#hazel hotel

[hazelfoureyes]

hello babies! I’m honored to kick off Kinktober! This whole month we will be posting stories alternating between us 6. The culmination is the prompt Ducky Ball Gag, that all 6 of us will be posting a story for. That is 36 stories this month….!💖 below is the schedule for this first week. Be sure to follow my fellow coven lovins to have an October that’ll keep you sweating 💦 you’re welcome to use the hashtags as well and share your kinky stories 👀

Coven: @fraugwinska @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @macabr3-barbi3 @synamartia (banner by Syn!)

Kinktober 2024 - Day 1 - Ride

Alastor visits New York to hunt down Mimzy’s ex and takes a younger Angel Dust as his tour guide, despite Angel….. not being a tour guide. Angel decides nearly immediately he will fuck this fancy tourist. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

「warnings/promises: TopHumanAlastor x BottomHumanAngel, physical abuse mentioned and referenced through bruises, smut, Alastor gets into being called Daddy, Age Difference, prostitution, jerking off fingers in the cinema, lube needed prescriptions, condoms came in cans, oh murder is on the menu but not ordered, pretty cocks, creampie」

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

MDNI 🕷️ 🎥 📻

For Anthony, Alastor looked like a good ride. Clean cut, tall, built well (but nothing he couldn’t take in a fight if things got froggy), and nice clothes to boot.

He shoved the others out of his way to get to him first.

“Hey sugar, lookin‘ for a friend?” He beamed, proud pearly whites his best front facing indicator of his cleanliness. “Cuz I’m quite friendly.”

Alastor stiffened, the alarmingly youthful man sliding lithe fingers down his back. “You could say that! I was looking for a tour guide of sorts.”

He and Anthony briefly looked around at their surroundings— they were standing in front of a rather obvious hourly motel. Anthony was…. clearly not a tour guide. Was this strange man an idiot? He wasn’t above taking an idiot’s money but he drew the line at false advertisement.

“Oh.” Anthony’s tone fell flat, a tinge of disgust.

“I’d pay for your time.” Alastor offered, reading the other man’s expression with ease.

“Oh!” Sweet as honey and twice as thick, “Why didn’t ya lead with that! Sure!”

Alastor looked the young man up and down. He was dressed sharp, his shirt a little open for a man with the top two buttons undone to reveal pale and slick skin, slacks high and showing off his petite waist. Perfectly respectable enough.

“Whaddya wanna tour, daddy?” The pet name was said with a deeper voice then the the rest of the question, Anthony being sure to meet Alastor’s eyes when he said it.

Alastor extended his hand, glossing over the word entirely, “Where are my manners! Alastor.”

Anthony inspected his hand, turning it over before grabbing the left hand. No ring. He shook his hand back, “An-,” a cough, “Angel.”

“Angel?”

“Yeah, cuz I’ll make ya see heaven,” he winked. Alastor’s cackle hurt his feelings a tad. He nervously ran his fingers through his soft, blonde hair to self soothe.

“I just wanna see the city, Angel.” A pregnant pause, Alastor fidgeting a little with his vest, “How old are you exactly?”

Angel’s turn to laugh, but nearly immediately his face went flat and his bright eyes turned dark, “I have a baby face, but I’m of age. If you’re lookin’ for younger you’d bettah hop on a train back to whatever backwater hole you came from.” He tapped his foot, ready to turn and leave.

“Just a local guide, thank you!” A sigh of relief, “You’d be perfect.”

Sometimes customers claimed they just wanted a date, but this one seemed to actually want a tour guide. But money is money, so Angel hooked his arm into Alastor’s arm with renewed hospitality, “What’s your scene, fancy pants?”

“I’d like a drink, how about that first?” Alastor’s ever present smile beamed.

“Uhhh it won’t be the kinda places you’re used to.” He let his eyes drift down and back up the tall tourist with broadcasting judgement.

“Dear you don’t know the places I frequent. Do your worst.”

Angel felt a tingle down his spine, oh, he liked this one. “My worst? I know just the place.”

It took a head nod, a series of knocks to a tune Alastor didn’t recognize, and a secret phrase but finally he had a room temperature glass of illegally imported Irish whiskey in his hands.

“If you want a pick me up I can get you one of those too,” Angel watched him sip.

“Very generous but I’d rather keep my nose clean while in a new city.”

“Oh right! Are you visitin’ or can I expect to be seein’ yous around?” Angel’s fingers walked their way across the bar top to tap softly on Alastor’s left hand. The older man’s hand slid out from under his touch.

