[Connected to This Memory. Neither gets into full on graphic, but feel free to assume having seen full on graphic relations.]
[This isn't how this was supposed to happen. At all. But things always went sideways when Josh was involved, and David... Fuck, the things he did for Josh always meant things went a bit too far. Got a bit too intense. Were a bit too... much.
Tonight was no different from the rest. Tonight he'd shown up at the door of the clinic you'd set up, his skin leaden, dark and sans color on any bit of his body but for the scarlet of his blood. And the frank honesty was that things were never as easy as that. Slowly he'd fished bits and pieces and all the like out of Josh, and tried not to say how much it hurt to see Josh like this. Broken and breaking. But you knew quite a bit about how to handle him, didn't you, David? Hadn't you always? Soft words and careful touches and light cooing. It'd been enough, until you'd had the bleeding stopped and Josh lying down on the bed in the back room. The bed is narrow like the ones at Xavier's, which means that you can't lay side by side. Instead he's draped over you, and...
Oh dear lord the and. He has a smell, when he's gold and healed, like warmth and metal and a touch of spices. You wonder if he knows that he does. Maybe it's aftershave. Maybe it's his soap. But how many times have you thought and wondered? How often have you wanted to let your tongue meet the skin to find if it would taste of gold, or skin and sweat, or cinnamon. It's why you don't let him this close any more, the temptation, the desire. The way the light played off his skin, and the way he needs you. Fuck do you want to be needed. You want that warmth and that support and that needs, more than anything. Because when you reach out and touch the world it all falls apart, time and time again. But Josh? Josh always builds back up. Josh doesn't change, immutable. Or maybe he does, but it's not enough.
The weight of him, the warmth of him, the fact that you've almost lost him again? It's not okay. It's not good. It's not remotely cool. Not remotely worth it either. And yet... You want him. As much as you hate yourself for it, David, you want him. Have for a while now. Just about hated Joey for being the one to figure it out sooner, figure himself out sooner, figure out that he wanted Josh in his arms. But who has him now? Who was the one on the outside, able to lean up and press chapped lips against warm, sweet, soft ones?
It takes a moment, but he pulls back, and that's when you know he's not yours. He'll never be yours. That you're not likely to win this battle, because you were never meant to. Can see how he pulls back, and it cuts to the quick. Stop, David, you want to tell yourself, but instead your hand betrays you, coming up to cup his cheek. Stop, your brain says.]
I can make it good for you.
[You shouldn't. But your fingers glide back and up and into his hair, stroking through it before they massage down his neck. It's not like anyone else is giving Josh what he needs. It's not like he's with Joey anymore. It's not like anyone could care. But if they did... if that worries him... He can say no. Josh can always say no. But he doesn't, as you lean up and cease his lips again, offering something slower. Something lingering. Something with heat as your free hand finds the swell of his ass and squeezes. And he makes the most beautiful noise as you roll him under you.
He looks good against the sheets, black because they don't show blood. He looks good, golden and shining and beautiful. Perhaps Josh is just meant for things like this. For pleasure and hunger and the finer things. You can't give him that. He'll never let you. But he doesn't protest, and he doesn't say no, and for now, that's good enough. And you're going to make it more than good enough. You're going to make it amazing.]
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G - CNC2020 NSFW | CW: Implied Sex, DubCon
16/3/20 22:37 (UTC)[This isn't how this was supposed to happen. At all. But things always went sideways when Josh was involved, and David... Fuck, the things he did for Josh always meant things went a bit too far. Got a bit too intense. Were a bit too... much.
Tonight was no different from the rest. Tonight he'd shown up at the door of the clinic you'd set up, his skin leaden, dark and sans color on any bit of his body but for the scarlet of his blood. And the frank honesty was that things were never as easy as that. Slowly he'd fished bits and pieces and all the like out of Josh, and tried not to say how much it hurt to see Josh like this. Broken and breaking. But you knew quite a bit about how to handle him, didn't you, David? Hadn't you always? Soft words and careful touches and light cooing. It'd been enough, until you'd had the bleeding stopped and Josh lying down on the bed in the back room. The bed is narrow like the ones at Xavier's, which means that you can't lay side by side. Instead he's draped over you, and...
Oh dear lord the and. He has a smell, when he's gold and healed, like warmth and metal and a touch of spices. You wonder if he knows that he does. Maybe it's aftershave. Maybe it's his soap. But how many times have you thought and wondered? How often have you wanted to let your tongue meet the skin to find if it would taste of gold, or skin and sweat, or cinnamon. It's why you don't let him this close any more, the temptation, the desire. The way the light played off his skin, and the way he needs you. Fuck do you want to be needed. You want that warmth and that support and that needs, more than anything. Because when you reach out and touch the world it all falls apart, time and time again. But Josh? Josh always builds back up. Josh doesn't change, immutable. Or maybe he does, but it's not enough.
The weight of him, the warmth of him, the fact that you've almost lost him again? It's not okay. It's not good. It's not remotely cool. Not remotely worth it either. And yet... You want him. As much as you hate yourself for it, David, you want him. Have for a while now. Just about hated Joey for being the one to figure it out sooner, figure himself out sooner, figure out that he wanted Josh in his arms. But who has him now? Who was the one on the outside, able to lean up and press chapped lips against warm, sweet, soft ones?
It takes a moment, but he pulls back, and that's when you know he's not yours. He'll never be yours. That you're not likely to win this battle, because you were never meant to. Can see how he pulls back, and it cuts to the quick. Stop, David, you want to tell yourself, but instead your hand betrays you, coming up to cup his cheek. Stop, your brain says.]
I can make it good for you.
[You shouldn't. But your fingers glide back and up and into his hair, stroking through it before they massage down his neck. It's not like anyone else is giving Josh what he needs. It's not like he's with Joey anymore. It's not like anyone could care. But if they did... if that worries him... He can say no. Josh can always say no. But he doesn't, as you lean up and cease his lips again, offering something slower. Something lingering. Something with heat as your free hand finds the swell of his ass and squeezes. And he makes the most beautiful noise as you roll him under you.
He looks good against the sheets, black because they don't show blood. He looks good, golden and shining and beautiful. Perhaps Josh is just meant for things like this. For pleasure and hunger and the finer things. You can't give him that. He'll never let you. But he doesn't protest, and he doesn't say no, and for now, that's good enough. And you're going to make it more than good enough. You're going to make it amazing.]