[there's a pause, where dan feng processes the question, and how dan heng had taken the situation into his own hands?]
You contemptuous wretch-
[this would be more effective if dan feng didn't sound so throaty, or if his hands weren't trailing down dan heng's flank, thumbs digging into the sharp jut of his hipbones.
he tastes like dan feng can't get enough.] ... was that flirting?
[warbled, a little desperate. dan feng's back arches when their tails twine; it was comforting to his touch-starved self when not in the context of arousal, but here it made all the blood in his head rush downwards. what the hell.
a hand suddenly digs fingers into the base of dan heng's tail, where the furred mane starts.]
[taking this opportunity to try and roll them over! it's debatable if he succeeds, because he's still dizzy and uncoordinated, not to mention really fucking turned on, because dan heng smells incredible.]
[dan heng... allows this. probably unwisely, he knows, but he is not immune to wanting the weight of his partner pressing him down. he curls fingers in dan feng's belt loops as if to keep him from using the leverage to escape.]
[he manages to knock over a nearby bar stool as he tries to right himself, and dan feng mostly (?) succeeds, ending up with their legs slotted together like puzzle pieces. he can't help the buck of his hips, rutting against dan heng's thigh, pressed against him in one long line of heat.]
Really? Here? Dis- hah - gusting- [like he's not the one, you know, practically jumping his leg.]
[Dan Heng is right, which annoys the living daylights out of him. He rucks up Dan Heng's top with cold, clumsy fingers, petting along the curve of his abs.]
[clearly he knows what's happening, though, considering how he slides his hand into dan heng's pants as soon as his fly is open, grinding a palm into between his legs, almost desperately.]
You aren't subtle about wanting me, and unfortunately I appear to be- nnhah-
[that's rougher and more abrupt and better than he expected, dragging a moan out of him and making his whole body curve lower, more into dan feng's space.]
Dan Feng bluescreens for about two seconds. And then he snarls, moving to catch Dan Heng by the waist and stand up, with a single-minded goal: to bend Dan Heng over the billiards table and fuck the living daylights out of him.]
[dan heng lets his predecessor up, allows himself to be manhandled, because it's dan feng doing something. still shooting him a breathlessly aroused glare over his shoulder as he's bent over the table, though.]
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he's the one who breaks the kiss first, though, head lolling a little bit to the side.]
What...?
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How do I taste?
headed to .. nsfw .. . town
You contemptuous wretch-
[this would be more effective if dan feng didn't sound so throaty, or if his hands weren't trailing down dan heng's flank, thumbs digging into the sharp jut of his hipbones.
he tastes like dan feng can't get enough.] ... was that flirting?
very much on that nsfw journey yes
...Yes.
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[warbled, a little desperate. dan feng's back arches when their tails twine; it was comforting to his touch-starved self when not in the context of arousal, but here it made all the blood in his head rush downwards. what the hell.
a hand suddenly digs fingers into the base of dan heng's tail, where the furred mane starts.]
I want you, I want to destroy you-
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[cutting off from the inevitably filthy thing he was saying to groan with great feeling, spine arching when dan feng digs his fingers in just so.]
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Really? Here? Dis- hah - gusting- [like he's not the one, you know, practically jumping his leg.]
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[he rocks up against him, full-bodied, rutting against dan feng's thigh in turn.]
It's not stopping you.
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Does he know you're here?
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Yes.
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Does he know you can't keep your legs closed?
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That's not what this is!
But he knows why I'm here.
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wait.]
Did you tell him you were... that we were... [he opens his mouth. closes it.] That we. Were. Going to.
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[bracing himself steadily and reaching down to undo his pants himself, slowpoke.]
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What is this, then?
[clearly he knows what's happening, though, considering how he slides his hand into dan heng's pants as soon as his fly is open, grinding a palm into between his legs, almost desperately.]
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[that's rougher and more abrupt and better than he expected, dragging a moan out of him and making his whole body curve lower, more into dan feng's space.]
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Oh? Is my cute little successor negging back?
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Dan Feng.
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Dan Feng bluescreens for about two seconds. And then he snarls, moving to catch Dan Heng by the waist and stand up, with a single-minded goal: to bend Dan Heng over the billiards table and fuck the living daylights out of him.]
You wanton whore.
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You're going to pay me? How cute.
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