"Oh, yes," Azwel breathes in response to the question. "Always something new to try."

At the statement, though, he simply moans thickly. His lips go to Vash's own again, so full and soft, slowly moving. He pulls away with that aching slowness he's so fond of and sits up, finally opening the bottle. His head drops back and he gives another throaty moan as his fingers spread the stuff on.

He's so much the same, yet so qualitatively different--those sounds are so familiar. But the way he teases his tip between the other's cock and balls, pressing wetly into that little space, is not.