( Simple, and not nearly the end of the true explanation, but Esikko figures it's good enough considering what they're in the middle of. And though he's not the one who had any meat, and he's not the one incredibly worked up here, it's hard for him to do this with a complete sense of detachment. He leans in as he runs his fingers along the length of Bakugo's arousal, eyes tracing the way he reacts beneath his touch. It's exciting every time, he thinks, to be able to be in so much control over someone else's pleasure. And while a handjob is probably the bottom of the ladder in terms of impact or actual control, it still has him focused, still has him remembering himself so that he doesn't get too into this himself. )
Maybe if I'd had some of that meat myself, I wouldn't be so cold. I'm warming up, aren't I? Enough. ( He always runs cold, thanks to the nature of his corrupted blood, but he does warm up, and each stroke does make the difference less stark, less distracting. By the time he palms over the tip of Bakugo's dick before dragging back down into a faster next stroke, he's not so cold that it's uncomfortable.
But he is leaning rather close. )
I'm trying to make this at least a little nice, you know. You could tell me what feels good, instead of holding back like you are.
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( Simple, and not nearly the end of the true explanation, but Esikko figures it's good enough considering what they're in the middle of. And though he's not the one who had any meat, and he's not the one incredibly worked up here, it's hard for him to do this with a complete sense of detachment. He leans in as he runs his fingers along the length of Bakugo's arousal, eyes tracing the way he reacts beneath his touch. It's exciting every time, he thinks, to be able to be in so much control over someone else's pleasure. And while a handjob is probably the bottom of the ladder in terms of impact or actual control, it still has him focused, still has him remembering himself so that he doesn't get too into this himself. )
Maybe if I'd had some of that meat myself, I wouldn't be so cold. I'm warming up, aren't I? Enough. ( He always runs cold, thanks to the nature of his corrupted blood, but he does warm up, and each stroke does make the difference less stark, less distracting. By the time he palms over the tip of Bakugo's dick before dragging back down into a faster next stroke, he's not so cold that it's uncomfortable.
But he is leaning rather close. )
I'm trying to make this at least a little nice, you know. You could tell me what feels good, instead of holding back like you are.