[ Childe can't help the way he flexes his arm some, tensing to a point before he relaxes at the press of teeth in his skin. He knows it will hurt in a way; while he's had more than his fair share of licks on the battlefield, he is still human (as far as he knows). He still recovers as slowly as one, and he's no stranger to the pierce of a blade or tooth or claw.
As soon as he feels fangs pierce his skin Childe lets out a long, drawn out hiss, his legs shifting under him. He's still got a hand free, and he uses it to gently thread fingers through Shell's hair, pull it away from his face so he can watch the way the blond drinks from him.
He's always thought Shell pretty, for a man, from the first moment he saw him. It had been a passing thought then but now, with the blond knelt before him with his mouth latched onto his forearm, Childe can take a moment to fully appreciate him. Long lashes and pale skin and bright eyes; perhaps he has a type. ]
no subject
As soon as he feels fangs pierce his skin Childe lets out a long, drawn out hiss, his legs shifting under him. He's still got a hand free, and he uses it to gently thread fingers through Shell's hair, pull it away from his face so he can watch the way the blond drinks from him.
He's always thought Shell pretty, for a man, from the first moment he saw him. It had been a passing thought then but now, with the blond knelt before him with his mouth latched onto his forearm, Childe can take a moment to fully appreciate him. Long lashes and pale skin and bright eyes; perhaps he has a type. ]
... how does it taste?