(Squalo can go to town with marking Feitan, considering that a. he doesn't give a fuck about it being apparent, and b. his bandana is going to cover the shark bite entirely either way. He knows the other has drawn blood and so has he, by the warmness dripping and gliding across his neck into his collarbone. He isn't even sure whose blood it is anymore, his blood, Squalo's blood, that demon's blood... All he's seeing is red, both in lust and in violence. What a fucked up couple. No wonder they've met in Hell!
The bite, alongside the fact that there's a finger entering him, made Feitan gasp louder than he could ever imagine he would. It's fine that Squalo is more focused on himself because so is Feitan, with the way that he tries to fuck himself on the single finger that has been provided to him. He can keep himself from falling with his legs and a single arm, so the claws retract and his hand takes the responsibility of stroking them as Squalo has.
no subject
The bite, alongside the fact that there's a finger entering him, made Feitan gasp louder than he could ever imagine he would. It's fine that Squalo is more focused on himself because so is Feitan, with the way that he tries to fuck himself on the single finger that has been provided to him. He can keep himself from falling with his legs and a single arm, so the claws retract and his hand takes the responsibility of stroking them as Squalo has.
He sure did ask for this. He'll continue to.)