[ STOP HE WON'T probably. maybe. be glad he doesn't have his super strength? or don't
the terrible water feels so good, even if it's not warm. it doesn't need to be, because lin's body heat is all that bixing really needs, all he really cares about. sometimes, he misses the enhanced senses of his biochip if only because he wants to record those little noises, wants to hear those huffs and sighs and laughs in high definition so he can burn them into his memory. they're so real, the kind of thing even his perfect memory, his dreams couldn't recreate. the fingertips that curl over his shoulders give him goosebumps, as he kisses down that scar, pressing one to the hollow of his throat, the safest place, the heartbeat against his mouth that he knows and loves, tangles them together against the surface of the tile. he wants to map him out over and over again, like a dying man desperate for a drink, to commit every piece of his body to his memory lest for a second he loses him again.
he's starting to get maybe a little too much, there - a little too bitey, when he's starting to leave what will bloom into a dark hickey right in tha vulnerable little spot when lin pulls him back. he looks up, interrupted, flushed cheeked and wet and curly hair sticking up, and blinking surprised at him before he realizes what he's actually referring to. oh. right.
he lets out a laugh of his own, soft, and nods. ] ...Okay.
[ and then ducks his head into lin jingheng's hands. his own are busy, still curled around his hips. maybe he'll take it off for him? he peers up at him with his good eye, through the thick of his lashes, almost asking for it, imploring- even though he knows its ugly under there, in lin jingheng's hands, its safe. ]
(mods voice) whore behavior
the terrible water feels so good, even if it's not warm. it doesn't need to be, because lin's body heat is all that bixing really needs, all he really cares about. sometimes, he misses the enhanced senses of his biochip if only because he wants to record those little noises, wants to hear those huffs and sighs and laughs in high definition so he can burn them into his memory. they're so real, the kind of thing even his perfect memory, his dreams couldn't recreate. the fingertips that curl over his shoulders give him goosebumps, as he kisses down that scar, pressing one to the hollow of his throat, the safest place, the heartbeat against his mouth that he knows and loves, tangles them together against the surface of the tile. he wants to map him out over and over again, like a dying man desperate for a drink, to commit every piece of his body to his memory lest for a second he loses him again.
he's starting to get maybe a little too much, there - a little too bitey, when he's starting to leave what will bloom into a dark hickey right in tha vulnerable little spot when lin pulls him back. he looks up, interrupted, flushed cheeked and wet and curly hair sticking up, and blinking surprised at him before he realizes what he's actually referring to. oh. right.
he lets out a laugh of his own, soft, and nods. ] ...Okay.
[ and then ducks his head into lin jingheng's hands. his own are busy, still curled around his hips. maybe he'll take it off for him? he peers up at him with his good eye, through the thick of his lashes, almost asking for it, imploring- even though he knows its ugly under there, in lin jingheng's hands, its safe. ]