[ A rough hand slaps across his own mouth to curb the scream ready to rip from his throat. The adrenaline of terror without any of the fear rockets through him, heart thunderous and fine hairs standing on end. This is someone he knows too well; a man doesn’t forget the first person to grab his dick. Genya stares, eyes large and adam’s apple quivering, at the culprit of a months long sexuality crisis who had then flounced off without taking any responsibility for it. It’s been a long time.
Yet here he is now. Inky hair falls across wheat skin and white sheets in dizzying contrast. The noise that rumbles from the other man hikes Genya’s pulse in a way that has him teetering toward the edge of the bed, putting distance between them. A strange emotion wells, one between wanting to touch him gently and choke the life out of him, a conundrum of temporary paralysis.
Pride won’t allow him to leave. It’s his room, goddamn it, and he won’t let some frighteningly hot guy send him running. Not this time.
One fluffy pillow rains down with hell’s (horny) fury upon the beguiling and haloed beauty. The compromise between tenderness and violence: beating him up, lightly. ]
Oi, oi! Wake up already, [ he doesn’t even pause before purposely butchering the other teen’s name—he can’t know that Genya’s thought about him so much that it’s been well-carved into his memory even after all this time, ] Getou Subooboo. What the hell are you doin’ here!?
[ Nice. This is definitely how you’re supposed to treat people you have an angry, unwanted crush on. ]
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Yet here he is now. Inky hair falls across wheat skin and white sheets in dizzying contrast. The noise that rumbles from the other man hikes Genya’s pulse in a way that has him teetering toward the edge of the bed, putting distance between them. A strange emotion wells, one between wanting to touch him gently and choke the life out of him, a conundrum of temporary paralysis.
Pride won’t allow him to leave. It’s his room, goddamn it, and he won’t let some frighteningly hot guy send him running. Not this time.
One fluffy pillow rains down with hell’s (horny) fury upon the beguiling and haloed beauty. The compromise between tenderness and violence: beating him up, lightly. ]
Oi, oi! Wake up already, [ he doesn’t even pause before purposely butchering the other teen’s name—he can’t know that Genya’s thought about him so much that it’s been well-carved into his memory even after all this time, ] Getou Subooboo. What the hell are you doin’ here!?
[ Nice. This is definitely how you’re supposed to treat people you have an angry, unwanted crush on. ]