bakerstreet | like it's hard?

[His mouth is being very distracting right now, actually. So it could be argued that is very Hollywood of him, if arguments were a thing he could make at all right now. As it is, he is far too focused on the press of Josh's body against his, on the scrape of teeth against skin.

Teeth that feel... different, suddenly, he realizes.]

You got razor blades in there? [He asks with a soft huff of amusement; not that he thinks he's drawn blood, though the pleasure and pain receptors in his brain get pretty scrambled sometimes? So maybe he wouldn't notice as readily, anyway.]

[ Realizing what's happened is like a bucket of cold water being dumped over him, running icy tendrils over his spine. Quick check: has he drawn blood? No, and thank fuck for that, because he might actually lose it for a second if he did. Nobody needs that.

He stops using his teeth but doesn't pull away, just kind of hides his face against Bob's neck while he tries to concentrate on putting everything back the way it's supposedly normal. He has no idea if it's working. ]

...

[ There's nothing to say, really? Just only hoping he can assert things before he gets noticed too much. ]

[Luckily for Josh, the press of his face into Bob’s neck is practically divine right this very moment, a soft, contented little hum escaping his lips.

One hand slides out of Josh’s hair to slip down to curl gently around his cheek instead. There is a disconnect between what he had expected and what he was feeling against his palm and thumb as he drags it lightly against what should have been the high arch of cheekbone. It felt… rougher than he’d expected. Almost like the newly-healed wound where a scar was starting to form.]

Josh…? [Nothing is exactly put together— he doesn’t even really have the right pieces to make the proper picture— but it does feel… different. He doesn’t even know if wrong is the right word. Different is true and neutral without negative connotations attached to it at least… ]

... okay.

[ He can see that this isn't good back, not without any help. He exhales sharply and then settles back on the balls of his feet.

He looks almost like he's admonishing himself for whatever this is. It's a good guess to his inner mental state about what's happening, what he simply can't put away.

He's not a wolf or wearing a red hood, no 'my what teeth you have ' should be coming into play right now. Fuck. ]

I'm okay. Just a damn weirdo, as much as I've always been.

Hey… [He reaches idly to catch Josh’s wrist between his fingers. The tug is gentle, not enough to topple him or yank him back toward him, just enough to be a silent request to stay close.

Because this isn’t the moment everything starts to crash and burn like Josh may be expecting.]

We listen and we don’t judge… [Something he’d started saying as a joke, echoing one of his several therapists through the years, but somewhere along the way, it became a real thing he tried to live by.]

Talk to me… [He squeezes gentle where his fingers are still looped around his wrist, his thumb rubbing gently against the inside. A soothing, calming thing, done at an even, steady rhythm.]

[ Josh is quickly realizing it's not that moment but it doesn't stop his his heart from racing. Any adrenaline is bad at the moment and he places his free hand over his face to try to hide any further changes. Particularly ones where his face splits a little more or his eyes start to lose anything but being pure, milky white.

He doesn't pull away the wrist that's being touched. He couldn't bear to part from that right now, the simple connection is keeping him sane. ]

My parents fucked over an entire people. Their spirits got them back by taking their children, I guess?

How… did they do that? [It somehow doesn’t shock him as a possibility, only confuses him to try to figure out the logistics. Nothing he’s heard about anyone in Josh’s family besides the twins was good, really. They both drew the short straws on family. Gross.]

Taking you how? You’re right here… [Not completely human, but… who is, these days?]

Sure, I'm here, but do I look right?

[ He uncovers his face and - it's not great, but he's managed to stabilize it in some sense of the word. Sure, he's on the edge of wanting to taste blood from some source immediately. But as long as he makes sure to bite his own lip - and he definitely does this - the taste of his own blood kind of keeps it at bay. ]

I'm not the same guy you met in that group. Never gonna be again.

[As he drops his hand away from his face, Bob looks up curiously at him. He doesn’t let go of the wrist between his fingers, but with his other hand, he reaches up, carefully tracing his fingers over the fractured edges of his face. His touch is gentle and feather-light, but pleasantly curious as well.]

Does it hurt? [He asks, voice whisper-quiet.]

