tianshan ~ ONESHOTS

Vaporwave

Summary: Guess you'll have to find out. *wink wonk*

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The short hovering breath of purrs heaves the air in the room, chest pushing invisible blocks to aid in rising up and down, expanding, inhales and exhales streaming Little Mo's throat.

Oxygen vents out of the redheads lungs, a long and lengthy tail ribboned with orange fur quietly swishing from side to side in place as drool slugs down the outsides of his lips.

Mo Guan Shan's woken up with a deep tingled fright when a bludgeoning knock flares the inside of the silvery exterior, his nostrils blazing with a fast temper as he snaps up from the bed. The alarm echoes with the sight of a dullish fragrance of blue morning, and the redheads pace makes him break, little by little.

He's blocked himself from a step further when the side of his arm towers himself against the bathroom door. Somethings not right--there's a rich contrast icing the last drop of breath right now.

It's the sharp-pointed canines that stretch over Mo's mouth, the white edges slipping past each stroke of tongue. It's the euphoric, extra weight added onto his head that flicks from a stiff of air. It's the sensitive feeling that arouses the hairs standing up on his back, and he's aware.

When he finally does step inside the bathroom, a loud shriek boils his throat and his teeth accidentally crust his bleeding tongue.

Mo Guan Shan's tongue still bleeds when his arms tighten and wraps himself against the academy's seat. The chair spoils with whines and squeaks inside the clogged walls of classrooms, the buzz rotting from a small paste of excitement that wraps the others choked voices into oblivion--which was what he yearned to do right now; shrink into a vast time of endless reflections amongst the shrills the sounds made.

Becoming invisible? That was the x-marks-the-spot line he was happy to endure with.

Everything seemed offbeat with Momo today, especially today, most peculiarly today, when he snapped into the realization of He Tian not arriving on the same note with him this morning. It was pessimistic--almost, but solely he was going to wordlessly thank the lord until the intimidating eye-boring black hair had just became the result of the crackling, drying, grotesqueness in Mo's throat.

The swiveling cat ears, rolling sideways, slowly denting the strapped hoodie Mo couldn't stop made the face--He Tian's face--that bellowed in his vision, dazed with confusion.

And oh boy did the redhead grasp hard to pull the hoodie down over the heated taunts his face sculpted. Those same dazed looks, interested smirks, He Tian interlocks with him throughout this hellish nightmare of a day--boring black coal and glowing, rose-colored tangerines melting together with just the mix of their eyes--had gave him tingling shakes that bled spasms of blissful pleasure throughout his body.

But Mo doesn't know these eyes.

They stay with him in homeroom, classes, and the cafeteria he's fled--rushed to as of now.

And while Jian Yi is already shoving his share of food and feeding it to Zhan Zheng Xi, He Tian doesn't even give as much as a poke at the plastic worn down tray, eyes heaving over the surface where two seemingly ecstatic horns stuck in place.

"I can barely see your face, little Mo."

"Eat shit."

His stubborn bite back rewards him with fingers curling over his head, swiftly caressing the spot Mo so desperately objectified to cover. With each fondle and rub He Tian's finger gives, a low, comforted rumble rolls out of his tongue, a light twitch heaving his timbre for a brief moment, the situation in hand growing timid as every wave of ticking clock passes.

Mo fucking knows Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi are grappling these two with their hooked eyes, and He Tian again alters his head to pull Mo in with the tight, crammed distance they share, and the scalding magma in his irises mold and flourish into a mixed layer of gravel, threading endless vast of oceans all together.

Rims of soft peonies—that make up subjects; a dozen solid contrasts into a singular color palette—swoons into the mirrored view of slumped eyes that cradles only He Tian. It swallows each flashed shut of eyes whole, rhythmic with waves that crash into the shores of the obscure absence of his mind, each salted boom overcasting flawlessly.

And, abruptly—so surprisingly, Mo's mind forecasts its own show of radiance and delicacy. For a ripped second.

"You've been more fragile over in this spot lately, Mo Guan Shan," the same fingers slide over the hooded, buckled spot between his ears. "It's....distracting." He Tian throws jumpy hands at Mo and nips at him.

"FUCK OFF!!"