Alastor had left New Orleans for a reason, but not one he could tell others about. A certain person had been particularly cruel to his dear friend and bar owner, Mimzy. Alastor had made the extended weekend trip to give the man his opinion of such things.

“Just the weekend, I’m afraid,” he said it with a sing song voice void of any supposed fear, “I work in entertainment, so I’m hoping to find some new talent.”

Angel nodded, sounded like bullshit but he knew prying could make people switch up attitudes fast. His family taught him well enough to not ask too many questions. But then a lightbulb went off for him. The kind that overshadowed his smarter senses.

“Speakin’ of, you talk funny. You an actor or somethin’?” Angel asked, leaning on the bar with his body fully turned to Alastor.

“Radio show host.”

“Oooh fancy!” Angel smacked Alastor’s thigh, causing his newest client to jump. With a roll of his eyes, he whispered an apology and leaned his chin on his palm. His foot began to shake. Eyes flitting over to Alastor, who was motionless and grinning with unfocused eyes.

“You’re so quiet. Bor-ing.”

“Silence is a virtue.” Alastor’s ears were peeled for certain keywords. Hints for where to go next. Mimzy was tight lipped on where she’d worked before, but he knew the kind of places she enjoyed.

He wouldn’t call the trip a failure if he never found Chester. But it sure would be nice. His usual means of disposal were unavailable, but since he was so far from home and the city already quite busy with crime, he’d just roll ole boy into the water. It wasn’t like Chester’s associates didn’t usually rid each other of deadweight this way.

Angel chewed his bottom lip. This wasn’t necessarily better than fucking but he figured it was nice to have someone buying him the good hooch rather than stealing it from distracted bars and his uncle’s refreshment cart.

He inspected Alastor closer with a sharp side glance. His hair looked soft and fine, his skin washed and smooth. When he’d taken his hand he checked for dirt under his nails and didn't find a speck.

“You don’t look like you get a lot of hookers.” Angel twirled his finger in his glass and sucked the tip. Alastor choked a little, drink clanking loudly when he brought it down.

Angel watched him flounder, glasses slipping down his nose. Cute, he thought. When he smiled, his eyes wrinkled at the corners and Angel found it uncomfortably endearing.

“No, I don’t.” Alastor patted his chest. He thought Angel had been trying to get a rise out of him but instead the younger man was just toying with his drink, seemingly unamused and unbothered. If not for the smallest smile pulling his lips to the left he’d had assumed he imagined the comment.

Angel thought about the kinds of men and women he encountered. Often times, the most dangerous seemed to be the ones you didn’t expect. The gaunt bookish type always had some fetish for choking until you blacked out. The rich liked to make you scream in the worst ways.

“You’re not some weirdo like that guy in ‘The Most Dangerous Game’, are ya? Hunting people for sport.” He narrowed his eyes, waiting for a physical tell.

The apt comparison flew past Alastor as he was too thrilled with the other aspect of that question, “You watch thrillers?!”

“Oh do I, I’m a fan of anything that gets the blood pumpin’,” Angel winked at him.

“Do you actually watch these movies or are you just in the theater.” Alastor was suspicious, given Angel’s overall focus on sex.

“Well it started as just a nice and shady place for some hand stuff, but I started gettin’ really into ‘em. Pissed off the Johns so I started goin’ solo.”

Angel did enjoy the movies, but free time and disposable income could be scarce. Letting dates, of sorts, take him allowed the excuse he was working. Until the complaints started. His face and name were known by most in the neighborhood, so it wasn’t difficult for people to find a cousin or an uncle and vent about their poorly behaved slut of a family member. The missed screenings were worth the absence of bruises. It’s harder to work when you’re different shades of red and blue.

He didn’t understand how the small common interest made his new friend feel invigorated.

Alastor downed the last sips of his drink, “Alright! Let’s dance. Take me somewhere we can swing.”

“Finally! Thought ya hired me to bore me to death. A very slow hitman.”

With a quickly hidden panic, Alastor let the comment die and linked his arm with Angel’s.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

Angel was amazed at the sight; Alastor could dance.

“You aren’t as tightly buttoned up as I thought!” Angel’s hand was in Alastor’s as their bodies disconnected and spun away from each other. Meeting back again, hands to hands, their feet did all the work.

“You’re quite the dancer too, Angel.” Alastor leaned in, saying it loudly into the shell of the other man’s ear.

The blush it earned made him grin, he wasn’t trying to impress him but he did enjoy seeing the cocky man go quiet and pink.

“That’s a lovely color on you! I’ll have to keep making you blush.” Alastor whispered now, lips pressed to Angel’s skin not to entice but to ensure he was heard.

