Johann shudders out a soft moan, using his hands to run along his horns, the back of his neck, just getting whatever input that he can. Whatever he can feel, whatever he can get, he wants to take. He spent too long by himself to waste this moment right here. He's been dreaming of it.

Each goddamn scrape of teeth and bites makes him shudder and he grips the back of the couch. "If you're going to bite me, then fucking bite me," he moans as soon as he finds that he has breath in his lungs.

Then he's asking about fucking lube and reaches over to swat him on the side of the head. "I'm magical. I can get whatever I want."

And there is some in his other hand that he gives to him.