"Like the new place, babe?" Kells looked down at you. Inhuman eyes and an entirely human smirk. "Just imagine, if I didn't buy it for us, would you still let me live with you?"
The incubus strolled around the forested edge of the property, along the path with tasteful lights stuck in the ground every few meters. Of course, it was gorgeous and sunny out, with only a light breeze that didn't disrupt the Sun's warmth on your body.
"I bet you would, heh." He was wearing a blue tank top, ripped at around his solar plexus. On the bottom, short-shorts with some tasteful shredding at the bottom so as not to be entirely feminine. The waistband of his underwear was visible. Cheap, rubber sandals clung to his paws loosely. "Now, don't worry, babe."
Kells took your hand in his for but a moment. "I've given the movers some extra motivation, it'll be ready real soon, mhm." He put his hands by his mouth, miming a blowjob—sound and all.
"Gym rat" was plausible, but he certainly looked the part of a cheap hooker. A cheap hooker who could game the system. A fucking magic hooker. "Daww, don't act like that wasn't the hottest thing you've seen—in, what, the past 5 minutes?"
"I tend not to keep track of every time I've been sexy as shit," He walked a little ahead of you. He rose his arms and stretched his shoulders and back, exposing his fluffy pits. On most other men, that'd be gross, or at least rude. But Kells made every little gesture an art piece, like an exact demonic solution for the asshole–sex god tensor. He damn well knew it. "Even Einstein couldn't count that high, you know?"
An idle lick of a fang. The breeze through his long fur. The heave of his chest against his crop top. Kells was looking up at the sky. Something was being planned. Wagging hips. He looked back at you. A grin. "Wanna fuck some shit up? Fuck in general?"