What’s life without a little teasing? And the younger man had been so talkative and assertive. Nothing gave Alastor quite the same thrill as making people act unlike themselves. Inspiring a meek woman to be brazen; a cocky man to shy away; a loud person to go silent.

Self betrayal. Influencing that in the people around him was his second favorite hobby. Maybe tied with dancing.

“Do you go out to dance often?” He asked, now peeled off of Angel. Angel shook his head. “But I thought you liked making your heart race?” He smirked.

Alastor was equal in size to Angel, but the blonde felt slight in the other man’s hold. There was a magnetism rolling off of Alastor’s body. Something in the way he spoke and moved made Angel want to please him. To get his approval. To make him waver that well coiffed image.

While Angel plotted how to do that, he kept his eyes glued to Alastor’s own, unable to break away. He knew his usual charms (grabbing his dick and pulling him into the bathroom) wouldn’t work, but an opportunity would surely present itself.

“You seem the kind of man who knows how beautiful he is. Odd, given you don’t seem arrogant about it.” Alastor was reading Angel with skills honed over decades of moving amongst others in secret. Commentary he usually kept to himself given freely as he wanted to understand the man more, “Who is making you think otherwise? You should be arrogant.”

Deep blue eyes looked to the left, escaping Alastor’s own now that the topic made their gaze too intimate, “Whaddya mean? I know I’m a dish! No one is sayin’ otherwise.”

Alastor observed the way his tour guide’s shoulders drew up and in, making himself physically retreat from the subject. He advanced.

“I said beautiful. Not some dish. And I didn’t mention anything about words bringing you down.”

A roll of his eyes, “You sure are talkin’ a lot now, I’m beginning to see the radio skills. Tell me then, Alastor, what actions are you prepared to do to confirm my beauty?”

A loud laugh, Alastor feeling cornered in the most exciting way. The only music was from a radio playing weakly on a table on a rather useless looking bar, but Alastor swung Angel around with the same energy he did for the live bands in New Orleans. It was silly, Angel thought, how quickly he forgot where he was.

He was, for the record, at the only place he knew was open and allowed dance. One he knew too well.

“Hey Anthony!” The man behind the dark wooden counter bellowed much louder than necessary. Alastor could feel Angel recoil in his arms, the dancing coming to an abrupt end. In truth, they’d been dancing for quite a few songs already. It felt cut short anyway, as they could have gone on for much longer. No one else was dancing, he noted, though the bar only had a couple other patrons.

“I’m workin’,” his hands slipped from their place in Alastor’s with a palpable reluctance before striding to the bar. Alastor followed shortly behind, not drunk enough to cut a rug alone in a strange place. The music wasn’t even that good if he was honest. In fact, every foot Angel grew further from the dance floor, the less appealing the beat became.

“Oh sorry, Angel,” the short man said it with an overt sarcasm that made it clear how he felt about Angel. Alastor found it quite grating. “Uncle wants to talk. Go upstairs for a sec.”

“I’m busy right now.” Hissed as he leaned over the bar too far, body stretching with a leg kicking up. Alastor admired the line from nape to ankle. He wondered what kind of life Angel could have as a dancer.

“Oh ya know what, that’s funny you mention it cuz,” the bartender smacked Angel’s head with his hand, “I wasn’t fucking asking.” Angel winced, excusing himself to Alastor and disappeared behind a door. The unnecessarily mean man sniffled, swallowing whatever he managed to inhale, and said, “You look like a bitch.” He pointed at Alastor with a short and blunt finger.

Alastor’s head shook slightly with the surprise of the statement. His smile was sharp and drawn in, failing to suppress a chuckle. He made a point of straightening his back and looking the man up and down. Red face, an alcoholic’s nose, little grubby hands, and cauliflower ears. Had the barkeep been kinder, Alastor could label the details as charming. But given the frame of cruelty they were in, they made his lip curl up in disgust. Looking down his nose at the man, he hummed.

“Ya know, it’s funny you mention that,” he parroted, “I was just thinking the same thing about you!” Alastor said it with measured pacing but quickly leaned away from the bar in time to dodge the unsavory barkeep’s hand smacking at his head.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

“Where did Dom go?” Angel seemed to bounce out the front door, looking back with worry. Alastor thought it was terribly misplaced.

“In the bathroom! Poor man slipped and his hit head.” Alastor wiped the grubby little finger smudges off of his glasses with his handkerchief, “Let’s just walk for a bit. The bars are a bust at this time of day.”

