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November 25 - November 25, 2023
“People don’t really change. Or rather, ‘nice’ people can change for the worse, but assholes? Never.”
To his embarrassment, Jordan found himself seeking out the scent of Damiano’s sweat. When Damiano was asleep, Jordan buried his face into Damiano’s underarm, feeling drunk on the spicy raw smell of him, the undiluted scent on his tongue.
If you really wanted to get rid of him, you could have killed him. Choked him in his sleep. Slit his throat with a fork. Stuck the fork in his femoral artery and watched him bleed out. Or dozens of other options. Instead, you’re cuddling him and letting him pet you like a cat.
Distantly, Jordan was exasperated with himself. Why this man? If he had to find a man attractive, why did it have to be this one? The worst possible choice?
He wanted him so badly. He wanted to eat Damiano alive, swallow him whole, consume him in ways that weren’t even possible.
“You didn’t have to come. I hardly forced you.” The laugh that left Damiano’s throat lacked true mirth. “I had no more agency than a moth that flies to a flame.”
He’d always considered himself a pretty good person, but lately he had to reevaluate that opinion. A good person wouldn’t adore a man who was capable of killing in cold blood—who had killed someone in front of him.
“I hate you,” Jordan moaned out, but he did put the soiled fabric into his mouth and suck on it, his other hand flying over his cock. “Oh god, this is so disgusting.” “You love it,” Damiano said. “You’re pathetic enough to suck on my dried come and be grateful for it.”
“At least send me a picture of your cock.” Damiano licked his lips, staring at Jordan’s hole. “I can do better.” That was how he ended up sending Jordan a custom dildo shaped like his cock.
“Everyone loves differently. I think you’re doing pretty great for an emotionally stunted asshole.”
“I’d prefer your fucked-up version of love to the sweetest, most conventional love lavished on me by another person. Because it’s you. And you’re more than enough.
