[Fuck if that's not an immediate improvement on oh, everything ever; Avdol's still running his tongue over his bottom lip when he's finally obliged, and it's all he can do to keep from pushing Abbacchio back and riding him like he's stolen.

But the Iris in him prefers it this way, prefers looking up over looking down, prefers being stretched slowly open and loomed over at the same time. It's almost like all that fire, that selfishness has been doused suddenly, replaced with blatant adoration all for application of genitalia. Ah, the joys of weird lunar heats; getting to deal with organic lubricant coming from orifices it shouldn't, tingly venom hair, lightshows from head to toe, and apparently, Avdol's moods changing from highkey horny to highkey mommy kink or some shit.]

You're good. You're lovely, eveh-nn, nh, if you're being far too nice to me. [Especially considering there's absolutely no resistance on the bottoming out front. None whatsoever, just slick heat almost greedily sucking Abbacchio in like the rest of Avdol's currently trying to.] And between us?

[Those tendrils keep on gently suctioning and tugging away, bar the one currently being rubbed; that one's just squirming, charging the air with static in lieu of being able to convey active affection. That's alright, though; that's what hands are for, and what Avdol's doing with one of his own right now. Going in for the face-pet, thumb over lips as he hums contentedly away.] ...Your, ah. Your dick's my favourite.

[Is he trying to see what sort of reaction that'll get, as payback for the teasing? M a y b e.]