Re: Exterior: a rest stop, desert [sexual content]
Walking was awkward, and he didn't handle it as well as he'd handled the button on the boy's jeans. Weight was nothing to Famine, the plenty of pounds as nothing to him, because he was fathomless. His strength came and went, escaping him when he thought on the burn of his biceps as they pressed into the boy's elbows, and finding the weight on the tops of his hips and dragging down on his shoulders was not as satisfying as the scrape and press of fabric and flesh a moment before. Nothing about Famine was especially thick, but he was certainly hard, and the jeans were starting to become interestingly uncomfortable, stiff and ironed-new, the indigo die drawing funny purple lines at his waist before it started to curve into his ass. All this was visible as he turned around in full circle, forgetting which way was shortest and moving rapidly in hasty confusion to pin the boy again to the newly closed door.
The privacy didn't much interest him, but if would make the boy more pliable, more willing to sate that hunger, Famine was effusive about privacy. He was not so effusive about safety or even efficiency, because it was a dream and he was pretty certain that in dreams he could fuck whatever he wanted, thank you very much, and that was the best part about dreams.
Famine let the boy have his jacket, amused into stand still, eyes gleaming and wet lips pursing open and closed in hungry, hungry attention. "Nothing surprising," Famine said, with a shocking lack of ego, "but it does get me what I want. I promise you'll Like me." He licked the second to last word, Like up the tip of the boy's chin with a long, warm tongue. He started to peel the boy away from his clothes, or vise versa, clothes away from the boy, as if the slash of his palm across the boy's stomach was the knife and everything up and down was made to be scraped away with his fingernails like avocado skin. Something about the black cotton briefs made him chortle moodily to himself. All of his clothes were very, very New, and did not fit him very well. He was eager to be clean of them.
Depriving the boy of shirt, he pulled down the faded briefs with one hand, rough with the elastic and not careful at all with that becoming erection, which he fondled with the same delight he had shown when he'd seen the boy, the boy's mouth, and the plate of french fries. He wanted to tease the boy all the way up, hard enough to make his eyes starshine. A few strokes, yes, but he was creative with his thumb as it moved under that soft skin and coaxed a real stretch in the right direction.
He stepped away, gesturing roughly for the boy to step out of the briefs and in the meantime divesting himself of his boots, clamping each toe down on his heel and yanking his knees up one at a time.