E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
experience , start off saying bro died a virgin . no experience in life , & well , virgin in death . it isn't that he has no desire , it's that he's known for his faith , so what does lust mean ? he's not watched others in any way , & tries to abstain from all talks of it , etc etc . so no , he has no idea what he's doing , barely has an idea of it . he's got an idea of kissing , he's seen couples reunite in heaven , he's seen the rom - coms , but he will fumble until he learns what he's doing , bro needs all the patience he can get .
risk , by the very nature of his lack of experience , everything is some sort of experiment . he'll try whatever his partner suggests , sex with abel is an exercise of extreme trust . he'd like to think they would only have his best interests at heart . depending on the partner , it never feels like a risk , & he's basically ignorant to the dangers before him .
“You’re awake… I was wondering how long you’d let me watch you sleep.” ( non - starter )
"Oh, don't play cute ; we know you can't get enough of watching me~" Said with a smug certainty rather than a playful jest, smirk splitting wide as all six limbs stretched right along with his massive swing span. FUCK ; he felt good. There was nothing better than sex to sleep - at least almost nothing better. Having Vox still around? Pleasant surprise. Always watching didn't mean always around and Valentino had to occasionally make a dramatic show to force the other Overlord's focus when it strayed too much for his own liking.
Big stretch accomplished, Valentino rolls over so he's on his stomach. One hand tucked beneath his chin to hold his head up, another reaching over for a finger to slide between the closest set of Vox's gills, the motion more related to fingering than simply touching.
"Now is my turn to wonder what's got you so sentimental you haven't zapped out hours ago."
Go on, Vox - feed his ego. Make him feel like the prize he knows he is.
Things started off as they typically did for the professor. Even though he was now fallen, and his time in Hell had mostly been met with distrust and disdain, some sinners appeared from the woodwork to ask him for his assistance with something. It could be just about anything, so long as his intellect could handle it. He had the means to get himself out of situations that landed on the more physical side of things, but he wouldn't approach those firsthand. Layton -- the name he retained from his life as a human -- was an enigma compared to his fellow sinners and demons. Where most gave up and gave into the pure, unfiltered energy in their cores, Layton did not. He would always be a pacifist, or some sort of it.
Fortunately for him, Layton wasn't requested for anything that seemed dubious. Someone in the Entertainment District of Pentagram City called upon him to help them figure out where part of their paycheck had gone. A dispute over money; he was well familiar with those. They'd told him that the amount simply wasn't there for them like it should've been based on their math. It led the two of them mulling through their previous paychecks, and then finally to the base hiring agreement from their employer: VoxTek. Unfortunately, neither one of them had the full details of the contract to determine what it could be that was taking these funds out of their paycheck.
It ultimately led Layton to the main lobby of V Tower. He offered to go in their stead due to their supposed fear of trying to ask for it themself. It concerned the professor that they were so frightened over something that very well could have been a mistake. Alas, they were all still in Hell, and it could've simply been a line that said that money could be withheld or even taken from an employee's earnings at any time.
He had gone to the front desk and made himself clear on what he was asking for. He was curious about the fine print on the finite contract that employees had to sign in order to work at VoxTek. Layton was first denied, but he was insistent while keeping his tone firm yet soft. Eventually, the secretary clicked a button, and in just a minute's time, Vox appeared in the lobby in front of Layton.
Vox's introduction had rung true for them both. Vox was simply someone everyone knew, no matter how far removed from public knowledge they were. Like any Overlord, he was someone to be feared and not taken lightly. Every word that passed through his electronic mouth could be critical. Layton stood his ground, however. He didn't flinch; his body, actually, relaxed. Speaking with the CEO might garner him faster results than having to wait through any kind of time on hold.
No matter what, Layton had to be careful. He fully faced him and poised his introduction.
"We have not, sir, which must also come as a surprise seeing I am requesting the fine print of your contract. To give it a second look over, second analysis. Everything your employees agree to must be on there, yes? No matter how long your documents are, being permitted to view them would be crucial for me." Layton didn't want to waste the time of someone as busy -- or deemed important -- as Vox. Still, he had no idea who he was. He would change that now.
"For formality's sake, my name is Layton, Hershel Layton." The professor held out a hand to Vox. "And before you make any assumptions, sir, I am no lawyer, and one will not be coming here." And if one did, it would be out of his hands.
To be honest, one love language that Layton really likes is being in a comfortable silence with a lover. He usually pictures it as him sitting next to/on them as he works or reads, but it doesn't even have to be that. Just so long as he's able to silently communicate with someone from time to time, he will feel safe and happy with them. After some of these instances, he might even profess his thanks in spending the quiet time with him. It might be boring, but it makes Layton's heart swell with comfort, love, and peace.
When you're eleven, you decide to go on a walk in the woods around your house. This isn't something you typically do, you're much more interested in spending time on the family computer, but sometimes. Sometimes it almost feels like something calls to you just as strongly as the computer does.
You go on a walk in the woods. You are eleven. Your life has been a suffocating run of bad luck, but not so bad that you felt like you couldn't recover. You will recover from what happens here in the woods, but you'll come out more scarred than you were when you went in.
The trees tower above you, their limbs stretching out like arms, hoping for an embrace. You aren't afraid, even as dusk falls, you aren't afraid because you have stayed on the trail and you're sure you know the way back home.
You aren't afraid until you see someone ahead of you. Or rather, you see yourself ahead of you.
You realize a second later you're looking in a mirror. A second after that, you realize you're looking into a mirror that doubles as a mask that someone. Something is wearing. She looks humanesque, save for the grayish, marbled skin and the black wings full of huge, dark feathers, and the mask, of course. The mirror-mask.
She looks at you and tilts her head to the side. In one hand she holds a knife. You start to feel fear creeping up inside your throat. You haven't yet learned how to dampen it, you haven't yet learned how to ignore it. You still don't know, yet, how to make it into something useful. You freeze. She approaches.
The image in the mirror changes. It is still you, only now your throat has been flayed open, blood spurting and then just pouring down your front and soaking into the muddy earth below. You see it happen in the mirror and understand that that is meant to happen to you.
You are no longer frozen, no longer stunned, scared into inaction, you turn tail and you run. You bound inside your house gasping for breath and looking for your mother, who only yells at you for being out so late. Her words are sharp and awful, but you hardly notice them. You feel like you can still hear the beating of giant wings, just outside the door.
