( his gaze narrows, a pinprick on bakugou's expression, and this time he feels like he has the space to be smug-- )
Of course it's in. ( he says, and there's that hint of amusement in his voice, a little warmer than it should be; still, just to be sure, his eyes fall down across bakugou's chest, dipping between his legs, and it's about there, where his gaze centers in on the bulbous head of the stupid vibrator, clamped inside bakugou's hole, that he feels that knee brushing, too close, a pressure that pinches up and pins his balls between his own body and bakugou's knee--
his thighs tense, immediately on edge, because the last time he had a knee between his legs: well, it hadn't ended the way he'd thought it would, and no one ever gets over that painful feeling, like having the wind kicked out of aching lungs. as if in retaliation, he pushes further, and bakugou's rim stretches around the width of the vibrator, ushering more of it inside. it's a squelching sort of sound, the silicone spread with sticky lubricant, pressed in, and his lips purse, a hollowed breath as he drags it out again, just to the tip, to push it in again. barely gets any further, but he's making a little progress--his head tilts, a glance to bakugou's cock, and back between his legs again, bemused.
he's going to get kicked in the head for this one, but-- )
You like it. ( matter-of-fact; his hand presses in again, a gentle pressure at the back of the toy, urging it in even further--then it's back again, forward again, slowly wriggling and stretching bakugou around it in interest. ) You like it a lot.
( a lidded gaze, brushed over bakugou's features, like he's content with it--like at least, if nothing else, he's doing something that bakugou enjoys, and it's oddly pleasurable, seeing bakugou enjoy it, watching his lips tortured between his teeth, the heat in his cheeks, the hazy glare of his gaze and the tightening of his cock, smearing precum in a sticky puddle at his stomach; he can't deny that he likes it, either, that just watching someone experience this kind of pleasure makes him harder than he thought he would be, something of an embarrassment.
with another soft breath, he tilts his head to watch bakugou again, questioning: )
no subject
Of course it's in. ( he says, and there's that hint of amusement in his voice, a little warmer than it should be; still, just to be sure, his eyes fall down across bakugou's chest, dipping between his legs, and it's about there, where his gaze centers in on the bulbous head of the stupid vibrator, clamped inside bakugou's hole, that he feels that knee brushing, too close, a pressure that pinches up and pins his balls between his own body and bakugou's knee--
his thighs tense, immediately on edge, because the last time he had a knee between his legs: well, it hadn't ended the way he'd thought it would, and no one ever gets over that painful feeling, like having the wind kicked out of aching lungs. as if in retaliation, he pushes further, and bakugou's rim stretches around the width of the vibrator, ushering more of it inside. it's a squelching sort of sound, the silicone spread with sticky lubricant, pressed in, and his lips purse, a hollowed breath as he drags it out again, just to the tip, to push it in again. barely gets any further, but he's making a little progress--his head tilts, a glance to bakugou's cock, and back between his legs again, bemused.
he's going to get kicked in the head for this one, but-- )
You like it. ( matter-of-fact; his hand presses in again, a gentle pressure at the back of the toy, urging it in even further--then it's back again, forward again, slowly wriggling and stretching bakugou around it in interest. ) You like it a lot.
( a lidded gaze, brushed over bakugou's features, like he's content with it--like at least, if nothing else, he's doing something that bakugou enjoys, and it's oddly pleasurable, seeing bakugou enjoy it, watching his lips tortured between his teeth, the heat in his cheeks, the hazy glare of his gaze and the tightening of his cock, smearing precum in a sticky puddle at his stomach; he can't deny that he likes it, either, that just watching someone experience this kind of pleasure makes him harder than he thought he would be, something of an embarrassment.
with another soft breath, he tilts his head to watch bakugou again, questioning: )
You think you can handle it if I turn it on?