Angel’s brow rose at the statement, what did it matter if the bars were empty? Hell, a busy place was more likely to get raided than an empty one. He let the door close and rejoined Alastor’s side. Reaching over, he smoothed a few of the other man’s hairs back in place. His fingers continued down the back of Alastor’s ears and to the nape of his neck.

“Your hair is so short in the back.” He raked his nails in the prickly hairs.

“And yours is quite long in the front.” The back of Alastor’s hand pushed the blonde hair from Angel’s eyes. It was quite easy to look Angel in the eyes, as he was nearly the same height. He took a step back and offered his arm, “Shall we?”

A prideful chill, seeing that pink blush spreading across the milky white of Angel’s cheeks. Angel knew it was just pleasantries but he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to the gesture. Touching his hair so tenderly, willing to link arms together. He knew he’d get it bad if someone saw and told on him, but he’d let tomorrow’s Anthony deal with that. Today’s Angel was enjoying himself too thoroughly.

They walked in silence, not out of boredom or awkwardness, but a misplaced familiarity. Well, seemingly misplaced. Neither man knew how much they shared in common. How they both came from broken homes, for one. Nor that they both had killed men before with their hands and tools alike.

When Alastor stopped just outside a theater and looked to Angel expectedly, the New York native took his arm back.

“Really? I’m not doin’ hand stuff.” Angel pointed sharply at Alastor, an oddly effective show of control.

“I really don’t want you to.” Alastor opened the door for Angel, “After you.”

Settled into their seats, Angel was vibrating with excitement. He didn’t often have time for movies and nearly never did he have company. Actual company. Alastor saw the fidgeting and smirked, the unhidden joy was something he could admire.

“I wanna be an actor someday. Be a star. Doesn’t that sound grande? Everyone knows your name and face?” Angel leaned dreamily into Alastor’s left shoulder.

Alastor couldn’t imagine something worse, that’d be a sign he royally fucked up.

He chuckled to himself, realizing he was a semi public figure whose voice and name was quite well known. So, actually, it was quite grande. Angel asked him what was funny but he just shook his head.

Angel’s eyes lingered on him. The screen light was bouncing off his date’s glasses. He looked so nice. Like the kind of guy who cleans off your seat before you sit and always tops up your glass. The kind of guy who wipes off your back after he cums on you and then draws a bath.

He decided he’d make it his goal to cause Alastor to fold, to be as love drunk as all the others he set his sights on. Why not? He seemed well off enough, maybe Angel could get a sugar daddy. Someone to take him to movies and spin him around dance floors.

His hand came to rest on Alastor’s forearm on the arm rest, and when Alastor asked him if he needed the space he shook his head no. They watched the thriller in silence, Angel’s hand drawing little lines and circles onto the top of the radio host’s arm.

When the movie was over, they stayed behind a little. Angel sliding his hand down Alastor's arm and blanketing the much larger hand.

“So this is what would happen.” Angel gripped two of Alastor’s slender fingers, “During excitin’ moments,” he made a fist around the digits and began short but fast jerking motions, “my hand would slow.” He mimicked the story with his mock handjob. “And when something shockin’ happened, I’d squeeze em waaay too tight.” He gripped Alastor’s fingers.

The action made the older man bite his lip, he wasn’t normally cognizant of sexual needs but Angel’s eyes never left his as he tightened and pumped his digits. He’d be lying to say his heart didn’t quicken a little.

“So, I had to stop bringin’ guys here.” Angel released his fingers. He watched with sharp eyes as Alastor stood and adjusted his pants slightly before offering a hand to him.

As they walked out and into the soft glow of dusk, Alastor asked if he disliked his job.

“Seems very impersonal.” He added.

Angel hooted “I love my work! Honestly the sex is the best part. I can’t stand that slow lovey shit. I need a good hard fuckin’ to get off. Plus, I like the variety.”’ His eyes brows danced up and down. The topic made Alastor grimace, he didn’t like the mental image of Angel receiving a variety of men.

“Do you ever find … more with your clients?” Alastor was curious, genuinely. Angel was younger than him, mid-20s it seemed, but he didn’t seem interested in anything deeper than sex. Surely by this age he was hoping to find meaningful companionship?

Angel kicked a rock, “Nah. I’m not opposed. But most men, they’re not exactly advertisin’ their love of cock.”

“Not like you.”

