[kavinsky's head pitches back under the sweet brunt of kurt's kisses, like a damsel swooning under the power of her lover's passion. which is
funnily accurate, gender stuff aside. kavinsky had had a good run of the orgy the other month— in general, getting laid isn't exactly kavinsky's problem. but there's sex, and then there's sex with feelings, and then there's sex with feelings that he lets himself actually observe and feel to the truer depth of their intensity, and that is rare and far in between. it's easy for him to get naked with people as far as stripping off his jeans and underwear and shirt— nakedness in the other sense, well.
that turns in a whole other universe. and kurt is standing there in the threshold, holding the keys. holding out the keys to him. it's terrifying, but kavinsky is too fresh out of one kind of pain to remember his usual fear of the others. all he can think to do is say,] I am, [in a silly, boyish, incoherent mumble against kurt's bloody blue mouth,] 'lso there's some-- [kiss. kiss, kiss,] —fine print on, [kiss,] my blood, but [kiss.
kiss. but. but he'll finish that sentence in a moment, maybe, when they're done panting burnt vampire fumes into each others' mouths and have come back to rest, forehead against forehead, in the quiet sanctity of kurt's bedroom.]
no subject
funnily accurate, gender stuff aside. kavinsky had had a good run of the orgy the other month— in general, getting laid isn't exactly kavinsky's problem. but there's sex, and then there's sex with feelings, and then there's sex with feelings that he lets himself actually observe and feel to the truer depth of their intensity, and that is rare and far in between. it's easy for him to get naked with people as far as stripping off his jeans and underwear and shirt— nakedness in the other sense, well.
that turns in a whole other universe. and kurt is standing there in the threshold, holding the keys. holding out the keys to him. it's terrifying, but kavinsky is too fresh out of one kind of pain to remember his usual fear of the others. all he can think to do is say,] I am, [in a silly, boyish, incoherent mumble against kurt's bloody blue mouth,] 'lso there's some-- [kiss. kiss, kiss,] —fine print on, [kiss,] my blood, but [kiss.
kiss. but. but he'll finish that sentence in a moment, maybe, when they're done panting burnt vampire fumes into each others' mouths and have come back to rest, forehead against forehead, in the quiet sanctity of kurt's bedroom.]