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Summary
Copia licked his lips, hat lost somewhere, strands of hair flying as he looked at the large Ghoul in front of him. “So how are you going to teach me to keep my hands to myself, Ghoul? Tie me up? Make me beg for it?” The man trailed off with an eye roll, pulling his cassock off with a heated sigh, he was far too warm in the thing. He was left in his trousers, shoes toed off as he slicked his hair back again, freckles stretching across his skin.
“Hm…” Aether was behind him without a sound, hot body pressing against his back, sharp teeth grazing over his shoulder. Copia made a soft noise, fingers moving back to Aether’s mask. He desperately wanted it off, but the Ghoul moved his head when he tried, tutting, “I know just what to do to brats like you.”