Bakasheep
Hufflepuff Heart
Hi. This will be a small out-of-context snippet of one of my (mxm) stories. It's something I personally like and am happy with, so I hope it is okay to share it here!
Here goes:
Here goes:
Control was an illusion. It was yanked from him the moment he bumped into this boy more than three months ago, and it was never returned to him. Only a shadow of it, only a flawed copy that pretended to be the original just to crumble in his hands every single time he reached for it.
Jack’s voice, Jack’s eyes, Jack’s warmth… His sole existence was something causing distortion in Scott’s world; it took the reality and bended and twisted until nothing but him made sense, until nothing but him could provide the oxygen to Scott’s lungs and ease the distress in his chest. And like a magnetic force, Scott was pulled to him, his entire soul rearranged to rotate around him, to fit into this new space and bleed through the leaks, way beyond the evasive concepts like control or rationality.
So when Jack asked for more, something in Scott tugged and pulled him forward, as if he was dream walking. Parted lips, melted silver, tangible expectation translated into rush in his veins, and a voice filled with undeniable lust, a hunger for more. How could he ever resist it? It was like a tide, sweeping him off the feet without ever giving him a chance to hold his ground, to go against it.
“Jack,” he whispered, and it came out as a whine layered with pure emotions that overflowed inside of him, the way there was never a real chance to step away, to stand down from this. And his voice slipped into even lower, quieter tones, as he formed words meant to be heard by a single person. “I love you.” A kiss instead of punctuation. A lack of full stop, no comma, but a theft of breath committed instead.
(...)
The heat pooled right beneath the surface of his skin, and when the kiss was broken, it was only so he could take a breath before kissing him again. Every little movement was charged with emotion, and he felt like he could go mad from how much he needed this, from how much he needed Jack.
And yet he was the one repeatedly bringing this boy down.
Tides mingled, rushed into each other until they collided. Colours mixed, seeping through, dripping below and painting a nonsensical picture of darkness and light. Sharp blades fell into cotton softness, and he was lost, lost, so lost in Jack, in his own heart, in this.
A tear slid down his cheek before he was even aware that his eyes were wet, and saltiness soaked into the kiss.
Green eyes opened to the world, a trembling breath like an offering to his body and mind to calm down as the kiss was brought to an abrupt end. He looked at Jack, right into his silver eyes, and he wanted to convey to him every unsaid meaning of this, of everything, of his whole universe. Open his soul wide and show him the secret corners.
Instead, another tear rolled down his cheek.
And control was still just an illusion, and it evaded him completely.
Jack’s voice, Jack’s eyes, Jack’s warmth… His sole existence was something causing distortion in Scott’s world; it took the reality and bended and twisted until nothing but him made sense, until nothing but him could provide the oxygen to Scott’s lungs and ease the distress in his chest. And like a magnetic force, Scott was pulled to him, his entire soul rearranged to rotate around him, to fit into this new space and bleed through the leaks, way beyond the evasive concepts like control or rationality.
So when Jack asked for more, something in Scott tugged and pulled him forward, as if he was dream walking. Parted lips, melted silver, tangible expectation translated into rush in his veins, and a voice filled with undeniable lust, a hunger for more. How could he ever resist it? It was like a tide, sweeping him off the feet without ever giving him a chance to hold his ground, to go against it.
“Jack,” he whispered, and it came out as a whine layered with pure emotions that overflowed inside of him, the way there was never a real chance to step away, to stand down from this. And his voice slipped into even lower, quieter tones, as he formed words meant to be heard by a single person. “I love you.” A kiss instead of punctuation. A lack of full stop, no comma, but a theft of breath committed instead.
(...)
The heat pooled right beneath the surface of his skin, and when the kiss was broken, it was only so he could take a breath before kissing him again. Every little movement was charged with emotion, and he felt like he could go mad from how much he needed this, from how much he needed Jack.
And yet he was the one repeatedly bringing this boy down.
Tides mingled, rushed into each other until they collided. Colours mixed, seeping through, dripping below and painting a nonsensical picture of darkness and light. Sharp blades fell into cotton softness, and he was lost, lost, so lost in Jack, in his own heart, in this.
A tear slid down his cheek before he was even aware that his eyes were wet, and saltiness soaked into the kiss.
Green eyes opened to the world, a trembling breath like an offering to his body and mind to calm down as the kiss was brought to an abrupt end. He looked at Jack, right into his silver eyes, and he wanted to convey to him every unsaid meaning of this, of everything, of his whole universe. Open his soul wide and show him the secret corners.
Instead, another tear rolled down his cheek.
And control was still just an illusion, and it evaded him completely.
