When Kasse Sejan saved Eoran Toriet from their squadmate’s heckling, his close-kept smirk knew too much. After Locke crawled out, summoned by their CO’s clockwork rotation of vigils through the watchful night, Kasse regarded the med sergeant with a passing gaze, superficially unimpressed at the Med Sergeant’s continued teasing of his best friend. Locke cheesed a grin, wide and full of teeth—Locke was a good natured man, tough as a battering ram but with soft inner bits. That affable man doomed to yearn didn’t know: reminiscence only fed the persistence of heartache. With the car door shut and the soft murmur of conversation barely audible through Brint’s cracked window, Kasse slid into the packed earth,
immediately too close
magnetized to Eoran’s silent thrall.
“We’ve got two hours before he rotates again,” Kasse whispered, eyes bright despite the dark, like they’d maintained the reflection of the cigarette he’d snuffed just before crawling into 18C’s makeshift bed. Already he’d found his way through sleeping bag, through fatigues, searched out his friend’s body heat in skin to skin grasping, firm along the hip. “I missed you. Sorry you had to wait.”
“Gods, I missed you—” Eoran breathed into the smoke-touched lips of his lover, hands wringing the collar ’round Kasse’s neck to pull that boy ever closer, into the quiet fury that awaited him. “I thought he’d never shut up.” He could have been speaking about either of the men they’d been preoccupied with but, for convenience’s sake, he was probably griping about both.
18C was a rush of kisses, like two hours would never be enough time to calm the inferno of his persistent desire, like he was already trying to catch up on a backlog of affection.
Maybe it was something about being made to wait,
or maybe there was something inherently discomfiting in being around the stifling loneliness of another
that exacerbated his own neediness and longing
for that diaphanous body he always sought to spread against himself.
“If you’re tired, don’t let me keep you up…” Even Eoran didn’t know how those barely whispered words could survive—not when the lips that spoke them worked in direct contradiction to their message.
“Shutup,” Kasse hushed on a growl, soothing in its promise of violence as he weathered the assault he so recklessly courted. The fricative ease of his voice slid from mongrel growl to alleycat purr, decisive, taunting. “Like you ever let me sleep without sending me off yourself.”
Already, 18B was picking apart buckles, buttons, all locks chronic with his tenacity the key. He pulled at 18C’s waistband till he could feel Eo pressed hard against his fly. “So don’t you fuck with me, Eoran Toriet,” he sighed like heartbreak on his velveteen hustle, barely audible, catecholamine toxic, so seratonin concise. “Just fuck me.”
“Ooh, talking with the CO made you testy.” Eoran’s words were a hum deep in his throat, deviant and corrosive, rust flecks tarnishing his every salacious susurration’s silver slide; excited and deplorable, a tentative temptation teetering on the edge of their duplicitous frustration. He twisted briefly aside. Eo allowed himself to grab a fistful of the silken liner bunched at his back—kicked off in his earlier annoyance with their squad-mate—and pulled it over the both of them, like it would offer their solicitations any privacy whatsoever.
“I think it’s so fucking hot when you smell like sweat and smoke—” he said into Kasse’s jaw, teeth scraped along his line of bone dressed in a layer of thin skin, “When you play with my uniform like it’s any fucking obstacle for you.”
The engineering sergeant shifted just enough to slip his hand between his lover’s thighs, tender attentions antithetical to his careless vituperation, a prelude to his haphazard denuding.
“Hurry up and get in my bones. I’ve been watching the way you hold your rifle all day and it’s given me a head full of atrocities—I’m going to fuck you and your dreams when I send you to sleep.”
“Mm, you like watching me clean my weapon, 18C?” 18B slurred, hands following the path of wrist bones, of calloused fingerpads trying the impatience of his inguen, sciatic whispers brackish and heady in shameless vulgarism. The ghost was always caught in the stutter of his joy when Eo admitted to watching him, to observing him when that raffish thing thought himself alone.
