... any more than I am always a pleasure to myself

- why are you feral for walnuts???

Thanks for asking me to share some writing, @boatcats! We are both toiling so worthily in the whump mines <3

He glances up and sees uncertainty in Ernesto's glare, the expression of someone who tested a boundary they've never tested before. It's oddly open - beseeching. The expression of a guilty kid in a line-up hoping to get caught, to be able to drop the act. Whatever Ernesto thinks he's asking for - a telling off, an agreement, a hot, quick response of any kind - Alex knows the real thing is just that he wants not to be in pain. He wants to sleep and wake up feeling fine, that's all a body wants at this point, and Alex is the bogeyman denying that to him. He's a man Alex knows to be disciplined and strong, a master of his body and its abilities who is probably having a really shitty time being confronted with his limits… As if on cue, Ernesto's muscles spasm in his arm and his elbow sags wearily towards his leg. Alex shifts his grip automatically, the hand that was dabbing at the wound moving to cup the joint and lower it gently, with a squeeze, until it rests against the blanket. Alex looks at his thumb seated in a groove of sinew and bone and concentrates in order to feel the temperature of Ernesto's skin - still not warm, but no longer icy. "I've got you," he murmurs, eyes still down, his brows tight.

I feel like this fic has become too unwieldy to really allow my Clarity of Vision to come through, but I'm determined to draw it together, I really am.