[ Steve's rejection echoes in his ears, but an echo is all it is to him. It may be firmly rooted in his mind, but it finds no footing in Aoba's. Mentally he's about ready to close Steve out. He presses down on the connection as much as he can, but that large presence makes it difficult to cut him off.
Nirad is right to worry - he's in no condition to be using Scrap again so soon. However much he enjoys pain and spreading it, there's only so much a mind can take. But the idea is planted, and he'll settle for that much. From the darkness of the bedroom Aoba slides his hands up the length of Nirad's arms. Delicately, his fingers trace the outline of his shoulders and neck before coming to rest at the edges of his jaw. Aoba can better hold him in his gaze, like this.
no subject
[ Steve's rejection echoes in his ears, but an echo is all it is to him. It may be firmly rooted in his mind, but it finds no footing in Aoba's. Mentally he's about ready to close Steve out. He presses down on the connection as much as he can, but that large presence makes it difficult to cut him off.
Nirad is right to worry - he's in no condition to be using Scrap again so soon. However much he enjoys pain and spreading it, there's only so much a mind can take. But the idea is planted, and he'll settle for that much. From the darkness of the bedroom Aoba slides his hands up the length of Nirad's arms. Delicately, his fingers trace the outline of his shoulders and neck before coming to rest at the edges of his jaw. Aoba can better hold him in his gaze, like this.
His yellow gaze.
A light drawing a lost ship to shore. ]
I want is to help.
Destroy.
And help.