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[wound prompt] shindrift - kiss it better
TINY FOLLOW UP TO AMNESIA FICLET. ahoohoohoo I just love amnesia trope too much to let go. :(
“Ooh, so it’s like this, eh?”
Drifter’s self-satisfied, smug voice hits the edge of being breathless. Shin looks down at him, pinning Drifter’s wrists against the mattress, and Drifter’s fierce gaze sears into him like hot iron on skin. It’s been a while since Drifter’s looked at him with those hungry, sharp eyes — not since having his memory skip back a decade. Not since he’s been trying to sort out the mess he’s made of his life.
Shin misses it — fine, he’ll admit it, he misses the burn of being wanted — and he hates that he does. His grip tightens, and Drifter’s grin only gets wider at that.
“Well? You gonna show me how I like it, hotshot?” Drifter’s teeth flash in the dim light of the Derelict.
It’s a trick question. A trap. If Shin really does show him, if he really does take apart Drifter like he has, he’ll lose this memory-blank Drifter faster than a Warlock blinking away. It’ll gut him, and if Shin gets started, he doesn’t think he’ll be merciful. He’ll end up showing Drifter everything he’s got, and wants, and wishes —
It won’t be worth the inevitable fallout. Drifter’s Ghost is recovering from the shock of Arc, and Shin knows it’s been feeding Drifter information, filling the gaps in his memory. Maybe that’s the reason why Drifter kisses him for the first time in days, testing the waters, and Shin feels like he’s shown his hand the moment he kissed him back, unflinching and deep and aching.
Being in this position brings back some vivid visions of pulling and pushing at each other; a renegade and a Dark Age drifter, always on the edge of a fight or a fuck. It feels like it’s back to square one. Shin remembers how paranoid Drifter had been, always testing and cautious, looking for the worst in the Renegade. That, and the simple pleasure a mindless hard fuck.
Exactly like right now. And Shin wants to bite down hard enough to make the both of them bleed for it. Then, he wants to brush it away with a warm touch, light and fleeting enough he can get away with it.
“You wanna know?” Shin leans down, putting his burning hand to Drifter’s throat. He feels Drifter suck in a breath, his eyes going dark at his touch. Shin’s smile curves up, insincere as he’ll ever be; “I’ll show you.”
After, Shin watches Drifter stare glassy-eyed at the ceiling. Drifter’s a wreck, breathing hard and wordless and sweaty. Shin glances at the outline of his hand around Drifter’s neck, feeling odd about imprinting it there, even though he’s done it before with ten times the satisfaction.
Drifter’s fingers comes up to touch at the reddened skin at his neck. He rubs it, frowning.
Shin shifts a bit closer, and Drifter’s eyes snap to him, body tensing.
“That was…” Drifter begins, eyeing Shin warily, “Well. Guess I did like it.”
The corner of Shin’s mouth hitches up, but even that’s met with narrow-eyed suspicion. Shin edges closer and closer, aware of Drifter’s hands shifting to a position where he can push away, but Shin only presses his mouth to Drifter’s throat, careful of the tender flesh, and allows himself to leave a small lingering kiss before pulling back.
Drifter goes still, staring at him like he’s been spooked, and Shin knows he’s too afraid to ask—is this also how I like it?
Shin shuts his eyes. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have been able to answer that either.
“Ooh, so it’s like this, eh?”
Drifter’s self-satisfied, smug voice hits the edge of being breathless. Shin looks down at him, pinning Drifter’s wrists against the mattress, and Drifter’s fierce gaze sears into him like hot iron on skin. It’s been a while since Drifter’s looked at him with those hungry, sharp eyes — not since having his memory skip back a decade. Not since he’s been trying to sort out the mess he’s made of his life.
Shin misses it — fine, he’ll admit it, he misses the burn of being wanted — and he hates that he does. His grip tightens, and Drifter’s grin only gets wider at that.
“Well? You gonna show me how I like it, hotshot?” Drifter’s teeth flash in the dim light of the Derelict.
It’s a trick question. A trap. If Shin really does show him, if he really does take apart Drifter like he has, he’ll lose this memory-blank Drifter faster than a Warlock blinking away. It’ll gut him, and if Shin gets started, he doesn’t think he’ll be merciful. He’ll end up showing Drifter everything he’s got, and wants, and wishes —
It won’t be worth the inevitable fallout. Drifter’s Ghost is recovering from the shock of Arc, and Shin knows it’s been feeding Drifter information, filling the gaps in his memory. Maybe that’s the reason why Drifter kisses him for the first time in days, testing the waters, and Shin feels like he’s shown his hand the moment he kissed him back, unflinching and deep and aching.
Being in this position brings back some vivid visions of pulling and pushing at each other; a renegade and a Dark Age drifter, always on the edge of a fight or a fuck. It feels like it’s back to square one. Shin remembers how paranoid Drifter had been, always testing and cautious, looking for the worst in the Renegade. That, and the simple pleasure a mindless hard fuck.
Exactly like right now. And Shin wants to bite down hard enough to make the both of them bleed for it. Then, he wants to brush it away with a warm touch, light and fleeting enough he can get away with it.
“You wanna know?” Shin leans down, putting his burning hand to Drifter’s throat. He feels Drifter suck in a breath, his eyes going dark at his touch. Shin’s smile curves up, insincere as he’ll ever be; “I’ll show you.”
After, Shin watches Drifter stare glassy-eyed at the ceiling. Drifter’s a wreck, breathing hard and wordless and sweaty. Shin glances at the outline of his hand around Drifter’s neck, feeling odd about imprinting it there, even though he’s done it before with ten times the satisfaction.
Drifter’s fingers comes up to touch at the reddened skin at his neck. He rubs it, frowning.
Shin shifts a bit closer, and Drifter’s eyes snap to him, body tensing.
“That was…” Drifter begins, eyeing Shin warily, “Well. Guess I did like it.”
The corner of Shin’s mouth hitches up, but even that’s met with narrow-eyed suspicion. Shin edges closer and closer, aware of Drifter’s hands shifting to a position where he can push away, but Shin only presses his mouth to Drifter’s throat, careful of the tender flesh, and allows himself to leave a small lingering kiss before pulling back.
Drifter goes still, staring at him like he’s been spooked, and Shin knows he’s too afraid to ask—is this also how I like it?
Shin shuts his eyes. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have been able to answer that either.