[L doesn't object. Should Hector be more biding, it would give him all too much time to think, and formulate, and overcomplicate. Such things aren't compatible with the sort of encounter they've contrived; it should remain a series of simple pleasures, the sort that faun parties offer bountifully and L deprives himself of in equal measure.
Of course, it's too ridiculously difficult for the detective to keep anything at all simple, regardless of the amount of alcohol he's imbibed.
He grips Hector's horns more tightly. Arching back against the cushions, he presses up into the wet heat of the faun's mouth, which has taken him in wholly. Either a very impressive feat for Hector, or not so much of an impressive endowment for L, but either way, he hasn't felt this sensation since the days he was with the SQUIP, or glanced down to see an impish face past the sparse thicket of dark hair below his navel.
He groans, a low sound that's cautious, even now. Heaven forbid that someone should hear him enjoying himself too fully.]
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Of course, it's too ridiculously difficult for the detective to keep anything at all simple, regardless of the amount of alcohol he's imbibed.
He grips Hector's horns more tightly. Arching back against the cushions, he presses up into the wet heat of the faun's mouth, which has taken him in wholly. Either a very impressive feat for Hector, or not so much of an impressive endowment for L, but either way, he hasn't felt this sensation since the days he was with the SQUIP, or glanced down to see an impish face past the sparse thicket of dark hair below his navel.
He groans, a low sound that's cautious, even now. Heaven forbid that someone should hear him enjoying himself too fully.]