⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧 || Very selectively accepting !
@mcltiples sent: [ praise ] sender murmurs praise in between kisses, rewarding receiver for being so good { To your Evil Rick from my Weird Rick xD }
The room was filled with the smell of sex and sweat. The dim darkness it was wrapped in made the air feel warmer and velvety, the perfect, quiet, huddled frame for the intimacy that had just been consumed among those metal walls. Now that there were no longer moans and heavy breathing, the silence was breached just by the light rustling of the sheets and by the hushed whispers of a voice, its words muffled as they were dropped, together with kisses, against cool skin.
Rick merely laid there, only half listening to what his partner was saying. The way that mouth keep brushing his flesh was distracting, as he kept trying to feel the words instead of hearing them. He could easily read lip movement when watching them. He was curious if he could have learnt to do the same through touch.
Besides, what the other man was saying didn't need him to pay the utmost attention. They were mostly senseless comments and purred praises. He wasn't even sure of what had earned him such compliments, even if, by logic, he was tempted to think that his owner's sexual satisfaction was to blame. It would have tracked, since his alternate tended to get more incoherent and lax after an intercourse he had particularly enjoyed.
Such a good kitten, minding your claws until I told you not to. So obedient, that's why I let you on the furniture.
Gray blue eyes moved to the side, as he tilted his head slightly to be able to steal a glance at the other's face. Was he supposed to feel flattered by such claims? Was there some secret meaning he needed to find in them? Was this supposed to set some kind of mood? Or was he doing the right thing, just lying there and letting his partner get it out of his system?
So many question, and absolutely no answer. This "pillow talk" ritual would probably forever remain a mystery to him. Just as many things that were linked to sexual activities.
He blinked once, slowly, and then turned his head back to its previous position, so that he could go back staring at the ceiling. He could feel that his owner was starting to doze off, sated and content, from how more slack and sloppy the movements of his lips were getting. He would wait for him to have fully passed out and then he would head back to the lab, to finish the experiment that he had been forced to abruptly abandon earlier.
And, who knows, perhaps he could write down a list of all those praises. Maybe seeing them all together would help him figuring out that apparently meaningless puzzle.
