He tasted of sweat, of salt, of skin, of heat, of love, of passion. Of long, warm nights, arching into a rose-scented body, of a distinctly flavored tongue lashing out eagerly to get just a small taste. Of darkness, not his own, but the darkness within him, holding him, touching him, showing him exactly how frightening darkness could truly be, but how amazing it could truly feel. Of the short little breaths he took as he came so close, and as his lover suddenly slowed down just a little, just to hear him sing and scream, all for him.
He tasted of innocence, of smiles and laughter and running down the sandy beach with not a care in the world. Of sea-salt dreams and candy-wishes, of oceanesque childhood memories he shared only with the Nobody. Of sunlit days, of summer nights, of watching meteor showers and fireworks and shooting stars, and making blissfully ignorant, nostalgic, beautiful wishes. Of dreams that would never come true but it felt so good to believe they would, of adventures yet to embarked upon, of hopes and memories yet acquired but waiting to be captured like fairies or stars.
Marluxia couldn't get enough.