In some jealous benediction Max feels like there's this need to make sure the world sees Michael's mark as he looks at the blood that still drips from it. It's not the darkness of his grief from earlier, the disgust at what he did, the ingestion of what he loved-- it's the knowledge now that he could heal Michael but that he won't. He won't touch that mark, except to make it bigger, to play his fingers through it, smear himself with painted marks of blood.
Max can feel the sameness in his lover. He can look at Michael and know that the other would die the same holy death without making sure they wear their marks together. The need to taste, to know of the forbidden like this is just as strong. They make no provenance but their own, and spell no lines between them. With his shirt pulled from his body, Max turns to watch as Michael licks his way over Max's shoulder and then strikes.
It's like a hot poker through his skin, and then more as teeth gnaw and tear through muscle and skin. Max curses once, but still reaches up to hold at those curls, wanting Michael to take, to drink and chew his body, to make every bit of pain his body is riddled with his. knowing exactly what Michael is doing, has Max closing his eyes. He can feel the throb and the sharp tear of his body protesting against the wound, but there's so much more. That heart of his darkness kicks at its door, and races along Max's cock, making it throb and weep like he hadn't felt it before.
He's known desperation, and has been edged within an inch of insanity, but this was a fresh new desire. "Fuck, oh god, mine Michael. I'm yours, only yours. " He goads his beloved on, knowing that in a few weeks they'll be married and tied even tighter then, if they could ever be such a thing. Watching the blood smear Michael's face all he wants is a taste, but he's denied as Michael falls down his body and onto his cock. Max rocks back a little and sends both hands into Michael's hair, tinting it with red as he grips tightly. "Jesus baby. I want you too. If you're gonna do that..." He tries to think, tries to breathe, but takes a few second to merely enjoy the feeling, to pull the hair and use it as a guiding force for what he desires. He never tires of seeing Michael like this, owning his cock, especially now as it's wrapped in their offering, covered in blood, just as their bodies are.
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Date: 2023-06-06 06:55 pm (UTC)Max can feel the sameness in his lover. He can look at Michael and know that the other would die the same holy death without making sure they wear their marks together. The need to taste, to know of the forbidden like this is just as strong. They make no provenance but their own, and spell no lines between them. With his shirt pulled from his body, Max turns to watch as Michael licks his way over Max's shoulder and then strikes.
It's like a hot poker through his skin, and then more as teeth gnaw and tear through muscle and skin. Max curses once, but still reaches up to hold at those curls, wanting Michael to take, to drink and chew his body, to make every bit of pain his body is riddled with his. knowing exactly what Michael is doing, has Max closing his eyes. He can feel the throb and the sharp tear of his body protesting against the wound, but there's so much more. That heart of his darkness kicks at its door, and races along Max's cock, making it throb and weep like he hadn't felt it before.
He's known desperation, and has been edged within an inch of insanity, but this was a fresh new desire. "Fuck, oh god, mine Michael. I'm yours, only yours. " He goads his beloved on, knowing that in a few weeks they'll be married and tied even tighter then, if they could ever be such a thing. Watching the blood smear Michael's face all he wants is a taste, but he's denied as Michael falls down his body and onto his cock. Max rocks back a little and sends both hands into Michael's hair, tinting it with red as he grips tightly. "Jesus baby. I want you too. If you're gonna do that..." He tries to think, tries to breathe, but takes a few second to merely enjoy the feeling, to pull the hair and use it as a guiding force for what he desires. He never tires of seeing Michael like this, owning his cock, especially now as it's wrapped in their offering, covered in blood, just as their bodies are.