Re: Exterior: a rest stop, desert [sexual content]
It was a strange dream that questioned him, and it was the first thing that gave him any pause about the situation. Stepping over his boots, which he kicked back with the heels of lumpy socks fresh from the package, he brought the cloud-fringed eyes up to look into the boy's stretched wide gaze. He didn't ever try to recognize people in dreams, he just let them be, and sometimes later he'd match up names to faces, but he'd never done it in the throws of cold-awkward pre-cum and white tile. Consternation slid up Famine's cheekbones and into the crow's feet at the edge of his eyes, the blonde brows giving him a constantly languid look that never went away. He didn't immediately try to find an answer to the question, too disconcerted by its existence to do so.
The hesitation didn't last long. He came forward again, still in his jeans because he liked the idea of the boy working the zipper on them, and pressed the boy up against the door again. "I'm still deciding. Flat like the menu, sticky like the table, divided up in pretty portions...?" Just the babbling of the hunger demon, as the man was busy. He put his hand down the inside of the boy's leg, pushed three fingers into the inside of his thigh, and held the other up with a hard press of one jean hip, spreading the boy's bare knee just an inch or so out of his way. Then he dragged blunt nails back up the path he had made, cupping his balls and spreading fingers behind them in a newly gentle motion of pressing fiction. Maybe he could get the boy to climb the walls with his spine.