Work Text:
You've traced your fingers many times on his skin. You've felt the quakes and shudders resonating through his ribcage, and you've defined every bone with tact and precision.
You've journeyed over undulating muscle and greasy hair, and nestled inside prickly pubic bristles, and savored broken nose bones with your thick lower lip.
Your eyelashes have fluttered out each twitching ear.
There was something funny about how his veins stuck out and yours were tiny and hidden, and how sometimes you'd put your ear to them and listen to the blue pump and sludge through.
There was something curious about his scratches and cuts and scars, and his chipped teeth and chipped horns.
There was something very laughable and horse-like about his spastic trembles when you gently spread apart his knees.
There was something interesting about his skin.
Maybe it was his neck in a bright sweat, a waxy cesious tone, and the way you kissed his Adam's apple that made him cling at your neck like a baby. He would desperately plaster his dry lips to the contours of your cheekbones in bashful attempts to prove himself, as if he needed to.
Maybe it was how tense his shoulders were brought together when you undressed, but how debilitated and smooth they came undone at the scrape of your uneven nails.
You're certain those are good guesses.
You are so small and feverish next to him. You are so lovely and nicely curved, light-footed and rougy red, curled into his gross and burly body, crudely sculpted into beautiful creaks and crevices you don't ever tire of digging your toes into.
He is so big and cold next to you. It's wonderful how chilly his arms are. It's wonderful how the side of your mouth feels on his cold lips, a dull hue of bluish black against your smudgy bright lipstick, blessed creator of intermediates on his sheeny brow.
Your warmth is remarkable on his wintry palate. The chain reaction is a shared chuckle and ticklish breaths, and backs arched with goosebumpy shivers. His skin is gorgeous in salty cold sweat.