[Alucard was right; even with the towels laid down, it's a mess, but it's a mess he almost doesn't register at first, with how caught up he is in the sight of Alucard coming apart at the seams in his arms. He's never seen someone have a reaction like the one Alucard does just then — he's never seen someone sob from pleasure or heard them cry out the way that Alucard does when he comes, and for a terrible second he almost wonders if he's done something wrong.
It also doesn't occur to him at first that he probably needs to turn the vibrator off; likely he leaves it too long, well after Alucard has gone sensitive in the afterglow. It's a mistake born purely of inexperience, but once he catches it, he fumbles to switch the remote off, letting it fall from his hand onto the loveseat cushions so that he can better catch Alucard in his arms.
He looks like a wreck. He's wet all over, and sticky, and probably covered in tears and sweat and hell knows what else. His previously-silky hair is sticking; his claws are so dainty in the way he holds on like his life depends on it.
Jotaro's heart is racing, and fuck, he's rock-hard in his pants.
And yet, the only thing on his mind at the moment is Alucard's aftercare; unmindful of the damp towels and slick mess, he eases Alucard down to slump against his chest, trying to make him as comfortable as he can while he gathers him up and cuddles him almost desperately.]
Shhh, shh.
[Poor Alucard. His dick is still hanging out of his half-lowered sweatpants, his ass still stuffed with the toy, his thighs still a wet mess. He'll have to clean him up, he thinks, but — in a minute.]
Fuck, you're so pretty.
[Did that just come out of his mouth? Evidently it did. But he can't help it, any more than he can help the hard-on in his pants.]
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It also doesn't occur to him at first that he probably needs to turn the vibrator off; likely he leaves it too long, well after Alucard has gone sensitive in the afterglow. It's a mistake born purely of inexperience, but once he catches it, he fumbles to switch the remote off, letting it fall from his hand onto the loveseat cushions so that he can better catch Alucard in his arms.
He looks like a wreck. He's wet all over, and sticky, and probably covered in tears and sweat and hell knows what else. His previously-silky hair is sticking; his claws are so dainty in the way he holds on like his life depends on it.
Jotaro's heart is racing, and fuck, he's rock-hard in his pants.
And yet, the only thing on his mind at the moment is Alucard's aftercare; unmindful of the damp towels and slick mess, he eases Alucard down to slump against his chest, trying to make him as comfortable as he can while he gathers him up and cuddles him almost desperately.]
Shhh, shh.
[Poor Alucard. His dick is still hanging out of his half-lowered sweatpants, his ass still stuffed with the toy, his thighs still a wet mess. He'll have to clean him up, he thinks, but — in a minute.]
Fuck, you're so pretty.
[Did that just come out of his mouth? Evidently it did. But he can't help it, any more than he can help the hard-on in his pants.]