no one is there.

of course you always want to kiss the love of your life... but you always get worried about him after a match...

instead of a giggle there's a needy, keening sort of desperate whine that escapes your throat when he ruts up against you, your brows furrowing in the pleasure of the friction - the pleasure of having him close. maybe this is why you tend to lean towards being in control; when you aren't, you get embarrassed ( as you are now, cheeks flushing and ears burning - though the self-consciousness isn't the only cause of all that heat in your face and body ). so aware of how any touch he gives makes your head fuzzy and eyes half lidded and unfocused, and all you want to do is give and let him take and take and take. maybe that's always there to an extent, if you're being honest with yourself. you always find yourself wet and wanting and aching just standing near him, something that started definitely Too Early On, the timeline of it something you don't think you'll ever truly admit to him out loud. surely a part of him knows.

your body jolts when you feel his warm hand sliding up between your legs, the softness of your flesh trembling and twitching as you fight the urge to clamp your thighs around his hand - somewhat in shyness, mostly in the desire to keep him there. this is right where both of you belong, you think. strange and lewd as it might seem, you think you'd be content to exist as his strange sweet monster that he toys with however and whenever he wants. the thought makes you feel safe and warm and sweet, and you shiver.

maybe this mutual need, desperate and consuming, is why it would be a bad idea to give him half your soul. surely the need and devotion and hunger you have for one another, laid bare for the other to feel and climb back and forth between the two of you, would consume you both more than it already does. it's still not reason enough to you. you want to give it to him. you want him to want it and keep it safe and not be able to hide from him at all. you want him to want the same. not as a means to control each other. to see and be fully seen by - and to be wanted and loved all the same.

entangled and intertwined, two souls upon each other clashing together in a sprawl of limbs and labored breaths and blood. her eagerness felt by the wetness coating your fingers, dripping with it, salivating at the mouth to taste her upon your tongue. so you do, pulling your hand away from the most inner part of her so you can lap at your own fingers this time, taste her within your mouth, this addictive lewdness that has you wanting more, wanting everything she can give you. there is no limit to what you want; her blood, her cum, her flesh, her spit. everything, anything, inside your mouth, consumed and swallowed to nestle inside of your body, reside in your organs and intestines for you and you only, encased by your flesh and bones.

then your hand reaching down to fumble with belt, too fixated on her to really focus your attention on the task, struggling with it for a few moments before you finally manage to undo it, pulling it from the belt loops and tossing the thing carelessly onto the floor, the metal clinging as it collides with the ground below. " i love you, " spills out of your mouth, becoming almost a chant by the way you keep reiterating it. you say it again, again, again. you know she knows you do but there's this physical need, this unexplainable desire to reiterate it until your throat bleeds and your mouth can no longer form any words other than this. you love her and you're so lucky to have her, especially now, especially like this.

fingers fumble with the button of your slacks, undoing it with one hand and pulling them down (boxers along with it), having to lift her and you up a little to shimmy them down your thighs, enough to free your cock. it's hard and reddened, yearning for her, leaking at the tip. only then does your chanting end, lifting your hands up to caress her face gently, contrasting the blood and the inherent violence that began this (along with your thoughts of consuming, your plaguing desire to eat and love and protect). " you'll be good for me, right? " you ask, trembling petals of words, sprouting like spring, coated in this overwhelming need.

hand shifting, always moving; they find their way down to her hips, moving her, slowing inserting your cock inside, going so agonizingly slow then, suddenly, pushing her hips down as you move yours upwards, a harsh thrust to fully envelop her. neediness overtakes, face falling forward into the crook of her neck, teeth scraping skin with every breath. it's perfection, exactly that and nothing more. the heat is all encompassing, like it's melting you, like it's securing you two together. you could stay forever like this, there would be no complaints from you. maybe at some point, the two of you would blend into one another, forming some kind of singular being, mended and conjoined into something beautiful to you both but grotesque to everyone else.

One more minute

ACTIONS.

sender shows up on receiver's porch with a six pack.

sender and receiver sit on the tailgate watching a storm roll in.

sender crawls through receiver's window.

sender and receiver float on the river, passing a beer back and forth.

sender "accidentally" sprays receiver with the hose while washing their truck.

sender picks up receiver on the side of the road after their car dies.

sender and receiver hide behind a shed while cops break up the party.

sender and receiver steal road signs for no reason except boredom.

sender and receiver set off fireworks in a field.

sender brings home a stray animal.

sender bails receiver out of jail.

sender and receiver get caught in a downpour.

sender and receiver broken down on the side of the road.

sender and receiver jump into the creek on a hot day.

receiver teaches sender how to drive stick.

sender and receiver share a cigarette in the parking lot after sunday church.

sender drags receiver away from someone who's about to start a fight.

sender brings receiver a plate loaded with food they didn't ask for at a cookout.

sender and receiver run from an angry ex/parent/etc.

receiver teaches sender how to fish.

sender and receiver slow dance barefoot in the yard.

sender and receiver drive the backroads late at night, laughing and blaring music.

sender and receiver take a boat onto the lake.

sender and receiver sit around a bonfire.

sender and receiver break into the abandoned mill for fun.

sender and receiver sneak away from the barbecue to smoke behind the shed.

sender and receiver get stuck at the top of the ferris wheel.

sender offers receiver their jacket when the night gets cold.

sender and receiver tailgate together before a game.

sender and receiver watch fireworks from the back of a truck.

sender wins receiver a stuffed animal at the county fair.

USFW.

sender and receiver skinny dip after dark.

sender and receiver have sex in the bed of a truck.

sender drags ice cubes over receiver's skin.

sender and receiver share a cold shower to try and beat the heat.

receiver is supposed to be securing the strings of sender's bikini, but begins untying them instead.

sender and receiver can't wait to get home and pull over on the side of a dirt road.

sender and receiver sneak into the bathroom of a bar.

sender and receiver share a popsicle.

sender and receiver get hot and heavy on the hood of a car.

receiver applies sender's sunscreen.

receiver slips their hand between sender's thighs while driving.

sender gives receiver road head.

sender traces receiver's more intimate tan lines.

sender and receiver have sex by a bonfire burning high.

sender and receiver sneak away to hook up somewhere quiet at the county fair.

receiver bends sender over the hood of their car and hikes up their sundress.

He wants,　desperately,　to think of it as nothing,　to brush it off as incidental blip in his daily routine.　Never a need for concern,　no matter hydraulic press weight pinning his chest in on itself;　the worst of his symptoms seem to have already passed him by,　and Dae-ho can only hope to himself that any external manifestation was not too overt.　Still,　the shift in demeanor is drastic,　newfound hunch in his shoulders to shrink himself down and away,　eyes that are dead in their glimmering light,　void of typical vigor.　No matter the counter-pursuit,　he is a shell of himself.　

the impact causes the table to quiver, shaking like the residual vibrations of an earthquake, deadly and oh so dangerous. your chair scrapes against the floor as you move back on childhood reflex, fear embedding itself into the walls of your heart and mind, that dripping trepidation spilling into your bloodstream. immediately, an automatic response engrained into from the years of similar occurrences, your head shifts down and you apologize with a voice too hearty for its own good, evidence of the times she's made you repeat yourself with a clearer, louder voice. " i'm sorry, " you say, hands resting in your lap. a pathetic thing, you are. truly, just like a pitiful roadkill that gets tossed some sympathy and forgotten two seconds later.