[ what saiph wants from june isn't fair or right or natural. it's a black and violent current rolling unbreachable over everything it touches, uprooting foundation as it goes, endlessly reaching out across the empty vastness of the universe to a place where saiph's no longer welcome or can even remember. he wants june's lips, the slip of his tongue across the roof of his mouth and his hands in his hair. he wants the hot clench of his body under him or on top of him, and his throat bared for his teeth, heartbeat fluttering inside his mouth. he wants the filthy mortal rawness of a good fuck, and all the quieter moments that come after. he wants to peel him open, layer by layer, to the white bones of his ribcage, and swallow around the humanness of his insides. he wants loyalty. he wants unfaltering, unconditional love.
his selfishness is a defect in his personality, a part of his blanketed history that undoubtedly led to his fall to earth. he wants too much, all the time, and when june opens up against him, kisses him back so eagerly and so sweetly, it is his primordial nature that leads him to take what he gives him without hesitation. it's wrong; it's not fair. he deserves to be twenty-four and vulnerable, but not with him.
( because saiph's loneliness is self-inflicted. he has never learned how to love anything without destroying it down to the marrow, too heavy-handed for tender things. )
but even as he thinks it, he's pressing into him, tracing the delicate heat of his mouth with his tongue and tracking his fingers down his shoulders, over his biceps, loosely grasping one wrist to pin it to the tile by his side and squeeze his free hand over his waist. june is tired and injured, bruised and bleeding in multiple places, and saiph should clean him off, wash his hair and scrub his back, tuck him into his bed for the night and curl up around him. he will, he will, just not right now.
he ducks his head, teeth roughly scraping his pulse and then further down to his shoulder and collar bone. the hand at his waist moves between his thighs, skimming the underside of his cock before saiph grips him loosely, stroking him once. ]
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his selfishness is a defect in his personality, a part of his blanketed history that undoubtedly led to his fall to earth. he wants too much, all the time, and when june opens up against him, kisses him back so eagerly and so sweetly, it is his primordial nature that leads him to take what he gives him without hesitation. it's wrong; it's not fair. he deserves to be twenty-four and vulnerable, but not with him.
( because saiph's loneliness is self-inflicted. he has never learned how to love anything without destroying it down to the marrow, too heavy-handed for tender things. )
but even as he thinks it, he's pressing into him, tracing the delicate heat of his mouth with his tongue and tracking his fingers down his shoulders, over his biceps, loosely grasping one wrist to pin it to the tile by his side and squeeze his free hand over his waist. june is tired and injured, bruised and bleeding in multiple places, and saiph should clean him off, wash his hair and scrub his back, tuck him into his bed for the night and curl up around him. he will, he will, just not right now.
he ducks his head, teeth roughly scraping his pulse and then further down to his shoulder and collar bone. the hand at his waist moves between his thighs, skimming the underside of his cock before saiph grips him loosely, stroking him once. ]