[ He'll regret this. He might not be put together enough, something hazy affecting him, but he'll regret it later, when he can't move without pain, because neither of them are young men, and Silco isn't exactly... used to such things these days. He'd had other things to think about β and perhaps he should consider that, but the heat redirects him to the man over him, pulling his thin legs up. he bites at his thigh, and it... does something to him. Like a flip-flop, heat that churns and yearns all in one. ]
Tired already?
[ He asked β goaded β and he swallowed back most of the chuff of air, too-sensitive skin leaving him shuddering while sweat cooled on his skin.
He was exposed, his brain supplied, a rare moment of clarity. He was exposed, and the man stared down at him through the fringe of his hair, negotiating terms of what they'll do to each other, what he wants. Silco goads because it's easier than sounding desperate, even if his voice is slightly rougher than it was before, because he'd used it too much already.
Would it be gone before the end?
he tells him he's on his own, that he won't even tell him. Cantankerous old man, he thinks to himself. There's a flash of something, half-annoyed, half... who knows. They're both ill-tempered and poorly socialized, stuck in their ways and mean, just in different ways.
Still, he bit at his knee, and it sent something like lightning to spark that fire yet again down his leg and through his spine. The fire isn't gone, but it doesn't ake away his breath, his mind. Not yet. He knows it will, though, there's a hunger still burning, still building.
Later, so much later, he'll view the clarity as a missed opportunity to run, flee before he lost all of his damn sense. ]
Very well, if you need help along the way. [ It's a gift, his tone says, that he would do this for him. He's nearly folded in half, like this, his legs over his shoulders, bent like he's prepared to truly crack him in two β but it brings him close, like he's ready to go again already, even though he says that he has to get him there.
So he does what he can think he can do.
Gain control, of course, with those insect legs, nudging him to the side, as if he's trying to push him over, to reverse their position. He wants to see how Silco will? Well. If he plays along, he'll have a knee to his chest pressing into his sternum, digging in, with what little weight he has. ]
no subject
Tired already?
[ He asked β goaded β and he swallowed back most of the chuff of air, too-sensitive skin leaving him shuddering while sweat cooled on his skin.
He was exposed, his brain supplied, a rare moment of clarity. He was exposed, and the man stared down at him through the fringe of his hair, negotiating terms of what they'll do to each other, what he wants. Silco goads because it's easier than sounding desperate, even if his voice is slightly rougher than it was before, because he'd used it too much already.
Would it be gone before the end?
he tells him he's on his own, that he won't even tell him. Cantankerous old man, he thinks to himself. There's a flash of something, half-annoyed, half... who knows. They're both ill-tempered and poorly socialized, stuck in their ways and mean, just in different ways.
Still, he bit at his knee, and it sent something like lightning to spark that fire yet again down his leg and through his spine. The fire isn't gone, but it doesn't ake away his breath, his mind. Not yet. He knows it will, though, there's a hunger still burning, still building.
Later, so much later, he'll view the clarity as a missed opportunity to run, flee before he lost all of his damn sense. ]
Very well, if you need help along the way. [ It's a gift, his tone says, that he would do this for him. He's nearly folded in half, like this, his legs over his shoulders, bent like he's prepared to truly crack him in two β but it brings him close, like he's ready to go again already, even though he says that he has to get him there.
So he does what he can think he can do.
Gain control, of course, with those insect legs, nudging him to the side, as if he's trying to push him over, to reverse their position. He wants to see how Silco will? Well. If he plays along, he'll have a knee to his chest pressing into his sternum, digging in, with what little weight he has. ]