Teeny says: Product of not enough sleep, and too much yogurt. Yogurt, good brain bacteria. This is yaoi. I know it's yaoi. Don't need you to tell me. So no flames. No like yaoi, no read. Simple as that. Any flames will be doused, peed on by my cat.
I don't own these characters. Squaresoft -- or whatever the fork they're called -- does. I just twist them into shreds and put them back together in ways that amuse me.
Rated 'R', for good reason. Run away screaming.
Rain in the Desert
Calloused fingers, like small, ticklish bits of sandpaper under his shirt, moving gently over skin like he needed it slow. Though his breath was coming so hard. Rough jab against his leg, blood-fire and antithetic impatience. The lust could've been sweat. Body aching, throat aching. So parched, drinking kisses. Finally drowning, arching into the touch because he couldn't wait. Spent too long thinking about it, like everything. This wouldn't last long.
Gasping, a moan, those fingers skirting, chuckling over the grateful agony in his pants. It had been too long. Control remembered only for demons, not heavens. A brief dream of shame, but it was too late. The fire, the sheer heaviness. Aching to be emptied, emptied. More, soon, more. Quickly. This wouldn't last...
Mouth-heat, twitching. Down his throat like scalding brands. Gasping, far below the need for air where thoughts were loud enough to shatter.
"God, wanted you...for so long..."
Fingernails raking over what was too sensitive, like a wound. Cry cracking on a voice so long left fallow.
"You're so fucking ready for this."
Coarse tug of clothing, unapologetic, merciful. Bare air, bare skin, bare palm. Tentative stroke and a kiss to swallow the noise.
"So fucking ready. God, I just wanna tease ya."
Feather-touch, burning nips of contact. Groaning, arching, gasping. Again and again, like sparks underwater. Like dripping fire. Like torture, so close to breaking, screaming.
"Vince, please, touch me. I can't fucking stand it..."
Gratefully close. No room for air. Fumbling for something solid, desperate not to break the surface.
Sucked back down in the moment it took to hold what was fleeting.
Slick and hot and firming, firming.
"Oh shit. Oh shit, that's good. Oh fuck, yeah..."
Suddenly assaulted, a deluge. Hard, harder. Faster. Thrusting, panting, jerking, groaning. Oh yes....oh....yes....
"Oh...fuck... Oh fuck!"
Ohhhh....yes....
"I'm gonna....I'm gonna fucking come..."
Don't stop....ohh, don't stop....
"Vince...oh...open yer goddamn eyes..."
Fluttering upward, on the verge of surfacing. Lost in the brimming sound, the cacophany of dewy hedony, the hurricane of decimating climax. Opening up to remember where. And who.
"Don't....fucking leave me behind, Vi...Vin..."
Opened his mouth to taste a name on his lips. Choked on the air, atmosphere too thin on the pinnacle to allow more than depthless breaths. Unbearable, sybaritistic friction, all too vulnerable, too sensitive flesh. Unsanctioned, broken outcry as he finally, finally....
Shivering, shuddering. Blessed, blessed release...
"Shit, Vince...goddamn incredible..."
Tired. Drinking air in heavy bursts amid strands of sweat-beaded hair. Grateful for a wall at his back, an awkward, residual embrace.
Tired...
Raised his arms to touch, pull closer. And refused to meet those startled, wondering eyes.
Tired for now, he admitted, unspoken, of being scorched and alone in sight of unorthodox, unpunctual oasis.
I don't own these characters. Squaresoft -- or whatever the fork they're called -- does. I just twist them into shreds and put them back together in ways that amuse me.
Rated 'R', for good reason. Run away screaming.
Rain in the Desert
Calloused fingers, like small, ticklish bits of sandpaper under his shirt, moving gently over skin like he needed it slow. Though his breath was coming so hard. Rough jab against his leg, blood-fire and antithetic impatience. The lust could've been sweat. Body aching, throat aching. So parched, drinking kisses. Finally drowning, arching into the touch because he couldn't wait. Spent too long thinking about it, like everything. This wouldn't last long.
Gasping, a moan, those fingers skirting, chuckling over the grateful agony in his pants. It had been too long. Control remembered only for demons, not heavens. A brief dream of shame, but it was too late. The fire, the sheer heaviness. Aching to be emptied, emptied. More, soon, more. Quickly. This wouldn't last...
Mouth-heat, twitching. Down his throat like scalding brands. Gasping, far below the need for air where thoughts were loud enough to shatter.
"God, wanted you...for so long..."
Fingernails raking over what was too sensitive, like a wound. Cry cracking on a voice so long left fallow.
"You're so fucking ready for this."
Coarse tug of clothing, unapologetic, merciful. Bare air, bare skin, bare palm. Tentative stroke and a kiss to swallow the noise.
"So fucking ready. God, I just wanna tease ya."
Feather-touch, burning nips of contact. Groaning, arching, gasping. Again and again, like sparks underwater. Like dripping fire. Like torture, so close to breaking, screaming.
"Vince, please, touch me. I can't fucking stand it..."
Gratefully close. No room for air. Fumbling for something solid, desperate not to break the surface.
Sucked back down in the moment it took to hold what was fleeting.
Slick and hot and firming, firming.
"Oh shit. Oh shit, that's good. Oh fuck, yeah..."
Suddenly assaulted, a deluge. Hard, harder. Faster. Thrusting, panting, jerking, groaning. Oh yes....oh....yes....
"Oh...fuck... Oh fuck!"
Ohhhh....yes....
"I'm gonna....I'm gonna fucking come..."
Don't stop....ohh, don't stop....
"Vince...oh...open yer goddamn eyes..."
Fluttering upward, on the verge of surfacing. Lost in the brimming sound, the cacophany of dewy hedony, the hurricane of decimating climax. Opening up to remember where. And who.
"Don't....fucking leave me behind, Vi...Vin..."
Opened his mouth to taste a name on his lips. Choked on the air, atmosphere too thin on the pinnacle to allow more than depthless breaths. Unbearable, sybaritistic friction, all too vulnerable, too sensitive flesh. Unsanctioned, broken outcry as he finally, finally....
Shivering, shuddering. Blessed, blessed release...
"Shit, Vince...goddamn incredible..."
Tired. Drinking air in heavy bursts amid strands of sweat-beaded hair. Grateful for a wall at his back, an awkward, residual embrace.
Tired...
Raised his arms to touch, pull closer. And refused to meet those startled, wondering eyes.
Tired for now, he admitted, unspoken, of being scorched and alone in sight of unorthodox, unpunctual oasis.