Even as he was drawn out, 18B turned, coy shoulderblades to his lover’s takeover collarbones so he could keep a steady vigil of the stillness outside. He pushed at his waistband, cloying about his hips, desperate and despicable in his immediate want, his demand for immediate gratification already too long delayed.
From the coaxing of capitulation, Kasse trespassed Eoran’s surface temperature till he found the arrogate fever he loved to fucking break.
Come on, Eo,
his breathing a wreck,
his voice in between.
Disassemble in order of operation:
pull the cotter, twist the cam
rip the firing pin from my bolt
like you’re not gonna put me
back together, leave
me dysfunctional,
extractor exposed—
oh gods, eo, fuck you
take me the fuck apart.
Eoran enveloped that boy like an ambush
and held him tight like a treasure.
In the midst of their aggression he was terminally adoring, ebb & flow frame always overflowing with a struggle of oppositions, always trying to make some ill-considered determination between asperity and ardor. He closed his eyes into the sun-sand swathe of uniform keeping the intricacies of Kasse’s spine away from him, breathed deep and exhaled—
hot and
bothered
habile and
bothering
the milky terrain laid before him, against him, in constant perusal corrupted by his fear of letting go, his cartographer’s intent twined with so much sentimentality; he was covetous like a fly seeking the hidden honey of his lover’s redgash heart.
I’m going to wreck you.
Eoran was so absorbed in the undertow of love gratuitously glanced when they were unable to drown in each other’s touch,
in the bend of lips that met him and held him at bay
in the lines that knew exactly how to lead him astray.
He knew that body so well now, but always touched him like it was the first fucking time—novel, new, obsessed.
Leave you broken, in disarray.
He was nectar in the curve of his lover’s basal night, double digit slick in spit-stained obtrusion, his other hand tense along the topography of his captured boy’s throat.
Don’t make a fucking sound.
Impatient thing snapped them together like an obscene puzzle assembled while blind, forsaking sidereal glee for the sloe abyss of their perilous copulation—sleek hand to hip, hips jutting until they met the skin of his back in deliberate measure. Eoran was slow and careful and enraptured, as though their pieces were never meant to be apart.
that black clover boy was ever endangered
by eoran’s sequential threat of exposures. he
couldn’t deny
couldn’t decline
couldn’t swallow
the involuntary yelps his body sang out
so he sought Eoran’s asphixiate fingers declensing his
thyroid
cricoid
hyoid
and fellated a mandible gag order he fashioned for his jawline alone.
Fingerprints held hard against the floor of the ghost’s respite mouth, his
carnivore bite was vengeful, retaliatory, demanding. His abstracts sought
broken skin, ligament taste, insatiate and tenuous and challenging
when he blew index and middle to the a4 pulley, wild and wan in
catastrophe’s longing—like that captured thing was upset he
couldn’t howl his taking to the whole fucking camp.
He knew his body so well now, but always accepted him like it was the first fucking time—excrutiating, dire, vital.
Eyes screwed shut with his head bowed, free-hand fist wrapped tight in disheveled boxing tape bedroll, Kasse let a barely audible threadbare whine escape captivity.
Keep me silent—
I can’t stay quiet when you’re so fucking
ravenous, when you fuck me
like i’m yours, when you
fuck me like you been
waiting all day for
a car crash.
F U C K F U C K F U C K
F U C K F U C K F U C K
F U C K F U C K F U C K
Eoran was reverberations and clasped recoil, raunchy resilience, struck by shots fired along the bow of his meandering acquisition. He was tensedtightatangle tangential angle acute like 34 10 1, 5 17 20—a pained, salacious sigh at the ghost’s back, breath dripping down his neck as though the navigator had been saving it for him all fucking day.
Is this ravenous?
Wounded wretch caught himself on the briar patch seeking to betray him, digits taut,
strained in a vindicatory swell
clutching all the pearls of his cuspid capture
his vice grip, his
bite—like some
bit
mapping glimmerless flecks of a darkdamp serum,
ivory drowned in the hadal night of their affection,
smearing iron and grenadine on the pillow of his lover’s tongue.
