( danny wants his dick so bad that he's sure more than he's ever been sure of anything in his thousand cat lives that it'll kill him if he doesn't get it, worse than it'll kill him if he does get it. he stays pornstar arched, pink mouth and pink tongue straining for reach and human reflexes flinching hard from the splatter burn of luci's cum anointing his cupid's bow and the highest point of his cheek, carbon bleaching a single eyelash bone white. then it's over, luci rolled onto his back next to him, and it's not fair, it's bullshit, because all of that could've bleached his insides, too, a clean burn, a solid waste of cum, cockblocked from a good death.
worse: it's over, and he's still alive. daddies are the worst. yes, all daddies.
hands freed, danny squeezes his dick through his jeans and twists cruelly, one leg deer-kicking in protest, whimpering through the pain, the immeasurable grief. he flips onto his front, licking the dirt, the leftover dribbles of luci's cum and the spilled ash from his cock that wasn't greedily swept away by the wind, and rides his hips into the ground. furious, devastated, tantruming his way to an orgasm. no one understands. no one cares.
through a mouth full of dirt and ash, miserably, ) No.
( he's not dead, that's not how his story ever ends because his story never ends. danny's epilogue is that he always gets to live, again and again and again. he fucks a shallow divot into the ground until he busts messily in his jeans, imagining luci's (john's? both?) face in his fly instead. )
no subject
worse: it's over, and he's still alive. daddies are the worst. yes, all daddies.
hands freed, danny squeezes his dick through his jeans and twists cruelly, one leg deer-kicking in protest, whimpering through the pain, the immeasurable grief. he flips onto his front, licking the dirt, the leftover dribbles of luci's cum and the spilled ash from his cock that wasn't greedily swept away by the wind, and rides his hips into the ground. furious, devastated, tantruming his way to an orgasm. no one understands. no one cares.
through a mouth full of dirt and ash, miserably, ) No.
( he's not dead, that's not how his story ever ends because his story never ends. danny's epilogue is that he always gets to live, again and again and again. he fucks a shallow divot into the ground until he busts messily in his jeans, imagining luci's (john's? both?) face in his fly instead. )