[Like a devout parishioner indeed, yes, with the flickering gold of the cross pressed just underneath those needy lips. The sort of believer who would accept any debasement without hesitation if it still meant salvation at the very end. Shaped in lust as it might be, base and sinful as it might be...yet still, inevitably, the template is always the same. Always the same. Head tipped up from below, beseeching supplication. The fact that it's vanishingly unlikely to even be an intentional parallel on Caelus's part only adds to the impression. Isn't this familiar?
Luocha will not linger on how very familiar it is. Nor will he unpack the twisting flicker of feeling the sight invokes, aroused and pleased and bitter bitter bitter all at once. No, not right now. Right now...
It is truly satisfying beyond words, above all else, to have something so simple to toy with. No overarching conspiracies, no underlying goals, no finely precarious balance of cause and effect and consequence to constantly check and weigh. The power balance here has tipped back, now that Caelus has goaded him into dropping all pretenses, and it's where it should be. ...For Luocha is a man perpetually in pursuit of control, yes, in a world where a mere mortal being is permitted so very little of it, forces barely within one's ken constantly in motion overhead. But here is something he can bend and shape to his will by the simplest means, an open book refreshingly plain to read. He may not have anticipated reaching this point, in this encounter...but in the end it was Caelus who opted to openly encourage it himself--who has yet to push away, and can't seem to help but beg for more--and a good doctor does listen to the needs of his patient, after all. (It's just...unfortunate, very unfortunate, that the Trailblazer's proclivities are apparently so very lenient. To crave a person like this, with such unpleasant things underneath that too-pleasant surface...but, well. As the saying goes. There's no accounting for taste, and it's hardly Luocha's role to criticize it.)
The damp words, the pleading eyes, the way he bobs his head that bit to take more in his mouth...there's not a lack of effort here, despite the limited means available. Adorable. The young man's body trembles deliciously under him, so clearly overwhelmed with a need that has nowhere to go, and Luocha hums pensively as he slowly presses further over the damp heat of that pliant tongue--deeper--just enough so for breathing to start being difficult, just on the verge of too much. The way Caelus seems to so thoroughly enjoy having just these fingers in his mouth, it really is far too easy to imagine what else it could pleasure...enough so that the sight and the thought coil a dull but intrigued heat anew, between his own legs. Hm. Perhaps not this night, but next time...
"Next time". There's another thought for later unpacking--]
Mm, that's better. Much better. You're very good like this, too. [Still low, still heated, but there's a lilt reminiscent of that more gently kind guise in Luocha's tone as he murmurs the praise. Tempting as it is to be cruel, just to observe the shape of Caelus's desperate dismay--still, credit must be placed where it's due, between that earlier intent to get him off and the way he strains so sweetly now.] ...Very well, then, since you're begging so nicely...
[Luocha's fingers slip out of his mouth. And, at the same time, that agonizing pressure deftly held over Caelus's cock is released as well, in favor of stroking it anew. Coaxing to that needed release. --Even when he does come, Luocha's hand won't stop.]
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Luocha will not linger on how very familiar it is. Nor will he unpack the twisting flicker of feeling the sight invokes, aroused and pleased and bitter bitter bitter all at once. No, not right now. Right now...
It is truly satisfying beyond words, above all else, to have something so simple to toy with. No overarching conspiracies, no underlying goals, no finely precarious balance of cause and effect and consequence to constantly check and weigh. The power balance here has tipped back, now that Caelus has goaded him into dropping all pretenses, and it's where it should be. ...For Luocha is a man perpetually in pursuit of control, yes, in a world where a mere mortal being is permitted so very little of it, forces barely within one's ken constantly in motion overhead. But here is something he can bend and shape to his will by the simplest means, an open book refreshingly plain to read. He may not have anticipated reaching this point, in this encounter...but in the end it was Caelus who opted to openly encourage it himself--who has yet to push away, and can't seem to help but beg for more--and a good doctor does listen to the needs of his patient, after all. (It's just...unfortunate, very unfortunate, that the Trailblazer's proclivities are apparently so very lenient. To crave a person like this, with such unpleasant things underneath that too-pleasant surface...but, well. As the saying goes. There's no accounting for taste, and it's hardly Luocha's role to criticize it.)
The damp words, the pleading eyes, the way he bobs his head that bit to take more in his mouth...there's not a lack of effort here, despite the limited means available. Adorable. The young man's body trembles deliciously under him, so clearly overwhelmed with a need that has nowhere to go, and Luocha hums pensively as he slowly presses further over the damp heat of that pliant tongue--deeper--just enough so for breathing to start being difficult, just on the verge of too much. The way Caelus seems to so thoroughly enjoy having just these fingers in his mouth, it really is far too easy to imagine what else it could pleasure...enough so that the sight and the thought coil a dull but intrigued heat anew, between his own legs. Hm. Perhaps not this night, but next time...
"Next time". There's another thought for later unpacking--]
Mm, that's better. Much better. You're very good like this, too. [Still low, still heated, but there's a lilt reminiscent of that more gently kind guise in Luocha's tone as he murmurs the praise. Tempting as it is to be cruel, just to observe the shape of Caelus's desperate dismay--still, credit must be placed where it's due, between that earlier intent to get him off and the way he strains so sweetly now.] ...Very well, then, since you're begging so nicely...
[Luocha's fingers slip out of his mouth. And, at the same time, that agonizing pressure deftly held over Caelus's cock is released as well, in favor of stroking it anew. Coaxing to that needed release. --Even when he does come, Luocha's hand won't stop.]