loosestrifes: (1)
화이 ⚘ ᴀɴssɪ ᴇsɪᴋᴋᴏ ᴋɪᴇʟᴏ ʙʟᴏᴇᴍʀᴏsᴇ ([personal profile] loosestrifes) wrote in [personal profile] conspecifics 2024-04-27 11:39 pm (UTC)

( The next moments are both an eternity and a flash. Esikko is being flooded with his own memories, though he can't recognize them as such. They feel like vivid hallucinations of what could have been. Blood, time and time again, and Kirma's tired face. The contrast of colors excites him each time, but each time, he's left empty. He doesn't want to feel this emptiness right now.

With added exertion, he's able to slice through the last of flesh and bone. The hand falls to the ground with a horrifying thump, and Esikko drops the knife along with it, pressing himself immediately into Kirma's arms. Their bodies are both hot, though Kirma's threatens to lose heat the more he fades, and so Esi kisses him hard, his bloodied hands moving to tear at the cloth blocking his way and find Kirma's length. He's not sure how hard he can make him like this, if it's even possible— but he strokes him all the same, his breath labored as he kisses harder, deeper, his own hips thrusting forward for the hope of some sort of friction.

Desperation is matched in his free hand now clamping over the bloodied stump of Kirma's arm, half an attempt to stop the flow, and half just to appreciate the feeling of it. Raw, wet, warm. )

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