[ Blissful lunacy stretches his lips and shows teeth, brought down to Death's level because this creature can't stand to be apart and it needs to see him come apart, gashes opening and closing up as Zephir's body races to heal itself. He loves this, loves him, and only wants to be loved even more intensely. He might as well turn around and demand that Sullivan strip him of his clothes, fuck him hard enough to burn, rip the skin on his shoulder and back to keep drinking, eating, wanting.
It wouldn't take Zephir long to come on the grass, once, twice, thrice, until they were both so spent that neither could recall the passage of time. He's already hard in his clothes, leaving a wet spot where he's pressing against his other half. ]
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It wouldn't take Zephir long to come on the grass, once, twice, thrice, until they were both so spent that neither could recall the passage of time. He's already hard in his clothes, leaving a wet spot where he's pressing against his other half. ]
Focus. I want to drink.