( aventurine can't help but laugh; a broken, ragged laugh, because the irony of it all runs so deep that it's almost as though he's looking at a reflection of himself. he can hear his own voice say those exact words, behave that exact way. kirma flashes him his bare throat, and it takes everything in him not to lunge at it, bite down on flesh, maybe even rip it off his body. he could see the red of his blood clouding his vision, and aventurine would drink from it. when he remembers to be himself - as much of himself as he can be - and not a being controlled by primal, animalistic desires that feed on the instinct to prey or be preyed upon, is when he remembers to close his mouth, swallow down the saliva that threatened to spill from his mouth from drooling.
if nothing else, he's good at keeping his emotions in check. when he has so little control over so many aspects of his life, this, at the very least, he doesn't want to lose.
aventurine brings his lips down to kirma's throat, doesn't wholly trust himself not to rip it apart, but he manages kisses, at least, and when he bites down on it, he doesn't sink his teeth deep enough for anything past a mark. there's some composure to it all, though the same can't be quite said to his hands, that slither underneath his clothes and leave scratching marks in their wake. the more the merrier, his instincts tell him, aventurine is well aware nothing screams ownership more than a mark.
with a mind as clouded as his, he reaches for his pockets, pulling out a small vial. he leans down to take kirma's mouth again, a quicker, chaste kiss this time, before he shows it off to him. it's lube. i swear to god if kirma doesn't know what lube is. )
Prepare yourself to me. Do you think you can do it? ( it's a fake request, because he'd just teach kirma otherwise, ) I want to see you do it.
cw for casual mentions of gore lmao
if nothing else, he's good at keeping his emotions in check. when he has so little control over so many aspects of his life, this, at the very least, he doesn't want to lose.
aventurine brings his lips down to kirma's throat, doesn't wholly trust himself not to rip it apart, but he manages kisses, at least, and when he bites down on it, he doesn't sink his teeth deep enough for anything past a mark. there's some composure to it all, though the same can't be quite said to his hands, that slither underneath his clothes and leave scratching marks in their wake. the more the merrier, his instincts tell him, aventurine is well aware nothing screams ownership more than a mark.
with a mind as clouded as his, he reaches for his pockets, pulling out a small vial. he leans down to take kirma's mouth again, a quicker, chaste kiss this time, before he shows it off to him. it's lube. i swear to god if kirma doesn't know what lube is. )
Prepare yourself to me. Do you think you can do it? ( it's a fake request, because he'd just teach kirma otherwise, ) I want to see you do it.