It's so much in his head. Halfway like they're there already, and the other half is the most intense tease he's ever experienced. The biting fantasies get him the most, and Louis can no doubt feel the tension that runs through him— it's good but it's a lot, tangled with him like this, the perfect position to lean his head down and sink fangs into his throat.
Like the surface of the sea shifting up and down, with one heartbeat he wants to fuck him more than bite him, and then the next, bloodletting takes over. Then back, and back again, and, and, and...
"Yeah."
Doing something here. Daniel pinches Louis' thigh in affectionate warning about the biting shit. He really won't be able to control himself. But fucking, he's done before. Though it's been a while. One last frisson of nerves—
(A torrent of things he only partially remembers as a kid, not because of telepathic interference but because of drugs and risky bullshit, an affair he had that was maybe the worst thing he ever did to his second wife, the clubs he kept visiting all throughout every marriage, a fellow reporter who would have left his own wife for Daniel, and all of them, Daniel buried, like an asshole, like a callous, awful person who used survivor's guilt like self-harm but kept on with it all.)
—but he's over it, because Louis is here, and he wants him so bad it's tipped over into needing him. And yes, done making them both wait. He pushes into him and thank fuck he still knows what he's doing. Something still trembles in him, and he clutches onto the other man, eyes bright and dilated with thin green circles and not like his maker's at all.
no subject
Like the surface of the sea shifting up and down, with one heartbeat he wants to fuck him more than bite him, and then the next, bloodletting takes over. Then back, and back again, and, and, and...
"Yeah."
Doing something here. Daniel pinches Louis' thigh in affectionate warning about the biting shit. He really won't be able to control himself. But fucking, he's done before. Though it's been a while. One last frisson of nerves—
(A torrent of things he only partially remembers as a kid, not because of telepathic interference but because of drugs and risky bullshit, an affair he had that was maybe the worst thing he ever did to his second wife, the clubs he kept visiting all throughout every marriage, a fellow reporter who would have left his own wife for Daniel, and all of them, Daniel buried, like an asshole, like a callous, awful person who used survivor's guilt like self-harm but kept on with it all.)
—but he's over it, because Louis is here, and he wants him so bad it's tipped over into needing him. And yes, done making them both wait. He pushes into him and thank fuck he still knows what he's doing. Something still trembles in him, and he clutches onto the other man, eyes bright and dilated with thin green circles and not like his maker's at all.