Wednesday: 314 words
Hello, everyone. I’m swirlsofblue and today's theme is 314 words. Prompts can be anything but fills must be 314 words long.
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row ( Read more... )
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row ( Read more... )
This isn’t fair. To either one of them. The familiarity of features, gestures, soft susurrations sighed into the bend of his neck, are all a kind of feast for him to gorge upon. Instead of supping at the vein, he closes his eyes and uses long-fingered hands to feed on a fleeting memory of curves and softness now recognizable in hard angles and sculpted muscle.
He leans in closer and finds Jason’s mouth, his lips, in the dark deepness of the night, and delves with tongue and teeth and saliva. He wants to taste him, swallow him down, fill himself with her sibling, her blood.
The recognizable DNA. It’s always in the blood, he knows this. For a fleeting moment he considers devouring this man, sinking his fangs into the flutter of his carotid, sucking and sucking and sucking him dry. Filling his body with the blood of her blood. It is thicker than water, he thinks. Water and wine, both. He wants the taste of Stackhouse on his tongue, he wants to be awash in their particular fluid.
Eyes still closed, panting mouth, he presses this other body deeper and deeper into the mattress, as though he could push them both through the floor and into the earth. To find refuge in the forever night of the dirt. He remembers darker days and can imagine opening this man and hiding inside the quivering viscera. He knows he can’t do this, not to him, not to her.
It’s all too much and he squeezes his eyes shut and gives over to the maleness, the differences instead of the similarities. Just fuck me, he urges him outloud. Fuck me back into oblivion, he begs. Make me forget.
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Excellent fill!
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