miser

[Latin-wretched; idiom: lovesick]
i want to touch you
c
u
r
v
e
my hands around your body
hold you pin you down
keep you there against me
warm wet mouths sliding down and around
and a sweet kiss pressed to skin against
skin
whisper quiet “love you”
hear it back
and smile

like breath for breath

lean back against his shoulder and smile, his scent engulfing you, curling around your body just like his arms are wrapped around you, holding you tight. and you lean back and nibble his jaw.

you rattle my bones

wander the house, restless and freezing. so cold you’re shaking but blankets aren’t enough to keep you warm you miss the human warmth he gives.
and you glance down and there’s a hole in your sock and you know he’s got to be asleep or doing chores he would have told you last night if he were going somewhere and hell you just miss him.
last night hearing his voice just wasn’t enough you want to be able to press against him, have his scent envelop you
and every time you hear a knock at the door some part of your heart leaps and hopes it’ll be him but it never is
and you hope one day it will be

you spike my blood

{want}
to take it offline
to feel your hands against my skin
[warm and wanting]

{want}
to kiss you
to feel your lips on mine
[wet and desperate]

{want}
to wrap my arms around you
to pull you close
[sweet and inviting]

{want}
to say
you’re mine
[i’m yours]

stuffed myself sick of you

want to tie you up with twizzlers, cover you in caramel, gag you with gumdrops, slather you in syrup
and then
want to kiss you, lick you, press my teeth to your skin and peel off the caramel, want to slowly slide a twizzler in and watch it disappear inch by inch into your greedy mouth
and then
want to pull you close and smother you with sweet candy-coated kisses

you have a place in my heart

i press my lips to yours and hope you can’t feel me shaking (from the cold no never) and you smile and i’m still shaking and you bury your hand into my hair and tug and press me against your warm body and
you
kiss
me
back.

i know we’re broken

your mouths are on each other and his hands are pressing against your back like they belong there (and maybe they do but you can’t think straight right now) and they’re holding you up and you manage to gasp out a request to move to somewhere other than the hallway (and his hands are warm against your skin and you shiver despite it all) and he shoves you down on the couch, hands roaming your body like you’re a statue made out of glass and gold (but you’re not fragile it’s not your body that couldwould shatter at just a touch) and your fingers are fumbling with his shirt buttons and he’s warm and all you can do is gaze at him (and yeah yeah somedays-mostdays-you still can’t believe can’t even imagine-nevercould-didn’t think it could ever happen) and he chuckles, laying his hands over yours and and both of your shirts are off and he smiles and oh man you swore you wouldn’t cry (does it always end this way? and your hands are shaking under his) and he’s pulling you close against his chest and your hands are curled around his shoulders and your face is buried in the crook of his neck (like it belongs there and maybe maybe it does).

my thoughts are soaked with the spill of you

He’s sprawled out on your bed, thighs covered in bronze hairs and you’re shaking softly at all this and hoping he doesn’t notice. It’s been months since you’ve started this thing-and when it was online full of emoticons in place of phrases and groaning gasping noises in private in the dark in tandem-you could handle it, could say it was just online.
But then then he started taking it offline and you rolled with it and you were(are) head over heels. And the emoticons turned into shy smiles and fond glances and your fingers were tangled together and his scent was filling up your lungs. And the groaning gasping whining pleading noises got a little louder and you were rocking against his hand now, it was his warm hand between your legs and
somedays you can’t handle this somedays you want to go back to when everything was sure and full of sharp corners and not this nebulous twisty wonderful labyrinth you’ve found yourself in. But in this one, there’s no golden thread to guide you, your Ariadne’s got a fuzzy red beard and dorky t-shirts and you’re both too scared (or broken) to mention the monster lurking in the center.
But he’s there, lurking in the center, and you can feel him every time he looks at you with that fond smile and drags you against his chest and holds you there and it feels so nice in his arms, every time he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you you want to whine and pull him in close for a proper kiss but your mother’s watching (and like Juno she’s suspicious of how close you two are) so you can’t and he won’t
(waiting like Argus up on the hill except you’re not sure he’s seeing everything).
At least.
Not yet.

as long as it’s about me

we’re really kinda stupidly adorably dorky, he realizes right after your dick’s been in his mouth and your fingers have stroked and thrusted and just fucking petted every nook and cranny of his body. he’s not sure what prompted this-blaming that post-orgasmic dazed hazy bliss seems to work for every other stupid thing he’s ever told you soithinkimightloveyou. thingsfeelbetterwithyourarmsaroundme. idontwantyoutoleave. pleasedontleaveme. idontthinkicouldsurvivethat. imsorryimsorryimsorry.
and he wishes he could just be gagged all the time because seriously his mouth just needs to stop.saying.stuff.like.that.
and it all comes out in a mumbled muddled mess because his brain’s finally caught up with his mouth but he can still hear the words
actuallyidontthinkiloveyou. ido.
and he’s terrified that you’re gonna make him repeat it (you’ve got ways to do that, you do you do, don’t even need your hands just look at him twice and baby baby he’ll spill all his secrets)
imsorry.imsorry.imsorry.
and his eyes are squeezed shut and if he thought someone up there would be listening he’d be down on his knees again praying and your fingers wind in his hair and curl around his hip and tug him flush and flushing against you and you press a kiss to his lips and when he opens his eyes finally he’s shaking and shivering and stammering out
imsorry.imsorry.ifuckedupagain.nowiknowyouregonnaleave.youwerethebestthingieverhad. ohpleasepleasedontleaveme.
and you kiss him again and there’s no need for words between you two now and you’ve managed to say everything you’ve wanted to with two lips and a tongue.

in a fantasy i dream awake

you lie together on that couch, fingers tangled together, your face buried into his chest, not an inch between you, every fiber of your being coated in his scent but somehow somehow it’s not enough, this glorious blissful warmth just isn’t enough and briefly you wish you could get under his skin, worm your way into a vein, squeeze yourself into his capillaries, arrange yourself around his organs slipperyslick with his blood, drape yourself against his brain, soaking every inch of him. you wish you could get inside his skin just once so
he could see what it’s like
to be you.