“Exactly! I’m not gonna be some guy’s dirty secret he rage fucks when his wife nags him too hard about … I don’t fuckin’ know. Money. Dirty clothes. Small apartments.” His hands were animated, moving around themselves to jazz up the point. Alastor nodded. It made sense to him. He didn’t want to subject someone to being a placeholder for society’s expectations of him. Alastor didn’t want to be the kind of person Angel didn’t want to be kept by. A man living a lie for the sake of pleasing the world around him, that fictional closeted man in Angel’s example, he could understand him well. And he didn’t want to become him. He hummed to himself low and quiet, taken aback by the compatibility he hadn't anticipated when he approached the group of men and women loitering in front of the shady motel. The non-response made Angel feel he’d been too open. He needed to close that vulnerable topic. “Sooo, did you want to go anywhere else or what?”

It was getting late, meaning Alastor’s chances were even better of finding some clues that could lead to his target.

“If you have the time…,” Alastor trailed off. Angel nodded in approval but stopped walking. He stopped too and looked back at his guide. Angel’s shirt seemed to have been unbuttoned another button, and his hand on his hip accentuated his shape. The mental image returned, but it wasn’t variety he saw now pressing Angel into a soft surface.

Something about the conversation, the realization they both were just trying to live their lives freely and as openly as they could without prosecution, made Alastor want to explore the other man more. Inside and out.

“Ya know you’re rackin’ up a pretty bill here. How’s about we stop at mine, you pay up for the day, and I can get ready to go out properly?” The sly smile made Alastor’s heart skip a beat, but it was the blatant challenge in Angel’s eyes that made his cock twitch. Angel barely said anything suggestive at all, but the way he seemingly dared Alastor to say no to the invitation was plainly a tell.

Had Angel asked him a couple hours earlier, he’d had handed him the cash and left. But, now? Well…

Alastor’s hands settled into his pockets and he leaned back on his heels, “Sounds grande. Lead the way.”

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

“Take a load off, I’m gonna freshen up.” Angel slunk off into the bathroom as soon as the door was shut.

Alastor roamed the small one room apartment. A curved bar hung in the corner, a couple shirts and two trousers on hangers there. He felt the material between his fingers; expensive. Out of place in the space. Clearly he prioritized his image over his comfort. Alastor could feel a draft coming from the closed window, and the floor was warped.

He looked over the dresser, small make-up items neatly set in front of the mirror. Powder foundation and cream concealer. A faint lip tint. Alastor sat on the bed — it made a loud squeak as several springs whined under his weight. Leaning down he spotted a box and pulled it out. Heavy. Inside was a pistol, several photos, a small tin of condoms, and a silver money clip of bills. He closed it and slid it back.

The door creaked open and Alastor looked over his shoulder. Angel was in a black robe patterned with pink roses— a woman’s robe, it seemed. He knelt on the small bed and slide his long arms down Alastor’s torso from behind. Resting his head on his shoulder and pressing his chest into Alastor’s back, he undid the top button of his suit jacket.

“I want you to pay me now.” Angel’s tone was husky and, Alastor was sure he was misinterpreting this but, provocative. When Alastor tried to get up Angel’s strong arms pulled him back down. Chuckling, the now nervously excited Alastor raised his hips and fished out his cash.

“I never did ask how much.” Alastor realized.

Angel hummed, “How much ya got?”

A breathy laugh, Alastor pulling out a Jackson. Angel whined. Alastor unfolded another. Angel whined longer in a higher pitch. When he pulled out a third bill Angel pressed a kiss to his cheek and took the cash. Lying on his stomach he slid out the box, set the money within, and closed it.

“Now that that’s done.” Angel grabbed Alastor by the shoulders again and pulled him down, his strength startling. Alastor let himself be maneuvered, Angel putting his legs up and pushing his back into the pillows barely cushioning his spine from the metal headboard. Alastor didn’t say anything, just watched curiously at where this was going.

When Angel straddled him a smile pulled at his mouth. “What’s this, Angel?”

The robe opened, Alastor seeing Angel was entirely nude, a soft shine on his thighs catching the dirty yellow light of the room’s singular hanging bulb. His eyes drifted down a shaved and pale chest, a flat and toneless stomach, and a mess of bright blonde curls above a very pink and half hard cock.

“I prepared in the bathroom. And,” Angel leaned over and grabbed a small bottle, “I’m going to prepare you now, too.”

Alastor opened his mouth but Angel kept talking, “I know a guy, in case you were wonderin’. Doctor who will give anyone a lubricant prescription for enough money. Crisco is so hard to wash off…”

Angel didn’t see Alastor smirking or nodding, his hands busy undoing the other man’s buckle and pants. He found no resistance, Alastor letting him tug off his clothing until he was naked from the waist down. “Be a doll and take off your shirt and shit.” Angel poured the lubricant onto Alastor’s still very limp dick and began pumping. Alastor did as he was told, shrugging off his suit jacket and vest, then undoing his shirt and letting them all lie half behind him and half around him.

