[ He did end up sitting with Allen through it though, whether he realized it or not. He isn't one to have isolated over something like that, and it was on his mind when he'd curl up against Shouto to half-doze when he was reading. Taking comfort from his presence and using it as an excuse to study him and let his mind wander. It was what Allen needed at least, that and time to ease himself into, well... Himself. A him that had wants he didn't just shove under a rug and ignore anymore.
Something that is going to be forever impossible to put back in a box now. Not when Shouto snaps up into his hand with such a choked sound, and even when Allen gives a faintly disappointed groan at the lack of contact when he lets go and stops touching him, it dies on his lips to watch him splinter and come undone beneath him. That's -- oh.
No, he entirely understands what it means to look at someone and feel desire now. Pure, raw, hot, unfiltered desire to touch and make come undone, beautiful and disheveled, and it hits him with the subtly of a truck. His own uncomfortably aroused state means nothing by comparison, and Allen leans in to lick the shell of his ear with a hot puff of breath as he chases down Shouto's climax instead of his own and with a lot more gusto. Sucking hard on the lobe and rolling it over his tongue as his wrist pumps in a strong, smooth rhythm in sync with his hips, the Innocence of his glove gliding with fluidity over the hardened flesh, cool but also warm. The first creep of frost sweeps underneath his lips and he licks at that too for a moment, to momentarily banish it with the heat of his mouth before Shouto gasps in his ear. Before he feels the chill against his knee where it's pressed to his hip too and sees the flicker of firelight once again from the corner of his eye.
Can't—? His quirk. No, he means-- ]
It's alright. [ Even in his panting and wrecked state, Allen says it so softly against his cool ear, so lovingly, and squeezes as he continues to jerk him off faster. Even as the ice encases one knee and there's a bloom of fire to the other side that swirls and dances with the errant featherlike strands that peel off his cloak. Crown Clown reacts on instinct, spreading against and smothering the fire where it touches as they continue to move in tandem, insulating Allen, but letting itself become iced over as well to the other side. But with his chest partially bared where the cloak doesn't touch and one knee pressed against Shouto's hip, it might still burn him before Crown Clown can smother it in time. Maybe it has already but he's too overstimulated to process the pain correctly. And if that's so, he's okay with that. It's a price he's more than fine with right now, Shouto had warned him already, and it's why Allen hovers to his safer right side with his hood slung so low as to obscure his face, breathing sweet and soothing reassurances against his ear when Shouto starts to hyperventilate as his hand continues to work up and down his cock. Trying to coax him little by little into letting go.
I'm here, I'll be here, we'll be here for each other together-- Every step of the night he's wanted to find ways to say that and reassure him. Realizing he was being reassured of it by Shouto, even if it came in the form of a stack of papers. Trying to heal old wounds he didn't realize were still a little raw. This is not what Allen had in mind or where he thought it would go, not exactly, but the fundamental meaning behind it is still the same for him.
Every part of me -- I'm saying you have it.
The moment the heat cuts like someone flipped a switch though, when that cool white and red fire blossoms between them in conjunction with the light of Crown Clown and Allen's breath catches as it's directly under his face, unprotected from that angle yet not burning him -- he stares. Remembers seeing that before, blooming between them as well that night in that alternate reality of his world they'd been trapped in but had forgotten about with everything else that was happening. It's beautiful. He's beautiful, head thrown back in the moment, the most beautiful thing he thinks he's ever seen, and Allen stares in awe.
For a moment he almost thinks he's orgasmed too just from feeling himself emotionally tip over, and with the safer temperature he surges forward then. Mouth hot and sealing over Shouto's throat like a starving man feasting at a banquet, or the worship of the pious, and the bladed fingers at his back continue to hold him up tenderly while the firm but loving grasp of his other hand wrings the last of his orgasm from him with sweet and thorough attention. ]
no subject
Something that is going to be forever impossible to put back in a box now. Not when Shouto snaps up into his hand with such a choked sound, and even when Allen gives a faintly disappointed groan at the lack of contact when he lets go and stops touching him, it dies on his lips to watch him splinter and come undone beneath him. That's -- oh.
No, he entirely understands what it means to look at someone and feel desire now. Pure, raw, hot, unfiltered desire to touch and make come undone, beautiful and disheveled, and it hits him with the subtly of a truck. His own uncomfortably aroused state means nothing by comparison, and Allen leans in to lick the shell of his ear with a hot puff of breath as he chases down Shouto's climax instead of his own and with a lot more gusto. Sucking hard on the lobe and rolling it over his tongue as his wrist pumps in a strong, smooth rhythm in sync with his hips, the Innocence of his glove gliding with fluidity over the hardened flesh, cool but also warm. The first creep of frost sweeps underneath his lips and he licks at that too for a moment, to momentarily banish it with the heat of his mouth before Shouto gasps in his ear. Before he feels the chill against his knee where it's pressed to his hip too and sees the flicker of firelight once again from the corner of his eye.
Can't—? His quirk. No, he means-- ]
It's alright. [ Even in his panting and wrecked state, Allen says it so softly against his cool ear, so lovingly, and squeezes as he continues to jerk him off faster. Even as the ice encases one knee and there's a bloom of fire to the other side that swirls and dances with the errant featherlike strands that peel off his cloak. Crown Clown reacts on instinct, spreading against and smothering the fire where it touches as they continue to move in tandem, insulating Allen, but letting itself become iced over as well to the other side. But with his chest partially bared where the cloak doesn't touch and one knee pressed against Shouto's hip, it might still burn him before Crown Clown can smother it in time. Maybe it has already but he's too overstimulated to process the pain correctly. And if that's so, he's okay with that. It's a price he's more than fine with right now, Shouto had warned him already, and it's why Allen hovers to his safer right side with his hood slung so low as to obscure his face, breathing sweet and soothing reassurances against his ear when Shouto starts to hyperventilate as his hand continues to work up and down his cock. Trying to coax him little by little into letting go.
I'm here, I'll be here, we'll be here for each other together-- Every step of the night he's wanted to find ways to say that and reassure him. Realizing he was being reassured of it by Shouto, even if it came in the form of a stack of papers. Trying to heal old wounds he didn't realize were still a little raw. This is not what Allen had in mind or where he thought it would go, not exactly, but the fundamental meaning behind it is still the same for him.
Every part of me -- I'm saying you have it.
The moment the heat cuts like someone flipped a switch though, when that cool white and red fire blossoms between them in conjunction with the light of Crown Clown and Allen's breath catches as it's directly under his face, unprotected from that angle yet not burning him -- he stares. Remembers seeing that before, blooming between them as well that night in that alternate reality of his world they'd been trapped in but had forgotten about with everything else that was happening. It's beautiful. He's beautiful, head thrown back in the moment, the most beautiful thing he thinks he's ever seen, and Allen stares in awe.
For a moment he almost thinks he's orgasmed too just from feeling himself emotionally tip over, and with the safer temperature he surges forward then. Mouth hot and sealing over Shouto's throat like a starving man feasting at a banquet, or the worship of the pious, and the bladed fingers at his back continue to hold him up tenderly while the firm but loving grasp of his other hand wrings the last of his orgasm from him with sweet and thorough attention. ]