[L's never actually been with a monster before this way. He's slept with Myr, of course, nestled chastely into flesh and fur, but this is an altogether different sort of encounter that demands a different way of thinking about the body beneath his. He's only ever thought about humans this way before, or at least human-bodied individuals since the SQUIP was technically a computer. There are enough similarities, though; fauns aren't dissimilar to humans, in the ways that seem to matter for bodies to pair in pleasure.
Habit's memory, more than anything, guide's his palm between them to knead against something he's actually shocked that he could inspire. Then again... while Hector might not be a computer or someone assigning him more glory than he could ever live up to, he's a faun, and fauns have a reputation for being horny. If L is surprised at the extent to which this seems to be true, it's perhaps because in the bed he shares with Myr, they do little else but sleep.
Who, then, is the exception to the rule, in all of this?
His arousal exists; it's only, perhaps, a bit confused. Balancing equations can be hard, just... not usually in this way. Tasting the liquor on both of their tongues as he slides his past Hector's lips, he tries to banish uncertainty and insecurity. With one wiling in his arms, he should be thinking about who wants him this way, and not those who aren't interested. He should be thinking about heat, and the cadence of senses and the building swell of appetite.
Perhaps, in fact, he should be doing less thinking in general.]
no subject
Habit's memory, more than anything, guide's his palm between them to knead against something he's actually shocked that he could inspire. Then again... while Hector might not be a computer or someone assigning him more glory than he could ever live up to, he's a faun, and fauns have a reputation for being horny. If L is surprised at the extent to which this seems to be true, it's perhaps because in the bed he shares with Myr, they do little else but sleep.
Who, then, is the exception to the rule, in all of this?
His arousal exists; it's only, perhaps, a bit confused. Balancing equations can be hard, just... not usually in this way. Tasting the liquor on both of their tongues as he slides his past Hector's lips, he tries to banish uncertainty and insecurity. With one wiling in his arms, he should be thinking about who wants him this way, and not those who aren't interested. He should be thinking about heat, and the cadence of senses and the building swell of appetite.
Perhaps, in fact, he should be doing less thinking in general.]