As Angel felt Alastor grow heavy in his palm and watched him become larger and longer, his mouth began to water. It was an attractive cock, two toned tan and pink. Not something he often saw. Little fantasies of choking on that length danced in his head. He nestled himself into the tan thighs and inspected Alastor for any signs of disease.

Not a blemish in sight, no growths or warts. He was clean, and Angel dared think he was even quite pretty to look at. As his foreskin drew back and his head was made bare, Angel decided to take him into his mouth. He hadn’t planned on it, but it seemed so enticing. He had to know, did he taste as sweet as he acted?

Alastor hissed, not in displeasure but from sensitivity. No one had sucked his dick in ages. He wasn’t a huge fan, but he liked watching Angel do it. His cheeks were flush, that complimentary color back. It made the light corn yellow of his hair seem to pop even brighter.

The weight of him on Angel’s tongue grew and Angel revelled in the reaction. Something about it made him feel powerful. His goal was coming to fruition.

“Glad to see you could get it up!” He teased, mood becoming light when Alastor tasted vaguely of soap.

“I’m only 40, Angel.”

“Meh sounds old. I’ll be long dead before then.” He began running his fingers along the impressive length. The other man wanted to argue how sad it was to think he’d be dead in what…a dozen odd years? But Angel moved on too quickly. “You’re packin’ more than I thought. This might actually be fun.”

Angel climbed onto Alastor and began lining him up. He was impatient now, hard and leaking from the little bit of Alastor he had in his mouth. “Don’t worry, I’m clean — and don’t let ‘em finish in me. My work rule. Condoms and all that.”

When Alastor’s slit was swiped over the lubed but still puckered entrance, Alastor clenched his eyes in response. He wasn’t sure how he’d started the day looking for someone to kill and ended up here, cock in the hands of a pretty man being rubbed along as his asshole. When Angel began the push, Alastor sat up reflexively. He felt blunt, and like the hole he was being squeezed into was not able to take him.

Angel knew better, and bit his lip in preparation for the initial pain. He hadn’t used enough fingers when he was frantically trying to get himself ready. But Angel was nothing if not ambitious. He held his breath and let his weight drop a few inches. Alastor’s hands shot to his slender hips to still him, the little cry Angel made worrying him that he’d hurt the man.

Or, that Angel had hurt himself.

Eyes wide and panicked, he felt himself go a little soft despite how tight he was being gripped. His cockhead was forced in, Angel’s hole quick to try and close again as soon as Alastor’s glands were past the rim. Using his hand to hold Alastor firm, Angel managed to fit the rest of him in.

When his balls came to rest on the curly hair above Alastor’s cock, he took a moment to breathe. Alastor hadn’t regained his erection fully, so when Angel lifted up his prize nearly folded out.

It happened sometimes– sometimes men just got caught up in the minute details of anal sex and got soft, is what Angel told himself as he tried to grind against the heated lap and bring Alastor back to life in him.

It felt good for him, soft or not the movement of his hips made himself jump with flickers of pleasure. Surely, Alastor would be hard again soon.

But when he looked up to Alastor, expecting to see a pleasured expression, he saw the man looked nearly confused. Face to face, suddenly he felt embarrassed. He felt naked and foolish.

Clearly, Alastor wasn’t into him.

Obviously, he’d made a mistake.

“What’s wrong with ya? You’re not— fuck, I get it.” Angel hurried off of him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Alastor froze, unsure what had happened. Had he hurt him, after all? Or was he angry he became soft? Alastor sat up and leaned forward, moving that well tended to hair from his almost-lover’s face. “Just go. You’ve made a joke of me enough already.”

“Where’s the joke? Am I laughing?” Alastor asked softly, smile impossible to banish.

Angel grabbed his robe and bunched it into his hands, burying his face there. “If you don’t wanna fuck me then that’s fine,’I’m not some creep whose gonna make ya!” Alastor looked at him and couldn’t help but think he was quite cute when he was overreacting.

“Well you were fucking me, I think. Though, I’m not the professional here.” His hand came to rest on Angel’s shoulder. Alastor wasn’t sure where else was appropriate to touch.

Angel turned his head and gave him a sharp look. A little chill came to Alastor, it was a glare that could cut and he found that uniquely arousing.

