Kinn plops onto Porsche chest, his weight heavy, a blend of alcohol and sweet perfume rubbing over him. Drenching him. Porsche lets it happen, a common affair but still he can't specify the emotion he's swimming in. Something is shifting, tilting on its axis. Destiny conspiring. The dim light of the bedroom falls onto the figure lying over him, his blue shirt bunched up in Porsche's pale hands. A moment later, kinn starts nuzzling into his neck. Porsche relaxes. It's familiar, the affection of the older boy. The physical touch that only enhances once he has alcohol in his body. He just wishes for his heart to cease being traitorous, his fingers to stop twitching and his pulse to pause its wild racing. There's so much unfamiliarity in the familiar motion. Porsche exhales. Kinn doesn't speak for a while and Porsche circles his arms around his waist concluding he has fallen asleep. He moves to settle him on the bed, beside him. Always so close. But it's the wet feeling around his ear that halts all of his movements. The feeling continues, clawing his body and spreading like wildfire. Kinn nibbling his ear, kinn's tongue pushing inside Porsche silver hoop. Kinn. Kinn. Kinn. Porsche gasps.
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