Title: Allure of the Tainted
Notes: Alright, so buses everywhere weep over the fact that coffeebruise
only perhaps but quite possibly does not have a fetish for them. But she seems to like cherries…in that way…and since she seems to be free of her school…unless I am getting this wrong…this is a sort of congratulations (and a thank you for getting me out of a complete and utter writer’s block onto something that might pass as a decent piece of fanfic.)
It was almost sinful.
His lips had already been the stuff of dreams; full, perfectly pink, tempting in their frowns as much as in their smiles. Yet now, stained with dark red with the juice of the cherries, they were irresistible. The thought of touching those lips, kissing them, tasting the flavors so carefully masked, intertwined within the musky flavor of the cherry is overwhelming.
They really should have been banned from this world…
He swallows the pieces and fingers itch to follow their journey down the perfect skin of that neck, swirl down the middle of that pale, smooth chest, splay on skin of that flat stomach.
…from this limited existence.
He bites into another cherry, teeth white and precise and cruel. Juice flows freely, caressing the already red surface of the lips, soaking in greedily. Some of the liquid escapes, streams from the confines of the red, bleeds onto the pure, white canvas below
…their ways were not meant for human eyes.
And that’s really too much. This hand reaches almost of its own volition across the table to rub at the moisture. In the end, Matsujun quite clearly knows that it is not just a friendly sort of help – the hand stays too long, fingers dig in a little too much, straying from that spot to caress, there was just so much more.
Was it too cliché to sign away ones’ existence for them…
He says nothing, turning instead to chatter happily with the others, as the pressure of the hand leaves. Sitting here, trying hard not to blush, staring at the redness that stains the tips of slightly trembling fingers, would it be too wrong to taste them? He says nothing.
…Can’t be, has to be.
Later, when the others leave, stumbling and sated and leaning against one another, he pauses briefly, his presence like a bonfire, and whispers, cherry-red lips parted just slightly, just like that:
“A fascination with cherries Sho? Or just with me?”
I could say more here..but i am tired..