eternalforce:

       ‘ Yet you insist anyways. ‘

Chest hammers, a rare thing when he is so used to danger, so accustomed
to a state of nothing when in the face of overwhelming odds && ferocious battles.
Hands shake as he is pulled closer, skin aflame where each mirrored touch is
placed. It sears him, brands && marks him for this beautiful, awful, dangerous
thing. Heart lurches for the other, hands now grasping as if desperate upon him,
exploring what has always been forbidden, yet makes him whole.

                          ‘           Thexan. ‘

                      It is breathed shallowly, throat too tight to emit a louder plead.
    The bite ignites his blood, yet soothes his soul, body rising to meet the other,
    meet he who has always been there, has always been the better half. Friend,
    brother       lover. It sends trickling cold down his spine, forces the heat to
    grow hotter between their lips, their skin. He’s falling, dying, as he succumbs
    to it, allows this thing to consume not only him, but Thexan as well.

                    And instead of forgiveness, he seeks more.

                                  Body flows against him, moving slowly as if to revel
in the chance to touch. Scars that do not mirror his own, smooth skin where
battle && death should reign; familiar, yet foreign all the same.

             He growls, hungry, against their lips.
                                     ‘ Only fools keep me waiting. ‘

       ‘ then be glad i am no FOOL. ’ 

                  his kiss is imbued with a coy SMILE, breath coming rough & stuttering against the salty skin he knows so well. & o’, he thinks himself a HEDONIST, set alight with the thrill of it ––– but it only tightens his grip, adds oxygen to the wildfire tearing through every fiber of his being. 

       ( & he wouldn’t give it up for the world. ) 

                     lips dip lower, slow & decisive, peppering the pale expanse of jaw, then neck ––– each pressed carefully like a BRAND, tooth & tongue burning hot as iron. he CHASES the feeling like a dying man ; were this his last night to claim air in his lungs, he’d wish for nothing more than that breath to form his brother’s name once more, so familiar & PERFECT. 

                     ‘ –––––––––––––– i want you. ‘ 

                 low tones do not need volume to prove their CONVICTION, eyes half-lidded & fixed on his twin –– & the rest of the world ceases to EXIST in that moment, love & desire turning it all to ASH in comparison to the one he holds most dear.