#me in a gameshow vc: AAAND Rody is the winner of the “who will be the first to sin on this blog” competition!! how are you feeling champ?

[howthesleeplesswander]

“You like that, then? How it feels when I— Ah. Shhh. There’s no need to talk.”

After all, Rody’s face says it all, paired with the hiccups of whimpers bubbling through his lips, the way his breath hitches when Vincent gets him just right. He’s since pulled back from meticulous work on an exposed neck and down the curve of his shoulder, taken that moment to observe the heated blossoms in Rody’s cheeks, the twin coals of desire in his eyes. A satisfied purr rumbles in Vincent’s chest at the display, but he’s nowhere near done.

“Where is it the best?” He moves back in, tone low and guttural as he drags his teeth along the shell of his ear. “Here?” His lips fall lower, rediscovering a recently abused patch on Rody’s neck that he teases with a sharp bite. “Here?” Lower. Down to his shoulder, right there in that concave of his clavicle, Vincent takes some of that skin into his mouth and sucks generously. “Here . . . ?” He expels a weighted breath, and before his next suggestion, a wicked curve spreads across his lips.

“Or do I keep going lower?”

// vincent is impatient and needs to destroy a boy ♡ ～('▽^人)

Answered! || @sansgout

((oh don't worry, he already is B3c 🔥🔥))

Immediately, he'd been instructed not to touch.

Less than five minutes later, Rody already knew that, across all twenty-eight of his failed jobs, he'd never faced a task so difficult to succeed at.

His shirt had been cast off to a forgotten corner of the bedroom, but the cool caress of the sheets at his back was negated by the heat of Vincent's mouth on his skin. Every bite and suck pried out soft gasps and hiccuping sounds, but Rody hardly cared about his own noises.

He'd never heard Vincent sound like this before. His voice was low and rough; passionate, like he'd been yearning for this for ages. Like learning where Rody liked that torturous heat best—an impossible choice when every spot blew his mind all over again—was the most important thing in the world. But before Rody could even try to respond, Vincent paused just long enough to study him. Attentive. Hungry. Then he hummed like he was so pleased with what he saw, and Rody's brain crashed almost as spectacularly as when their mutual desires had first been made known.

When he finally rebooted, a longer sound seeped out: a pitiful attempt at finding his voice. Apparently his body was all too eager to be burned alive, for just the word "lower" from those lips made Rody's already-prominent flush follow them, spreading down to the newest bruise at his collar.

"Vince—" He couldn't help but squirm; it was all he could do to keep his hands obediently clenched in the sheets. "All of it," he murmured on a heavy breath, desire clouding his eyes. "I can't—can't choose. It all feels so good."