poe breathes a shaky sigh, hands curled tight in the fabric of nyx’s starbucks shirt. their arms are wrapped around his neck, and he can feel their fingers absent-mindedly playing with his hair, touch so gentle, corners of their lips tilted up as they ask how badly do you want me? like they aren’t testing his resolve by pressing up against him, batting their eyelashes, bringing so much attention to that pretty little mouth of theirs.
the closet space is cramped. there’s forgotten fishing rods, a bucket overturned, a mop blocking the door after poe had knocked into it, pushed into the dark space by nyx. how badly does he want them? his hands uncurl, digits finding an anchor in their waist instead, pulling their hips flush against his, grinds into them for a brief spell just to show nyx how badly he wants them. for a moment, the sensation is almost too much, but he pushes through. dips his head, brushes his lips against theirs. ❝ so fucking bad, ❞ he whispers, and it comes out needier than he’d like desperate, even. ❝ think i’ll just about die if you don’t put your mouth on me in the next thirty seconds. ❞