[Very true. One look at the Feline's physique previously and you'd think he'd be very good at breaking down doors. Perhaps they should all start learning to pick locks, instead.]
[Affection is not something that enters Matoba's mind almost ever, consciously. The upbringing of an exorcist is one of learning to repress, to erase selfhood. Youkai can't take advantage of what's in your heart if you yourself don't acknowledge it, if there is nothing to read, nothing to reflect. And yet, it's impossible to erase all of the soft edges out of what makes one human without losing oneself entirely. Not all of who he is has been erased from Matoba Seiji, in weaponizing himself.]
[And for those who knew "Seiji" before "Matoba", there have always been certain feline weaknesses. Maybe it's better if Broca doesn't know that's why he's getting the heavy petting, though.]
[Broca's eye opens, and Matoba grins when he notices. His earlier estimation was right. Smug. The bruising squeeze does little to deter it but earn another bubbling chuckle in his throat. He's content to keep sucking on Broca's tongue in his mouth for a little while as his hand warmly wraps over him to stroke in earnest, but when he feels the tautness of his cock fully primed, he instead leaves it hanging a moment for some self-care. He's not in this for charity.]
Here. [He murmurs, gripping Broca's wrist at his hip and urging it to curl the few inches inward, to slip inside of his bathrobe and take hold of him, and reaching to undo the knot at his waist to make it easier. The robe unfurls and leaves the front of his body exposed, easy to access, and openly aroused in return. The saving grace perhaps, of being a new arrival that had ventured into the closet for clothes.]
[Putting the man to work, Matoba leans in on the balls of his feet to press hips inward, grinding the top half of his cock in a slow motion against Broca's and leaving a sticky trail against him. He wraps his hand over them both this time and gives a slow squeeze, grinding the heads together in his palm. A slow breath escapes him as he does so, pleasure into Broca's mouth as his lips return to his with a slow kiss at first, and then a nibble at his bottom lip. Leading him back along into it slowly, but this time, he intends to stop playing with his food.]
[And restarting that timer, by the way, on purpose. But that's okay. They can take their time with this.]
no subject
[Affection is not something that enters Matoba's mind almost ever, consciously. The upbringing of an exorcist is one of learning to repress, to erase selfhood. Youkai can't take advantage of what's in your heart if you yourself don't acknowledge it, if there is nothing to read, nothing to reflect. And yet, it's impossible to erase all of the soft edges out of what makes one human without losing oneself entirely. Not all of who he is has been erased from Matoba Seiji, in weaponizing himself.]
[And for those who knew "Seiji" before "Matoba", there have always been certain feline weaknesses. Maybe it's better if Broca doesn't know that's why he's getting the heavy petting, though.]
[Broca's eye opens, and Matoba grins when he notices. His earlier estimation was right. Smug. The bruising squeeze does little to deter it but earn another bubbling chuckle in his throat. He's content to keep sucking on Broca's tongue in his mouth for a little while as his hand warmly wraps over him to stroke in earnest, but when he feels the tautness of his cock fully primed, he instead leaves it hanging a moment for some self-care. He's not in this for charity.]
Here. [He murmurs, gripping Broca's wrist at his hip and urging it to curl the few inches inward, to slip inside of his bathrobe and take hold of him, and reaching to undo the knot at his waist to make it easier. The robe unfurls and leaves the front of his body exposed, easy to access, and openly aroused in return. The saving grace perhaps, of being a new arrival that had ventured into the closet for clothes.]
[Putting the man to work, Matoba leans in on the balls of his feet to press hips inward, grinding the top half of his cock in a slow motion against Broca's and leaving a sticky trail against him. He wraps his hand over them both this time and gives a slow squeeze, grinding the heads together in his palm. A slow breath escapes him as he does so, pleasure into Broca's mouth as his lips return to his with a slow kiss at first, and then a nibble at his bottom lip. Leading him back along into it slowly, but this time, he intends to stop playing with his food.]
[And restarting that timer, by the way, on purpose. But that's okay. They can take their time with this.]