(Last time Feitan did an ode to something, the Phantom Troupe massacred the entire mob, their goons, and every single police officer they could find. It had been a bloodbath when the damage was assessed. This feels as true as that, full of emotion even if they can barely comprehend it yet.
He can feel the warmness inside him, and the fact that Squalo has quit the thrusting tells him that he's done, too. A rare show of care emerges from Feitan as he caresses the man's shoulder, presses a kiss to the sweating skin of his neck before his digits disappear into white strands and his lips are taken. It's... Sweet? Nearly breaks Feitan, considering the fury they've just shared.
Not that he isn't kissing back before he can fully process it, a groan accompanying his lips when the man is no longer sharing of his body. Like the fucking majestic being he is, Feitan is falling on his feet, thank you very much. He fixes his pants back in place, but he's not putting a jizz stained dress again for the time being.
... And he doesn't really know what to say, or do? Watch his skin grow red and the frown return to his face as if it has never left it.)
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He can feel the warmness inside him, and the fact that Squalo has quit the thrusting tells him that he's done, too. A rare show of care emerges from Feitan as he caresses the man's shoulder, presses a kiss to the sweating skin of his neck before his digits disappear into white strands and his lips are taken. It's... Sweet? Nearly breaks Feitan, considering the fury they've just shared.
Not that he isn't kissing back before he can fully process it, a groan accompanying his lips when the man is no longer sharing of his body. Like the fucking majestic being he is, Feitan is falling on his feet, thank you very much. He fixes his pants back in place, but he's not putting a jizz stained dress again for the time being.
... And he doesn't really know what to say, or do? Watch his skin grow red and the frown return to his face as if it has never left it.)
... Now what?