board to Death/consumed
Around the time that dawn started to taunt the edge of the horizon, We turned into just one. One consciousness roiled into unconscious blur, two minds into one body that was less gaunt, a little taller, with no half-healed scars on his stomach. The road rash on his forearms stayed, though. So go figure that one. He would have been, if he wasn't curled against the body of his alley's companion. Slotted together like ivory on a piano. He felt those fingers when they tickled the line of his ilium beneath his jeans.
He wasn't blonde, either. Hair wasn't so shaggy. Legs weren't as long, but his shoulders were more broad, and hunched inward towards the perception of shelter. Hands that held him and didn't hurt. His head jumped where it rested against the other's chest when the stranger laughed, but he did not wake. He was somewhere that was not Here. Fingers bit into the lean muscle of his bicep, and there was a flicker of furrow that fluttered on his brow. But he didn't wake. His chest didn't move, not for a few long minutes, and his head flopped back on a limp neck when he was shook.
Then, after several minutes, he made a sound. It was low, muffled by a tongue that was heavy and thick in a mouth lined with sandpaper. There was a pulse of colour and heartbeat, behind those closed eyelids.