Thirteen Days Of Feeling Like This
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,236
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,236
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Thirteen Days Of Feeling Like This
Pairing: omc/omc. same ones as before.
Rating: R-ish.
Warnings: m/m slash, not beta\'d. Bad me.
Disclaimer: These boys belong to muse and I. I\'ve asked, and she doesn\'t mind me playing with hers, since she gets to play with mine in return. ~grins~
Summary: Where have you been?
Thirteen Days of Feeling Like This
And I don\'t know where you are but like a drug lift me up to the stars
It\'s why I\'m feeling alive
[\"Ten More Minutes With You\" by Kill Hannah]
He sits, the darkness surrounding his feet a cushion for the dim light that the lantern casts. On his lap is an open book. Its pages are fraying at the edges like grey lace, ink makes spidery letters as his pen skitters across a new leaf.
It\'s been two weeks, almost. Too long, I don\'t know how I\'m still breathing. Where are you? Don\'t you know how much I need you?
A tap drips, wet clinks as water hits porcelain. It\'s a cliché in an otherwise silent room. He unfolds his private melodrama; his emotions the stars of the show. Loneliness takes top billing.
I miss you. Even the smell of you is fading away now, though I still hear echoes of your voice. They will be the last thing to go, I think. Come back to me, I can\'t stand the silence. Find me.
It\'s the same plea he\'s made every day for thirteen days. His feet ache from the searching, almost as much as his knees ache from the praying.
Sleep creeps into his fingers, spreads through him like blood; warm, dark, thick. The diary slips from his lap, lands in the folds of a woolen blanket. His head dips, eyes closing, closed.
It\'s a dream; the weight that presses down on him. A wishful, wistful dream; the touch of lips to his eyelashes. Heavy arms lift, the addict offering up his skin, his veins, his soul. Just a dream. You\'re not here. You\'re somewhere nowhere, not here. Kisses come, harder, find each and every freckle, whisper through each and every hair. He doesn\'t know how he\'s still breathing. Only a dream.
\"I know you\'ve been looking for me.\"
The scrape of teeth across his wrist, the tongue that deftly follows; he arches, weakened arm hanging suddenly limp in a hot grasp.
\"You don\'t have to look any more.\"
The pulse of recognition, quickening inside hot, wet lips. Take my blood, take my body, take everything. It feels like dying, and there\'s heaven behind his eyes, in the corners of his mouth. Rich, almost sickening, like thick cream.
\"I\'m here now, puppy. Let go.\"
Where have you been? Where were you? Sliding effortlessly into breathless writhing, writing eroticism on his own skin, back of his hand to his mouth and growing damper, glistening with words shaped by the tip of his tongue.
\"There. Here. Nowhere. Everywhere between.\"
A gasp, their palms becoming mutual feasts as teeth bite down. Hello. He curses, sucking in air as light and pleasure bursts sweetly through his body. You\'re real.
\"I\'m back.\"
Rating: R-ish.
Warnings: m/m slash, not beta\'d. Bad me.
Disclaimer: These boys belong to muse and I. I\'ve asked, and she doesn\'t mind me playing with hers, since she gets to play with mine in return. ~grins~
Summary: Where have you been?
And I don\'t know where you are but like a drug lift me up to the stars
It\'s why I\'m feeling alive
[\"Ten More Minutes With You\" by Kill Hannah]
He sits, the darkness surrounding his feet a cushion for the dim light that the lantern casts. On his lap is an open book. Its pages are fraying at the edges like grey lace, ink makes spidery letters as his pen skitters across a new leaf.
It\'s been two weeks, almost. Too long, I don\'t know how I\'m still breathing. Where are you? Don\'t you know how much I need you?
A tap drips, wet clinks as water hits porcelain. It\'s a cliché in an otherwise silent room. He unfolds his private melodrama; his emotions the stars of the show. Loneliness takes top billing.
I miss you. Even the smell of you is fading away now, though I still hear echoes of your voice. They will be the last thing to go, I think. Come back to me, I can\'t stand the silence. Find me.
It\'s the same plea he\'s made every day for thirteen days. His feet ache from the searching, almost as much as his knees ache from the praying.
Sleep creeps into his fingers, spreads through him like blood; warm, dark, thick. The diary slips from his lap, lands in the folds of a woolen blanket. His head dips, eyes closing, closed.
It\'s a dream; the weight that presses down on him. A wishful, wistful dream; the touch of lips to his eyelashes. Heavy arms lift, the addict offering up his skin, his veins, his soul. Just a dream. You\'re not here. You\'re somewhere nowhere, not here. Kisses come, harder, find each and every freckle, whisper through each and every hair. He doesn\'t know how he\'s still breathing. Only a dream.
\"I know you\'ve been looking for me.\"
The scrape of teeth across his wrist, the tongue that deftly follows; he arches, weakened arm hanging suddenly limp in a hot grasp.
\"You don\'t have to look any more.\"
The pulse of recognition, quickening inside hot, wet lips. Take my blood, take my body, take everything. It feels like dying, and there\'s heaven behind his eyes, in the corners of his mouth. Rich, almost sickening, like thick cream.
\"I\'m here now, puppy. Let go.\"
Where have you been? Where were you? Sliding effortlessly into breathless writhing, writing eroticism on his own skin, back of his hand to his mouth and growing damper, glistening with words shaped by the tip of his tongue.
\"There. Here. Nowhere. Everywhere between.\"
A gasp, their palms becoming mutual feasts as teeth bite down. Hello. He curses, sucking in air as light and pleasure bursts sweetly through his body. You\'re real.
\"I\'m back.\"
END