Re: Quiet Home: Misha & Oliver
"Do you want me?" It was an honest question, one spoken through an exhale, hiccuping and just a little desperate when Misha pulled away to discuss logic. "I mean, do you?" There was a lot of disbelief happening here, a wound partially visible through the chest, open like a spear. He felt Misha's eyes like that. Solid, and definite, and here. Through the chest. Oliver wanted Misha to press his mouth there to eradicate the difference. But he couldn't ask him to.
Oliver lost his hands freely in Crazy's hair, and he was hanging like desperation from the elbows, could hip meet hip?. He was all high eyebrows, wanting.
Oliver liked Crazy, but admitted it wouldn't have been honest because he could cause shadows anywhere. "I thinkā¦" Breath drawn and his palms once again wedged between them, fingers clutched like wanting to the others belt loops. "You... are a ghost."
But he kissed him anyway, and he wanted anyway with knuckles curling deep into Crazy's back.