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Jack loved kissing his teaboy. He loved every inch of Ianto's mouth. He loved how the Welshman's lips seemed unable to help themselves from curling into a smile each time the two men kissed.
Jack loved pulling Ianto in gently by his colourful tie of the day, getting the tiniest moan out of his lover by doing so each time.
Jack loved exploring the inside of Ianto's mouth with his tongue; mapping out each wall like sonar. Jack particularly loved how Ianto's left, middle molar was set about 1 millimetre lower than his other two and found a habit of lingering the tip of his tongue there for play whenever they weren't in a fierce race for the bed. In other words, when there was no danger in being bitten.
Jack loved how, even after nearly a year into their relationship, Ianto was still tense at the beginning of each kiss, and soon turned to putty in his hands.
Jack loved when Ianto played with the hair at the nape of his neck on a calm, quiet night. He also loved when Ianto tugged at the sam
Every Hit I Take - Ch. 13
Frank's father, who had yet to actually meet me, lent us his car for Frank and I to go to the hospital in. Damn, his dad is cool!
In the waiting room, strangely empty for once (don't even ask - I have a tendency to get into emergency-room situations when I don't get along with my cousins), Frank and I just talked. Actually, we talked between long silences. They weren't awkward though - we really didn't need to talk. Kind of sweet that way.
"Gerard, I'm sorry." Frank said, tugging softly on the strings of my hoodie.
While we were waiting, Frank, the little child, had shifted endlessly until he had finally, for now, found a spot he was comfortable with. His head was nuzzled into the crook of my neck, with his left arm looped around my right, with his left hand playing with his or my clothing occasionally.
"Frank, it's fine... I'm really tired; can't we just go home--?"
"No! You need stitches, you moron, sit back down!" Frank tugged me by my sleeve back down on the uncomfortable ch
may as well buy another packcollapse, and breathe into the carpet:
sunday mornings are not
for falling apart, but damn
the amphorics, this
is not an atmosphere.
you fell in love like you always
wish you didn't, made all their
smiles replaceable, interchangeable,
fell asleep with shadows and kept
drinking, just letting yourself sleep
with blue pills
and tried not to scream.
(keep this image in your head:
fire and nectarines, a sudden jerk
of realization, inspiration
breaking your neck and leaving you forever
breaking bones is not so different
from breaking hearts - it's all about
the leverage, the angle, the mode
(and at least it wasn't personal;
it can color in your own guilt
for starting lines and never ending
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