[From Yoshiki's first admonishment, Link is laughing. The laughter courses like the waning cycle of the moon: he starts out snickering, then giggling without an edge, then giggling softly until it's softened all the way down into these little peeps slipping out in his breath--and then just his breath. New moon. The light-absorbing desire which makes his breath so heavy thus smothers the last of his laughter.
Yoshiki misses him so. damn. m ]
Mmhuhh...
[...He has to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Yoshiki will be able to hear him sucking in some saliva. So damn much. Link's skin feels like the sound of crackling fat on a sizzling hunk of meat. His breathing, still, has all the wet anticipation of rainclouds.
He didn't actually know it would feel that good to hear. Didn't know it would slither into his own fibers. Didn't know it would rearrange something inside him until bundles of tender nerves slip along each other like tectonic plates, causing earthquakes in his chemical makeup and his cosmic one too, as if the overwhelming delight to hear Yoshiki's words has been made sensual manifest. Like, it feels good. Yoshiki's voice, Yoshiki's throat, the way the final word came from a place beyond--outside of, profoundly within--Yoshiki's throat... The quality of his voice was so like the quality of the monster's own voice that Link wonders if this is why guys like masturbation so much.
Link's breathing is a little shaky, and so is his hand when he tucks it against his own void of a belly. He's glad, then, that Yoshiki did get something to EAT. EAT. EAT. EAT.
--Link blinks his eyes rapidly. Was that him? Was that him, or Yoshiki? Like--he knows what the gnawing is. He knows that the feeling of emptiness without reprieve can be his sometimes. He knows what it is to be starving. But was that...his? And even if it's his, why can't he tell?
Because we're mixed. We're all mixed up in each other. Being far away does underscore how close they really are now. They share nervous systems. They share the breadth of the other side. Or--they're getting there. To a point where Yoshiki can still be himself, individually himself, while still never having to be apart. I'm here! said Link, in its way like a wish. Well, why couldn't he make it at least a little real?
At last he collects himself enough to speak.] I'm glad. Super glad. I'm super really fucking glad. [He's breathing like Yoshiki did something to him. Like Yoshiki touched him just now, be it mean or sweet.] I want... to try something cool. Yoshiki, can I?
no subject
Yoshiki misses him so. damn. m ]
Mmhuhh...
[...He has to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Yoshiki will be able to hear him sucking in some saliva. So damn much. Link's skin feels like the sound of crackling fat on a sizzling hunk of meat. His breathing, still, has all the wet anticipation of rainclouds.
He didn't actually know it would feel that good to hear. Didn't know it would slither into his own fibers. Didn't know it would rearrange something inside him until bundles of tender nerves slip along each other like tectonic plates, causing earthquakes in his chemical makeup and his cosmic one too, as if the overwhelming delight to hear Yoshiki's words has been made sensual manifest. Like, it feels good. Yoshiki's voice, Yoshiki's throat, the way the final word came from a place beyond--outside of, profoundly within--Yoshiki's throat... The quality of his voice was so like the quality of the monster's own voice that Link wonders if this is why guys like masturbation so much.
Link's breathing is a little shaky, and so is his hand when he tucks it against his own void of a belly. He's glad, then, that Yoshiki did get something to EAT. EAT. EAT. EAT.
--Link blinks his eyes rapidly. Was that him? Was that him, or Yoshiki? Like--he knows what the gnawing is. He knows that the feeling of emptiness without reprieve can be his sometimes. He knows what it is to be starving. But was that...his? And even if it's his, why can't he tell?
Because we're mixed. We're all mixed up in each other. Being far away does underscore how close they really are now. They share nervous systems. They share the breadth of the other side. Or--they're getting there. To a point where Yoshiki can still be himself, individually himself, while still never having to be apart. I'm here! said Link, in its way like a wish. Well, why couldn't he make it at least a little real?
At last he collects himself enough to speak.] I'm glad. Super glad. I'm super really fucking glad. [He's breathing like Yoshiki did something to him. Like Yoshiki touched him just now, be it mean or sweet.] I want... to try something cool. Yoshiki, can I?