Itch. {JohnDave}

Tremble

John's fantasies were alive.

They were roaring, plaguing his every thought as he was so lovingly kissed.

Their lips molded together perfectly, glued together with the mess of saliva formulating between the two. The colorless liquid slid into their kiss, the kiss that was currently growing into quite the make out. Their tongues danced in perfect harmony, pushing in and out, in and out.

John released a quiet moan, eyes glittering with genuine fondness as Dave pulled away. Needless to say, two thin strings of saliva connected their mouths.

Seconds passed.

"Dave.." John cooed, feeling himself twitch beneath the fabric prison of the towel. "Dave, I need.."

Dave felt his heart rate quicken, along with his breaths. The speed of the moment was too much, it was an overwhelming burden.

And then came the adrenaline, accompanied with the unstoppable drive of lust.

He had harbored these feelings long before the accident, and not a damn thing had changed.

Dave threw himself forward, kicking the door closed with the back of his shoe. He threw his backpack aside, hand lowering to grab the hem of the already loosening towel.

Without a word, he tore it off of the boy's small frame, leaving every inch of this fine specimen exposed.

John felt himself tremble as he was eyed with such a hungry stare, those eyes tinted blood red sending him frozen in place.

"D-Dave! Don't stare!! That's totally.. That's t-t-totally uncool of y-you!" John made a movement to cover himself. But his wrists were in the iron grip of his love.

"Dave! A-at least.. at least let me see you!" John felt his brows grow close, ears burning bright.

And it all went tumbling downhill.

Dave was just as frozen, once passionate eyes now cast aside as he fought the urge to cringe.

John quirked a brow, suddenly regretful of his plead. "D-Dave! Dave! I'm sorry, I'm so s-sorry! You know I won't judge your-"

"I'm sorry."

With that, the Strider released the other. In one movement, he had scooped up his luggage and sped to what he knew to be the guest room, slamming the door closed.

John sank to the floor below, staring at the quivering palms that rested in his lap.

He struggled to grasp what had happened.
He struggled to beathe, to think.
To not hate himself for what he'd done.

"D-Dave.."