[He pauses as Simon begs. Nothing in him aches or stutters at the sight or sound of it; he doesn't relent because it's vulnerable and soft and here, in this lighting, looks so violently familiar.
The sensors dotting the edges of his thumbs, articulate and fine, translate the soft rabbiting pressure of Simon's eyelids, right down to the thin brush of their lashes. All manufactured. All intentionally constructed from strands of hard-wired code. But fragile. Breakable, like the optical fibers he holds pinned for a single second longer— and then withdraws, still smiling coarsely through the edge of his mouth.
The thought of hurting it never leaves him.
Simon's hands are still braced across his wrists. He smooths the printless pads of his own fingers across the inside of Simon's brow bones, tracing outward. It isn't as gentle as it should be— hands made to hunt and catch can't perfectly emulate the natural give of a caretaker's touch. They trail down, palms flat, one resting against the underside of Simon's jaw, the other working its shoulder lower, drawing away dark fabric and the tattered collar of Markus's coat. A smooth expanse of unmarred skin that he sinks into, bowing his head and spine.]
I missed you. [He mouths low against Simon's neck, teeth too sharp.]
no subject
The sensors dotting the edges of his thumbs, articulate and fine, translate the soft rabbiting pressure of Simon's eyelids, right down to the thin brush of their lashes. All manufactured. All intentionally constructed from strands of hard-wired code. But fragile. Breakable, like the optical fibers he holds pinned for a single second longer— and then withdraws, still smiling coarsely through the edge of his mouth.
The thought of hurting it never leaves him.
Simon's hands are still braced across his wrists. He smooths the printless pads of his own fingers across the inside of Simon's brow bones, tracing outward. It isn't as gentle as it should be— hands made to hunt and catch can't perfectly emulate the natural give of a caretaker's touch. They trail down, palms flat, one resting against the underside of Simon's jaw, the other working its shoulder lower, drawing away dark fabric and the tattered collar of Markus's coat. A smooth expanse of unmarred skin that he sinks into, bowing his head and spine.]
I missed you. [He mouths low against Simon's neck, teeth too sharp.]