‘ i don’t care if you say my name like it’s poison or like it’s a prayer, as long as it leaves your lips. ’
GROWLING SUGGESTION MEME // OPEN
The hands that had been gripping at the youth minister’s shirt didn’t loosen their grip on the pink collar. Not at first. And the pressure with which Robert had cornered Joseph against his living room’s wall remained there. The lingering promise of violence that seemed always present within his core was only truly tested when JOSEPH was there. The mere sight of him drove Robert over the edge, never quite sure whether he wanted to KILL HIM or FUCK HIM. That blind moment of savagery that came with LETTING GO was all he could ever think of. He too didn’t care how he broke Joseph; he just wanted to see him squirm … To see the façade of PERFECTION crumble beneath his touch, be it a punch or a stroke, it didn’t matter … He WANTED IT. And now as they both stood there, breathing heavily, ready to cross that line once again, Joseph’s words cut through him like a sharp blade. Theirs was an ugly dance. Clumsy and chaotic, blood spilled over a pristine marbled floor. Despite how different they were, they seemed to be equally DISTASTEFUL.
Brown eyes examined the younger man’s face. The distance between them was practically nonexistent. And Robert couldn’t help but furrow his brow as the minister’s claim sunk into his skin and SCARRED HIM. He shook his head lightly as if disappointed at that thought, his attention shifting between the blond’s lips and eyes. Both calloused hands hurried to yank at the other man’s belt in one unnecessarily rough movement. ❝ You’re sick. ❞ He hissed through gritted teeth. It wasn’t made clear whether Robert was speaking to Joseph or HIMSELF. None of that seemed to matter though. Not now.
