[His skin's still stinging, the muscle underneath still flexing in response to nails dragging down, when Joseph pulls him close. It makes him gasp, although it's almost impossible for him to differentiate what sounds are his and what sounds aren't, because it's so hard to focus. It's so hard, and it feels so pointless. What does it matter? If he makes a sound, it's because Joseph made it happen; if Joseph does, it's because of him. They're the only people here, the only people who matter. So yeah. Yeah, it doesn't matter. He doesn't have to care.]
[That's the thing, that's it. He doesn't have to care. He can feel whatever he feels, want whatever he wants, and it's fine, it's not bad, maybe even good. You can do anything you want, he'd said, and So can you, that's what Joseph said in return. So he doesn't have to worry.]
[For once, he doesn't have to worry about anything.]
[So he doesn't. He pushes himself forward with his heels against the cabinets until he's balanced on the very edge of the counter, leaning into Joseph with every ounce of his desire, fierce and insistent and wanting. Joseph is strong. He doesn't have to worry about protecting him or keeping him safe. He doesn't have to be afraid of letting go. Of anything.]
[Mine, he thinks, and the word feels like a snarl in the back of his mind as he kisses Joseph like he wants to eat him alive. My Jojo, mine.]
no subject
[That's the thing, that's it. He doesn't have to care. He can feel whatever he feels, want whatever he wants, and it's fine, it's not bad, maybe even good. You can do anything you want, he'd said, and So can you, that's what Joseph said in return. So he doesn't have to worry.]
[For once, he doesn't have to worry about anything.]
[So he doesn't. He pushes himself forward with his heels against the cabinets until he's balanced on the very edge of the counter, leaning into Joseph with every ounce of his desire, fierce and insistent and wanting. Joseph is strong. He doesn't have to worry about protecting him or keeping him safe. He doesn't have to be afraid of letting go. Of anything.]
[Mine, he thinks, and the word feels like a snarl in the back of his mind as he kisses Joseph like he wants to eat him alive. My Jojo, mine.]