Re: Lakeside night: Seven/Liam
Flecks of cotton fluffed up from the edges of a chapter and curled around Seven’s ankles as the words shifted underneath his feet and he shuffled closer in stuttered steps, hiked in by the tug of Liam’s smile as it flickered around the edges of his mouth. He knew the different leverages of that smile like the back of his fucking hand, scarred knuckles and chapped cuticles. He’d never forgotten it. It tugged at him and it made him exhale a short, huffed sigh; his gaze laser-focused on the way that Liam’s hair curled against his temples and the freckled skin of his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
Seven felt his own echo of it: he swallowed hard against the taste of copper, and his arms moved to bracket either side of Liam’s ribcage as they collided and the man’s mouth brushed against the skin above his shirt’s collar. “Hi,” he mumbled with his lips pressed into Liam’s hair, breathing in deep and feeling his chest expand with relief when he didn’t smell that acidic tang of vodka like one of the last times. “Hi.” His fingers stretched out and spanned wide as he pulled Liam closer, his body first a pillar of heat and then cold, then heat again within the flicker of the dream.
“I fuckin’ miss you.” Mumbled, throaty, Bronx-thick consonants.