Fuck, Kasse
Is this ravenous?
Eo took his hand from Kasse’s hip and pressed it to his shoulder, pressed him into the ground—laid
him flat, toiled at his spine
naiant, dousing
devout
divine
dapocaginous in his
restless, relaxed roil.
| His weight in full, beneath a roof of chassis caked with grease and clay. His sway like summer, silent saunter, wicked swing. In. Out. In. O u t. |
Like this? Like I’m yours? You are, oh Kasse, you are. You can’t be anything else— like this like this l i k e t h i s |
i can’t say— can’t be told my tell in tells lapsed collapsed who am i but a giver who cums when you take this me that’s yours like this sharp-set consoled like this barely controlled like this please take fucksake take eoran fucking take i give i’ll give my give all gave let me be prey your prey, you fucking predator fox mouthed scavenger starving in the wastes come on and pray i pray i pray i pray interviso interse se say c’est I love you. |
he was ignorant of that semitertian prognosis that pinned him so tight convulsing siriasis in the throes of a psychogenic diagnosis in the hold of grim addiction eoran’s fabrefacient trespass was all that could cure him. “ah, please—” aaatos aao accompass all torn out he whimpered in waterclear vibrations barely snuck past their tangle of bones like a frightened animal— “ah—” stupid boys didn’t know that cleaved together just so, they weren’t a malady, but a divine melody elodie elodea unsaid unstaid unsteady “eoran,” kasse sighed on a tremble fever pitch where his heart gave way. “eo—” |
Eoran was
quickdraw tight on his splitflush lips when he
hissed
into his lover’s muscle memory
his vicious muzzle was too
tight, his grip like some bawdy galanty
gallantly tracing shapes, specter show
along the vapors of his lover’s being
a b s t r u s e
—abstract—
a b s t r u c k
black on black
night on nape
fingers to flesh
he possessed that boy through their communion skinsunk
euneirophrenic through his tissue,
woven ephemera against his bones in striptease streamers
casing the adjunct’s shape like a waking nightmare, that
sleep paralysis haint heady, helicographic
his displacement
hearsecloth tarnished with the necrotic ash
of his columbarium infatuation
soft in his sweetheart suffering
violent in his velour vacillations
mourning nothing but the moments just before
needing everything that was to
come
“—I—“
love you
he murmured
d i r e
“—I—“
love you
his hot stammer
d y i n g
“—Aiprinaya—“
I love you
when it met the elemental chill
in that boy below’s interstitial atmosphere
“—Kasse—“
he crawled through their striated existence
shifting sands of their smut-filled hourglass
ever tipping
always being toppled
by careless hands
too greedy to keep to themselves
“—Aiprinaya—”
I love you
into his ear, implanted in his brain
serving death his pestilence in their four horseman hideaway
kasse was
without a body
without a voice.
he, with his moments all
lysing, intersticing, left only
in the comfort of his marrow clot
dyings, his entreating capture
a whimper of repeats, for
aggression, by regression
scelerisque complete in
his grave ravaging
revisionist
vision
vis a
vis
ist
est
il
a
a
a
a
h
—!
“aiprinaya—” he mewled without breath
without thought, without will
autopilot hex of a tongue
a replay of every syllable
he could get his fucking
mouth around.
Don’t—
“—aiprinaya, eo—”
he etched his every howl into the sand
cursive blew till he couldn’t hear the
glass breaking beneath their CO’s
ignorant undercarriage,
hard and fast. Kasse
engaged his enabler
pressed his hand
tight against his
throat and
begged:
Kasse, don’t—
don’t stop, oh
gods, fuck
me like a
threat.
“—aiprinaya.”
Don’t say that if you
fucking please
make me
worth
it.
don’t know what it means.
It’s not my
usual blathering
pained and furious and
ravenous for your touch.
It’s really important
to me
It’s really important.