Edited (Icon lmao) 2025-05-28 13:17 (UTC)

Yeah.

[ He's not going to hide that fact, it would be counterproductive. But he still can't help but sigh and lean into that touch. ]

But a lot of the pain is because of what I can't allow myself to do.

So this… [That sigh seems to breathe straight through Bob, somehow.] is this what you meant, about a… beast? A- monster? [He continues to trace his fingers lightly against the new lines and breaks in his cheek.]

Things like… what, exactly? [He has a couple of ideas, just wants to see if he’s anywhere near right.]

Almost. This isn't really it. It gets a hell of a lot worse. But I'm constantly working on holding that off. I can't stand to see it and I'm not really in my right mind that way.

[ He shakes his head at the question, not sure how honest he can bear to be. But as long as he continues being touched, that helps, and the cracks are fading. ]

Bloodlust. Anger. Pure passion. Yeah, I even want to fuck like this, and hard.

That sounds… exhausting, if I’m honest.

But you do, control it, don’t you? Or is it more of a precarious balance than all that?

[He moves to twine his fingers with Josh’s— something about the contact seems to be helping. He slides a thumb gently against the side of Josh’s hand.]

Would it help to… you know, indulge a little? [“I’m literally battling bloodlust constantly.”
“Oh… want some of mine?”

Is probably not how Josh expected this conversation to go but here we are!]

[ He's torn between fighting his prime impulses and enjoying the feeling of those touched against his hand. It means he's so distracted, it takes a moment for what Bob said to kick in.

And even then, he doesn't really get it, as shown by the bewildered hesitant in his eyes and voice. ]

In - indulge?

[What interrupted him there was a noise somewhere between a stutter and an outright squeak. Goodness. ]

Yeah, like a snack to tide you over from being ravenous. [Yes, he did kind of just call himself a snack, thanks for noticing!]

You're extremely delicious, sure, but I don't want to hurt you.

And I haven't eaten anything in over two years, because I refuse to do this. It's not affecting me too bad, I think?

[ And suddenly there is an explanation for his particularly circumstances, all of his low body temperature and weight.

Anyway, he is clearly a man in denial of his own issues, or what he's actually been doing to himself. ]

I don’t think you would hurt me. [Maybe that’s a dangerous amount of trust to lay at his feet, but… it’s how he feels.

Things keep slotting into place now, piece by piece, giving him new perspectives on old information.]

Two years is a long time, Josh… is that really- yanno- sustainable? Don’t want you to just wither away. [He doesn’t question any of it. The fact that he isn’t human, the fact that he has somehow survived for two years without food. It’s just a new piece of information they Bob files away in the box in his mind labeled Joshua W..]

You're asking me to use you as a bit of a food source. How could that not hurt you?

[ He's so bewildered, down to his very bones. As for the rest, well - he smiles without humor. ]

Could be withering away. You haven't seen me without a shirt in awhile, have you? Maybe I'll show you and you can tell me if the change is as bad as I feel it is.

[ He shakes his head. No, he doesn't actually want to put him through judging that. ]

I've tried to eat. Anything processed comes up. Can't make myself eat a human. Feed Hannah raw deer I hunt but can't even cross that line myself - pathetic, honestly.

Pain isn’t… always necessarily a bad thing? [Don’t judge him thx!!!]

Only if you want to. No pressure, okay? [He reaches up to draw his thumb across Josh’s lips.] You never have to do anything you don’t want to… not ever.

You aren’t pathetic— [He follows the arch of Josh’s cheek with his thumb.]

We’ll figure it out. You shouldn’t have to starve yourself…

[ He's not judging. If anything, it's the one thing that might make this okay in his head. The comforting touches sure help a lot as well. ]

... If it might not be a bad thing...

[ Is he really going to say this? Damm, he's just going to blame those teeth, even while relaxing from the stress is arranging his face more back to human. ]

You'd have to promise to say the second it's too much. Fucking swear about it.

Of course, babe… I won’t let you hurt me… but I also trust that you just… wouldn’t, anyway. I know you, and I know that you’re pretty intense and maybe some people aren’t built for the kind of love you have for them. But… I was. I am.

