[since his latest ~breakup~, kavinsky's libido has come and gone. he'd thought initially perhaps that vampirism had fixed it, but he proved to be more like himself than he'd wanted afterward. unhappy dreams, he replaced with ruminations. liquor and reckless driving and shooting guns, he'd replaced with blood and running in the dark, testing the limits of his power.
the incubus' power feels good. it feels like himself— the parts of himself that he's ever cared to acknowledge, anyway. mindless fun, power over people and nightmares and death itself. he likes the rush, he likes the crunch. he opens his eyes when zeke's hand closes on his ass, his tongue poking visibly through the wall of his own cheek, tasting what's left of the older man in his mouth. his stare is focused.] Yeah, [he says.] But if you wanna push me around and call me 'faggot' a couple times, that could be fun too.
tw homophobic language
the incubus' power feels good. it feels like himself— the parts of himself that he's ever cared to acknowledge, anyway. mindless fun, power over people and nightmares and death itself. he likes the rush, he likes the crunch. he opens his eyes when zeke's hand closes on his ass, his tongue poking visibly through the wall of his own cheek, tasting what's left of the older man in his mouth. his stare is focused.] Yeah, [he says.] But if you wanna push me around and call me 'faggot' a couple times, that could be fun too.