[ As keen as he is, he can sense the pace here, can read that this is going to be different than before, when the fever had one or both of them in its grip. This is different, this is new ground. He feels exposed somehow, raw but there's nothing here that he's fearful of. He likes it, being... himself. Nothing but himself.

His chest heaves, taking deep breaths, trying to fill his lungs but each touch sends waves of frozen fire through him- the touch to his balls, the press of Hellboy's mouth, the fingers that press against him, thick and firm. It's enough to make his legs feel weak again, and he reaches out to wrap his arms around Hellboy's shoulders, needing him, needing the support. ]

You have to be the one to put it in me. I want it to be you. I want every movement, every time my cock twitches, to make me wish it was you.