[What is the next step beyond being a puddle of goo, exactly? Alucard isn't sure, but his body seems to understand that the step exists and that it's where he ought to be. There's warmth and affection and a total lack of tension in him at every touch. That kiss. All of it.
A soft whimper of delight passes through Alucard's lips and against Trevor's when that finger pushes inward. He can't grind down, not truly, but the way Alucard's legs try to tangle up further with Trevor's? That's probably enough.]
You make me feel that way.
[He does. Alucard, undressed and exposed, is a collection of scars and marks from a decade of hard times. He can be pretty at a distance. But up close? Near him? He has a differeing opinion.]
no subject
A soft whimper of delight passes through Alucard's lips and against Trevor's when that finger pushes inward. He can't grind down, not truly, but the way Alucard's legs try to tangle up further with Trevor's? That's probably enough.]
You make me feel that way.
[He does. Alucard, undressed and exposed, is a collection of scars and marks from a decade of hard times. He can be pretty at a distance. But up close? Near him? He has a differeing opinion.]