“Would you like to try again? Come here.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat beside Angel, patting his thighs, “Facing me.” Angel’s eyes looked from cock to face, then back. His pout made Alastor melt a little. Such a cute face on such a dirty boy. He took Angel’s hand and set it on his lap, “Do it like you did with the men in the movies who got mad.”

A flame flared back up in Angel’s stomach. He wrapped his fingers around the small and pliable cock and started slow and gentle, before squeezing him tighter at the base. Alastor leaned back on his palms, letting his eyes close and focus on the sensations and less on the odd situation he was in. Not that he was complaining, it was a stress relief he hadn’t turned to in ages. He felt that build up of heat in his crotch, pleasure lighting up the darkness of his closed eyes. Opening them again, he patted Angel on the hip and urged him back onto him.

“Could you help me-?” He asked, focused on trying to catch his now swollen head on the slick entrance but knowing he wasn’t sure exactly where to press in.

“Do you have much experience with men?” Angel lifted up and guided Alastor back into him. His hole was still softened, Alastor hard enough to be pushed in easily. A small pleasured sigh tumbled out as he was filled again.

Alastor hissed, still sensitive slit raking over Angel’s heated flesh from the inside. He shook his head no.

“None?” Angel sank down slowly.

“Does this count?” Alastor’s eyes were transfixed onto where he was disappearing into Angel. Rarely did he take interest in the mechanics of sex, but seeing his thick member be taken into the small frame was making his head spin.

“No,” when Angel laughed, Alastor tensed. The shaking of the chuckle reaching his core.

Fully in and feeling Angel’s heartbeat around his most sensitive area, Alaster grabbed his waist with both hands and began to roll his hips up into Angel. Not thrusting yet, he wasn’t sure how long he could last if he did.

A loud, sudden moan tore through Angel’s lips, breath rocking Alastor’s tousled hair. The sound was nice. The radio host kissed at his escort’s cheeks, feeling the warmth of his blush now against his lips. It tasted even better than it looked. His mouth moved to the side to pepper his hairline with quick pecks. It was sweet, nearly too much so for Angel. He leaned back with one hand on Alastor’s knee and changed the angle. When he found the spot he needed, he began to bounce on the stiff cock buried so deeply in him.

He hit his g-spot, moaning louder with each swipe. His head fell back, every breath now carrying another wispy moan into the otherwise silent room.

And then it happened. Alastor groaned, the feeling of his cockhead rubbing against puffy and slick walls compounded with the vision of Angel crying while he rode him made him lose his control. The sound made Angel shudder, now with both hands on Alastor’s legs he picked up his pace. He needed to hear it. He wanted more of Alastor’s noises for him.

When he hit his spot again, harder than before, his body shook and once deep moans now became high pitch and short screams. That thick cock twitched forward in his guts somewhere imprecise, making his knees draw in between their chests, feet planted on the bed.

“Does– fuck, it look like I’m mocking you,” Alastor moaned mid sentence, needing a few breaths to regain his composure, “now?”

Angel could only shake his head, focusing on his tempo.

Alastor was losing his breath. His hands took over the rhythm, pulling Angel down and toward him harder and faster as he felt his balls drawing up and near. Angel felt like hot, tight silk gliding over his cock. When he buried his head into the crook of his neck he found his skin the same — soft and luxurious to the touch. He moaned into his neck, “I’m going to finish; where?”

Angel’s arms wrapped around Alastor’s head, drawing his forehead in to rest on his, “Finish in me.”

“I thought you said that’s against your work rules. You don’t let them-.” Alastor’s eyes wandered over Angel’s shining blue irises before kissing him on the mouth. The sentence wasn’t worth finishing.

Angel returned the kiss, pulling apart to gasp out a reply. “I’m not working right now,” rushed into Alastor’s sweat covered cheek, “I was just a tour guide you already paid, remember?”

Alastor wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t control his body anymore. His lips reclaimed Angel’s and he used his often overlooked strength to fuck up into the tight, melting pleasure until his hips stuttered. His climax weakened his muscles in his thighs and stomach, only allowing another three deep thrusts as he came into the other man. Angel broke the kiss to moan Alastor’s name, the feeling of powerful and overflowing spurts of his seed filling him up. He felt warm inside and out.

After a few calming breaths, but before Angel could dismount, Alastor began stroking his still hard and leaking cock.

“What— ah, your hands are so soft.” His head fell onto Alastor’s shoulder.

He rocked his hips again, despite Alastor softening already. But as Alastor’s fingers slid over his head and spread his precum down his shaft, he started to ride again in earnest. Repositioning so his knees were on either side of Alastor’s thighs, he started fucking himself like Alastor was his newest toy. Head lolling to the side he let his mouth run, “Oh, fuck yes, daddy.”

