. ]
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He returns the conspiratory smile, shifting his hips until their lengths are closer together, Abby gripping them together in one hand, stroking softly. Again, he's struck by just how much prettier everything is when it comes to Romance--even his cock has a sweet flush to it.
But he can't maintain softness and sweetness for too long, it's not in his nature. The hand on Romance's cheek shifts, his fingers spreading, and his thumb nudging against Romance's mouth. Abby's smirk is sharper, honed in on how pretty Romance's lips are.
He's not going to be able to focus on anything while they're topside, is he? Not with Romance there. Not with those eyes and pouting lips, making him throb.]
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Romance knows it wont stay soft and sweet that long, and it's fine by him, but while he has this moment, Romance indulges. carefully mapping Abby out like he's creating an atlas of his body.
Just the touching has him hard, Abby doesn't even have to do anything but exist under his hands and let Romance trace constellations in his skin. It's pathetic, really, if he dwells on it long enough. He's weak, weak to this, weak to the demon underneath him and it hasn't even been twenty-four hours.
He’s crazy. Certifiably insane. Not that this should surprise anyone, least of all himself, but it feels like a revelation, sharp and bright and terrifying.
Abby brings his attention back to the present when he moves, shifting his hips and wrapping his hand around both of them. His fingertips press against skin harder, sharper, and he tips his head against Abby's hand, never breaking their gaze. His lips part under the pressure of Abby's thumb and licks, lets himself smile again, lets his sharp teeth graze when he moves his head.
Romance plans on keeping Abby's attention for as long as he can. He's always been good at keeping people's attention. ]
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No, he's allowing his inner-demon to bleed into the encounter, pressing his thumb into Romance's mouth with an absolutely devious smirk, responding to the edge of teeth with his own flash of claw. Gentle, just the suggestion of danger. It's obvious how much he enjoys the sight, Romance gazing into his eyes, lips slightly wet. His dick throbs noticeably against Romance's, groaning a little as he strokes them together just a little faster.]
God, you're beautiful- [He breathes, withdrawing his thumb to smear against Romance's mouth, wetting his lips.
If Romance sees him as a man chiseled from marble, then Abby sees an ethereal beauty, like a painting, something too perfect to be natural.
And also a seriously hot piece of ass. Duality of man and all that.]
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Really, he should be used to it. He's heard it before, countless times. Whispered in the dark against his neck, licked into his skin. But coming from Abby, it hits different.
His mind tries to drag him under, deep into the what-ifs and never-weres, the doomed fantasies he’s built entire lifetimes around. This self-destruction, it's simply part of who he is, part of the creature he's become. He thinks about the now, the past. The future. Obsesses over what could and will be, ending up perpetually disappointed that the 'could be' is never what happens.
It would be so easy to drown in it, but Abby keeps him focused in the now. The press of his hand around them both, the weight of him beneath Romance's thighs, it keeps him centered.
It stops Romance from spiraling into the darkness, into the inky blackness where the only one who can hurt him is their king. And even if Abby decides to throw him to the curb and walk away, he has at least given him these moments of serenity and pleasure.
He flashes a radiant smile at Abby, one reserved for him and him alone. ]
You, [ he purrs, licking at his thumb, teeth nipping before he finishes his sentence, ] are exquisite.
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He's noticed, there's something very specifically controlled about the way Romance smiles. Seductive smiles are just-so, devious ones need the right amount of teeth, and so on. He admits to not knowing enough about Romance to place why this specific smile is different, but it makes him feel... warm. Wanted, and not just in a physical sense.
Not that he was complaining about physical desire, far from it, considering he was committing the way Romance looked right now to memory. Flushed skin, messy hair, gorgeous smile...
Exquisite? That was new, Abby finding that he rather liked it.
His hand slid down from Romance's face, down his neck, and over his chest, tweaking a nipple with his slick thumb on the way by. The other hand pulled away with a last long stroke, both hands settling on Romance's thighs, teasing him with the sting of claws before sliding his hands back to cup his shapely ass.
Abby's not subtle when he tugs Romance closer, lifting his hips and positioning him more over Abby's lap.]
Mmn, think so? [He asks, bouncing his eyebrows suggestively.] Bet I feel exquisite, too.
[He really thought he did something with that.]
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His head tips back, exposing the marks Abby has left, notably the most recent one he left, the one Romance isn’t going to be able to hide. Abby’s hands on him - sliding down his throat, teasing his nipple, gripping his thighs, cupping his ass and physically moving him - it steals the breath right out of Romance’s lungs. The heat of his body beneath him, the sheer brute strength… it has him achingly hard, tip of his cock glistening, breath catching in his throat when he looks back down, wetting his lips, tongue sweeping over the place Abby’s thumb had smeared a moment before.
He likes being manhandled, maybe. Definitely.
