A faint, poking sensation on his ribs makes Noiz jerk upright—there stands a face he recognizes instantly, features pale and young-looking under tousled ivory hair. To Noiz, he looks almost flawless.

Any time Sly adds another incision seems to just spin out and out, a blissful eternity. He feels none of the pain that he's being put under, of course, but the sight—of narrow red lines, horizontal lacerations where the blade of the knife splits the skin—makes something move in him.

// jesus it's been A While lmao

You're one to talk.

Should put on bunny ears.

He cups the cigarette with one hand and brings the lighter to it in the other, taking a long drag and holding it in his lungs until it starts to burn. His eyes flick to the meager crowd congregating in the distance. "You're not playing?"

There flickers a knowing expression across Noiz's features. A smile, small, that does not quite reach his eyes, which narrow towards his Coil. He is familiar with this, recognizable to him purely by experience: shallow praise and wheedling to make oneself known and seen in his presence ↴

Noiz is on his Coil, alternating between at least three screens when a voice crackles from a woman on his side. He meets her gaze easily; expressionless, narrow, pale eyes staring right back at her; studying her with the kind of wariness reserved for strangers whose intentions he knows little of. ↴

A glance thrown at the things being offered to him, reaching out to pluck only the cigarette from between the man's fingers. He brings the filtered end to his lips and leans over and in—tipping his head expectantly, a silent request—mumbling around it as he speaks. "What are you doing here?"

"Some of it is," Noiz replies, pushing his thumb against his nose and studying it. The blood isn't fast-flowing, but it's already smeared across the contours of his face, dripping precariously off his lips and into his mouth. "Got another?" he asks after a moment, indicating the cigarette.

He's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the soft sound of footsteps at his side. He turns his head to his right, tilting his chin down towards his shoulder to investigate, and he lets his body relax when he registers that it's just Aoba. ↴

Noiz leans up, wipes the back of his hand over his blood-splattered mouth, wetness smearing across his wrist and cheek. In his tattered shirt and pants, he leans against a wall and sighs. The smell is almost nauseating. But he got his fight. And he feels better for it, his shoulders relaxed.

( Noiz leans back, confused by the severity of the reaction. His brows furrow slightly enough to form only the barest wrinkles on his forehead. ) Suit yourself.

Understand what? What does that even 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯?

...what.

( He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head a bit, ushering the man to continue. )

( Noiz smirks, triumphantly. ) You really should upgrade to a new Allmate. Older hardware becomes obsolete fast.

Not what you said last night.

Who would want to touch that junk?

( Noiz, looking a bit surprised by this turn of events, blinks owlishly. ) I— you're serious?

( Noiz doesn't say anything in response, merely allows his smirk to curl wider. If pressed, he wouldn't necessarily say that he *likes* it—not like some people he's known—but he's never shied away from experimenting. )

( He leans against the table, propping up his elbows and resting his chin in the palms of his hands. ) Well? You gonna do it? ( Noiz's smile is transparently smug. )

Noiz is quiet, a few sharp inhales and breathy gasps the only indication that he even feels Sly's heat, sliding his arms around his waist and flattening his hands along the arch of his spine as he soaks in how tight he is. "Yeah?" Noiz grins, a brief show of teeth. "You like it?"

Noiz receives the slap on his flank with delight—allowing his lips to tilt as he meets Sly's drawn brows with a smirk—and without missing a beat, briskly rolls his body over. He lies back, eyes wild, dilated, watching his every movement as he brings his hands to Sly's waist. ⤵

Noiz cranes his head around, upturned eyes looking back in a sharp tone of green, but ultimately refrains from any word on the matter. He accepts the hand on his body—the touch raising the hairs at his nape—but an equal stubbornness makes him lean into the motion despite his inability to really ⤵

The boy goes still, goes quiet, as he processes what he's been called. He doesn't mind it, just doesn't have a script for how he's supposed to react here, ever-stranger to positive affirmations. ⤵