Angel felt another twitch as Alastor hardened again in him.

“Oooh, you dirty old man!” Faster, his face smug but breaking into a pleasured slack jawed mess with each heavy hit, “Come on daddy, fuck me. Pound into me until I cum on your cock.”

“Anthony.” Alastor’s attempt at chiding was betrayed by his erection, now fully formed again and stretching Angel’s hole. He reached his lips to Angel’s, “You talk too much.”

“Then shut me up, daddy.” Their teeth hit with the clumsy, impassioned kiss. Alastor couldn’t figure out why exactly the nickname was getting him so worked up. He wasn’t a father and sure as shit didn’t think highly of them. But when Angel moaned it like it was some high praise, a singular position above him that granted him some kind of power, his heart quickened.

His hand began to stoke faster, hips thrusting up as Angel rolled his own hips forward with every meeting of skin. “Fuck me like a slut, Alastor.” Alastor could feel the carefully shaved and lotioned body tensing against him , “Use me. Be rougher.” It wasn’t a request, and Alastor loved that tone on Angel.

He fisted a handful of his hair and pulled back his neck, that hair in grip just as silken as the rest of him. Angel himself very much like the elusive fabric, his wit allowing him to glide effortlessly along Alastor’s own intellectual way of speaking and charm letting him slip through Alastor’s many attempts to know him on a deeper level.

Angel wanted something harder, and though it was out of the celibate’s wheelhouse he tried to meet expectations. Head dipped down, he let spit drip onto his pistoning hand, “You get off on being a cock sleeve, Anthony?” Watching the prim Alastor lube his cock with spit was so out of character Angel’s eyes rolled close, hole clenching tighter. “Daddy’s little slut?” Angel whimpered and nodded enthusiastically as best he could.

A moment to inspect the younger man’s face, Alastor wondering if he’d ever again see such a sight. Angel’s pristine chest and shoulders heaving, sweat sliding down his enticing neck, and mouth hanging open as he choked out his name.

“Come undone for daddy.”

A broken and strained, “Fuck!”, Angel pushing Alastor down onto the bed and riding him through the final thrusts he needed to cum. He bottomed out, knees coming to touch over Alastor’s modestly toned stomach.

His spend spilled over Alastor’s knuckles and stomach weakly, small cock twitching pitifully as it ran dry.

Leaning up on his elbows, Alastor inspected his hand. Messy. Angel patted his chest twice and dismounted, promising a speedy towel.

“Did I do that?” Alastor’s voice was quick and seemed to briefly lose its trans-atlantic pitch. There was a dark bruise on Angel’s ribs, nearly to his back, that he hadn’t seen before until the young man turned around. He gently traced his fingers along the edge and found his fingertips painted with a soft pinkish white powder.

“Oh no, ha.” Angel pulled away, slipping on his robe. When he turned back to offer the hand towel, he saw the upset worry painting Alastor’s usually smiling face. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not some freak. I like it rough, not abusive. Just a family issue.” Eyebrows to his hairline, smile noticeably flatter, Alastor was unconvinced. “My family’s a real… uhh, tight knit one. Lots of rules and all that jazz.” Angel added.

“And this? Also… familial?” Alastor wiped away the make-up hiding a discolored wrist. Now that he knew what to look for, he was finding suspicious patches across Angel’s body.

“Ugh, that tone. Like ya pity me. Like —like, ya think I’m some victim.” He snatched the towel back and began wiping Alastor’s stomach. “This is just how things are, alright? Ya fuck up and you gotta learn to — to stop makin’ everything harder for evergone else.”

“I don’t pity you. Nothing about you is pitiful. I’m just surprised. You seem like the retaliatory type.” Alastor reached to take the towel back but was denied.

“You got that right. But no one hits back against my cousin. It’s best to just keep your head down.”

“And is that what you do? Keep your head down?” The insinuation wasn’t lost on Angel, who scowled while taking the other man’s hand and cleaning it finger by finger.

“Angel?” Alastor asked, naked and still being glared down at.

“What.” Angel set his hand down and walked to the bathroom. Alastor lied back down and let his head hang over the side of the bed, watching an upside down Angel saunter by. A vantage point he didn’t mind, eyes level with a very pert and now pink ass. Thanks to Alastor’s thighs.

“One last tour stop, before we enjoy a proper night out. If you have the time.” Angel leaned back so he could see Alastor’s face and nodded, waiting for more. “To a telegram office.” Alastor would need to let work know he’d be gone a little while longer.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby