tape → narry au

49 ← cicatrise

Cicatrise:
find healing by the process of forming scars; heal by scar formation.

It was one of those usual moments where Niall and I's actions would escalate to sex or anything mature; sexual.

He hovers over me with his lips attached to my neck like a leech. Sucking on any skin he's able to find as my fingers card through his sweaty fringe warily.

Tacitly encouraging him further, because that's what we both wanted--

We always did.

Knowing Niall—he'd pull away to tug at either mine or his shirt, well his hood in this case. Pulling the grey material over his head only to reveal a bland white shirt that glistened slightly due to the dimness surrounding the both us.

Then Niall would keep the remaining shirt on as he hovered back over me to create more makeshift love bites on the clammy, blemished skin on my neck.

I'd pull him as close to me as possible with my hand grasped, tight on his neck, letting out breathy moans that sent signals straight to my hardening cock as well as Niall's.

He lets out a deep groan when I squirm under him. Unintentionally lifting my hips to rub against Niall's hardening length suffocating in the confinement of his skinnies. Niall detaches himself from my neck to grin slyly at me.

"I love you," he rasps. Voice groggy from the lack of words. Nevertheless the three uttered words meaning didn't at all alternate like Niall's voice.

I don't hesitate, as usual, to repeat, "I love you." Leaning up to attach my lips to Niall's. Angling myself to deepen the ignited kiss.

Niall smiles against my lips before slipping his tongue into the warmth he's become so familiar with, my mouth.

The dominance prominent as usual, all the same I don't mind—swift to lie back onto the mattress pulling Niall along with me.

He falters a bit but soon finds his steadied position above me. Pulling away to lift my, well Niall's own shirt, above my head agonisingly slow. The teasing look present on Niall's adoring face as he does so.

"Don't tease me," I scold, removing Niall's hands to replace them with own as I pull off the shirt, in a quicker movement. Fully removing the raven colour material off my body.

Niall watches me thoroughly. Hooded eyes locked on me as I discard the irrelevant shirt to our cabin floor carelessly. Pulling at Niall's white shirt to tacitly hint for him to remove his shirt also—wanting his bare skin lined up with my own.

Even if it wasn't long ago seeing Niall practically bare, the desire to see him bare now doubles to none.

Niall grins at me before slowly pulling at the cotton material to pull over his head. Speed slower than before and my patience wearing thin simultaneously.

I was agonisingly hard. Barely able to breathe through my loose joggers.

I just wanted Niall to hurry up but he always has to banter and wit about.

Just when I attempt to reach for Niall's shirt, he already removes it. About to linger above me like previous until I easily detect noticeable crimson lines on Niall's lower abdomen, near his deliberate scars.

The sight more concerning than my previous lusting for Niall.

I push him away from me to sit up. Earning a confused look from Niall at the abrupt gesture, though that doesn't stop me from softly touching the bright red marks with my index finger.