Noiz keeps on sucking for just a moment longer, rolling his tongue around his dick lap it clean, and training his eyes upward, glances back at Sly. When Noiz finally lets Sly's cock slip from his mouth, he rests it against his damp cheek, flushed red and shiny with spit smeared all over. ⤵

Noiz continues the work of his wrist, building him up stroke by stroke and he's so close he can taste it. Which, of course, he does. Thick and hot over Noiz's tongue and down his face, the viscous fluid slowly drips from his lips, his cheekbones, his left eye where threads of it curl over his >

A keening groan reverberates from deep in his chest, both out of surprise and pure delight. There is some discomfort but not so much to outweigh the pleasure Noiz takes from the grip in his hair, flares of spiky tension lashing along every follicle.

With hot tongue and wet sounds and little nuzzling, he cranes his neck forward to engulf the man's cock with his mouth, closing his lips around him and just /going/ for it, bobbing as if he could somehow by force alone take Sly with him to another plane of existence.

// 👀 #RPSKY

Noiz takes the box as it is shoved towards him, regarding it suspiciously before, with a sigh, flipping open the container with an unoccupied hand. He starts to say something, but only lifts a brow when he double-checks what's inside; sure enough, there is a classic cheese pizza, nothing too fancy—

In silence, Noiz examines the cardboard box in Aoba's hands, gives a puzzled frown. A hot savory smell wafts out and perfumes the air between them. "What's this?"

"Uh-huh."

As if on cue from the guy's vocalizations, Noiz hollows his cheeks to suck. He pulls back long and slow for Sly to see just how much of his dick Noiz is taking already, then promptly swallows him down. His nose gets lost among the fine strands on Sly's navel, fighting his body as best he can to >

"You literally asked me, though."

"Hey." Noiz's voice has gone gentle, his eyes searching Aoba, trying to look him in the face for clues. "Seriously. What's all this about? When did you have time to—to—" he falters, gesturing at all of the man with a quick flap of his hand, dropping it harshly on the bed on the downsweep.

"Yes," Noiz replies regally, though the effect is somewhat lost by the fact his shirt is all rumpled up. He tucks it back into place. "I don't think I should let you see the rest, though," he continues, surveying the flush in Aoba's face, "not if you'll clutch your pearls over a little skin."

Noiz's smirk softens a little, enough that the expression is clear on his face as he tilts his head, looking past Aoba to a point far in the distance. "Twenty-six," he offers, after an elongated moment. "That's how many I have. You've seen the ones on my face, my hands. But I also have... this," >

Noiz is only half-listening. He is not familiar with that tone of voice, hasn't encountered it before. Maybe a little bit, the nights that Aoba gets feistier than he lets on—and that Noiz gives him credit for. But the tone he puts on when he's bringing Noiz entirely to helpless delight is far more >

Noiz's lips part briefly and he smiles before closing them and swallowing. He considers his company for a moment, brimming overfull with questions, before rolling his body over and onto his back.

( A single golden eyebrow goes up, smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. ) You're the one who started talking about dick in public.

( Noiz blinks at him, quirks an eyebrow and frowns as he puzzles that out. ) You talking about my dick?

Noiz looks up through his lashes mischievously, scraping his teeth carefully on a hip bone, and instantaneously he is gratified by the response, cock jutting satisfyingly hard into the air. While he shifts over to graze his teeth on the other protruding hip, he swims a hand off the mattress and >

Noiz needs no further encouragement. It's almost instantly that he lunges forward, straddling the guy's knees, and in the same motion rips the hat off his head and tosses it blindly somewhere to the left. His hands push at Sly's shoulders, sinking him into the back of the mattress, then regards >

Noiz brazenly watches, making no effort to be polite about his interest. "Need a hand with that?" he offers, twisting his wrist in suggestive little motions.

You've never seen my nipples.

The boy murmurs indistinctly, pressing in and curling himself so that he's buried under Aoba's hair, under his chin. He opens his eyes a moment later, and looks uncertainly at what's revealed before them. "What..." He doesn't finish the question.