I’ve never been as obsessed with someone as I am with you. Which isn’t exactly a… sane thing to say, but- I- just… tell the truth. That’s why people like me, I think, once they give me a chance.

'Pretty intense'. [ He has to laugh at that and the sound might just be a little hysterical. He forces it to stop bubbling out after a moment though and nods. ]

I don't care about what's sane. I care about having you and everything you'll give me. Maybe that means I'm intense, maybe that means you're obsessed to be willing to give it. Who cares?

We work. Every time you call me a pet name in return, every time you value me even a little - I just want to give you the entire universe and destroy all the people who hurt you before. It wasn't the truth telling that made me give you a chance, it was your eyes, and I've never regretted it once.

[ He fidgets with his own collar. For the first time in over two years, he's feeling hot and he's not sure what to do with it. ]

You know it was my birthday recently, right? I didn't really tell you. Felt like I was already getting everything good from you, it'd be greedy to ask for even one more drop. But if you're going to give me this -

[ Yeah. He's blazingly hot, he simply can't concentrate past the fact Bob's pulse is getting really loud in his ears. It should be his own, but he's not getting ready to make a taste of a meal from himself, is he? Damnit, he has to think. He expresses a rough, frustrated noise deep in his throat, like gravel. ]

Let's go somewhere a little more private. You pick wherever. Okay?

[ He can't think well enough to come up with a place. He's so overheated. ]

Edited 2025-05-28 18:45 (UTC)

Sweetheart, you’ve got all of me. Curves, edges, and perfect imperfections. [Maybe Josh can sound like a movie at the drop of a hat; Bob can occasionally speak lyrically when moments click together just so.]

I don’t need the universe. I just need you, and the team- everything else is just bonus material for me, okay? [He reaches up to drag his hand through Josh’s hair, twisting short ends near the nape of his neck between his fingers.

At the admission about what had first caught his attention, Bob gets a little bashful.] My eyes? Why- what’s special about them? [He knows, quite well in fact, that as a general rule, Josh is like… President and Creator of the Bob Reynolds Deserves Better Things Club, and has frequently told Bob that he is, in no uncertain terms or particular order: special, amazing, perfect, and other highly questionable adjectives that Bob could never accept coming from anyone else.]

No, you jerk- [He shoves his shoulder— a gentle, teasing thing with no real heat or intention behind it.] you’ve never told me when it is.

We get somewhere more private, I’ll try to make up for not knowing when it was your birthday. [He murmurs directly into his ear, a secret just for the two of them.]

What's so special about them? [ There he goes, repeating Bob's words again - but he's just so incredulous that the guy doesn't understand what's important about his own eyes. As the self declared President of every club that possibly involves showing Bob he deserves good things, he can't let this stand. But he's a little distracted by the whisper in his ear that follows, he's always weak to stuff like that. ]

May 25. Do you even know how old I am now? Hah.

Your eyes are special because you don't hide anything from them, you couldn't even try. I can read everything about you like a book, and a prettily illustrated one at that.

[ He considers that secret he was told again and he's just as caught on it as the first time. He grabs his hand firmly and, without any further thoughts or comments, is just shameless about trying to drag him to the room he's been given at the Tower.

It's nothing big or special, but it's his and has nothing to do with his family. Therefore it's a heavenly place to take this man that he loves. ]

[There's always this certain level of disbelief in Josh's voice when he realizes that Bob doesn't see the good, or the importance, of anything about himself, or his life. Like, he's just utterly shocked that Bob can't see the perfect Adonis that he is. It's... a little heady, in its own way.]

What- uh...no. I don't think I do... [He laughs a little and looks sheepishly at him.] I'm sorry, that's awful, I feel terrible. I'm such an idiot.

[As soon as the words come out of his mouth, he knows it will be admonished- he just can't help it. The defeatist self-talk is his default wiring after all this time.

He looks appropriately shy when the real answer to his question comes along.]

You talk like poetry feels- have I told you that before?

[He doesn't resist when Josh slides his hand into his, or when he starts tugging him along. He just grins and follows dutifully; there was never any other place he wanted to be anyway.]

Edited (html will be the death of me... lmao) 2025-05-29 03:19 (UTC)

Re: #sexybodyhorror?

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