He traces sharp fingertips over the patterns on Abby’s body, head tilted as he gives a casual rock of his hips. ]
Exquisite doesn’t even begin to cover it.
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What was left of it, anyway.
A leisurely roll of his hips has his own leaking tip sliding along Romance's skin, growling in some pleased, animal way. Claws dig slightly into the soft flesh of his ass as Abby adjusts him, holding him open until he's obscenely nudging the wet head against his entrance.
Chest arching into the scrape of claws, his patterns ripple a shade darker, paired with a pleased, demonic growl. It's hard to be ashamed of his nature when he's being so thoroughly rewarded for it, the room rumbling faintly around them, the mirror shards tinkling along the ground.]
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He glances over his shoulder at the floor where glass shivers in the fibers of his rug, dancing from the vibrations of Abby's growl. The rest of his interior design is going to be ruined by Abby's single snarl.
It does something to him he doesn't anticipate; it makes his muscles tense and he feels deliciously like prey that has just heard the predator behind it. His head swims and he feels drunk on it, skin warm, leaning slightly forward, takes a sharp breath in through his nose, lets his lungs fill. He can feel him, Abby's just there and it isn't enough, and he's starting to think maybe it'll never be enough. He's like an addict, seeking his next hit, hungry for the demon underneath him.
Romance leans down, hands sliding from chest to shoulders to the bed, planting on either side of his head. Lips brush Abby’s cheek as he exhales the sigh he's drank in, voice dropping into something smokey velvet, right in his ear. ]
Abby, please. [ Romance is all demon, soft violet with patterns scrawling over his skin like spilled ink. His hair is a mess, in his face, tickling Abby's cheeks. His grip flexes; he's being teased, and it's frustrating enough he nips Abby's ear, a sharp warning. He's pretty, but he bites. He's used to getting what he wants in whatever form that may be, and Abby's driving him crazy.
His nails prick at the sheets, tearing lines in the material on either side of Abby's body. His shit is shredded anyway, at this point he's going to just lean into it. It's tender carnality at its finest; torn silk, warm demon thighs, predatory growls, and obliterated self-control. Romance is milliseconds from simply dropping himself down onto Abby's dick and doing it himself. ]
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They're both unglamoured, no less desperate for one another despite it, and Abby doesn't quite hear the faint murmur in the back of his head for once. Maybe later he'll consider what it felt like to temporarily not feel shame, so convinced by Romance's desire.
There's a different voice instead, murmuring beside his ear before biting down, making his hips jump just enough to almost give Romance what he wanted, perhaps intentionally only sliding along the outside. Even while getting harder to concentrate, he enjoys Romance's aroused frustration, just barely starting to press Romance's hips down, easing the tip in just enough to make him squirm.]
Please, what? [He asks, but his voice is somewhat breathless, struggling in his own way. Maybe it's just empowering to know that even the most beautiful and alluring of romance demons can't control his urges, Abby holding him firm, not letting him drop his hips too much.]
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Abby said Please, what? like a villain licking a knife, and Romance kind of wants to stab him with it, no matter how nice his abs are. He's being infuriating, and Romance wants to both kiss him and claw his face off.
He flexes his thighs, muscles moving under Abby's hands. His cheeks have flushed a bruised rose, heat rising to his face under soft violet skin. ]
You're really going to make me beg. [ You absolute bitch. ]
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His own abdomen flexes, attempting to keep a handle on his composure, even as Romance squirms and flexes around him, seeking it more, faster. A breath catches in his throat, claws dimpling dangerously into the violet skin under them, stopping just short of damage.
Abby is visibly struggling with his own game, pupils fat as he gazes at the frustrated flush to Romance's cheeks, knowing he was likely to falter before much longer.]
How else will I know what you want? [He asks with a smirk, fangs catching the light.]
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That's the stretch he's been chasing, except it isn't enough, and Romance is a greedy lover. He wants all of it, and Abby isn't giving it to him.
Romance isn’t strong enough to break Abby’s grip, but he can tighten around what he’s been given - and he does, letting out a hiss between teeth that’s filled with more dramatics than protest. Abby’s grip flirts with the edge, and that’s exactly where he wants it.
He feels the twitch in Abby’s muscles in response - it's subtle, but there - and of course Romance notices. How could he not? That’s when his expression shifts, something sly blooming under all of his frustration. Realization settles, and it hits him that Abby's struggling just as much as he is. While Romance is gripped too tightly to take what he wants, he can still roll his hips slowly, just enough to sink down and rise again, teasing friction between them, his breathing turned uneven.
He traces a fingertip down Abby's skin from Adam's apple to abdomen, touch light, casual, like he's not the one ready to rip the rest of his goose down coverlet apart. ]
You're holding back, aren't you. [ It comes out a purr, low, a rumble in his chest, though the underlying tremble betrays what confidence he's been able to muster. ] Afraid you'll come too fast?
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