Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east

[plaguedrat]

The seventh day has come and gone. Despite others' reassurances that these things end, Rat's starting to despair he'll ever look his own age again. He'd gone to bed that night, still in the shape of his five-year-old self. The burns had still ached and sleep had been hard.

Drifting out of uneasy dreams, the first thing he notices is the lack of pain. Blinking his eyes open, Rat sees the hand that's half under the pillow. It's not a pudgy toddler's hand but that of an eighteen-year-old man. His own hands, his real body.

Rat sits up quickly, pleased that he doesn't have to stand gingerly. He swings long legs over the edge and stands up, hurrying to dress.

Comments

[silenttrainbaby]

A nod: yes. Grey does. This - just this simple thing of staying in a soft, comfortable bed with no need to rush, no worry of anyone walking in - it's all beyond even what Grey would've known to dream of. It is entirely new.

Could he have more kisses, just little tastes of kisses, pressed along Rat's mouth, his jaw, his cheeks.

[plaguedrat]

Yes, as many as he wants. Rat watches his face, perceptive of Grey's expressions and communications.

[silenttrainbaby]

There's a freedom now that comes with what they've done, isn't there? Grey can touch Rat as he pleases, Rat can touch him. It loosens the set of Grey's shoulders as he lies back, cast hugged to his chest. He takes a deep breath, lets it out.

[plaguedrat]

Distantly again and again, his mind reminds him that contentment leads to complacency. To him such things are poisonous and dangerous and yet the idea of pushing Grey off just seems painful.

Trying not to think deeply on those implications mean, he draws Grey closer and tucks under his chin.

[silenttrainbaby]

Grey's bandaged hand traces circles on Rat's shoulder; he puts his nose in his hair. When his cast is off, they can do so much more. Now, he feels Rat's body against his and he likes it. So much.

[plaguedrat]

It feels safer than he wants to admit and Rat exhales quietly before fumbling for his blanket, drawing it over them.

[silenttrainbaby]

Even the blanket is soft and Grey is still getting used to soft. He's comfortable like this. For once, even his cast doesn't itch.

His stomach growls, though, and Rat can feel Grey smile.

[plaguedrat]

Right. Rat had been getting food before they got caught up in themselves. Reluctantly, he sits up and moves out from the blanket to see what food he has.

[silenttrainbaby]

Wait. Grey can't catch him in time and he follows, not bothering with clothes, padding in naked after Rat.

[plaguedrat]

Picking his shorts off the floor, Rat steps into them while he peers into the fridge. Its contents are worse than ever after his week as a child. Mostly, it's a few leftovers from caretakers like Daphne and Aurora.

[silenttrainbaby]

It doesn't matter. Grey's stomach always growls. He comes up behind Rat, trailing a finger down the knobs of his spine.

[plaguedrat]

It distracts him from his pursuit of food and Rat rocks back from where he's crouched in front of the fridge, eyes closed. He forgets to be protective, to flinch away to protect the scars, just lets Grey touch him.

"Take whatever you want," he says, gesturing at the food.

[silenttrainbaby]

Leaning over Rat, casted hand still on his back, Grey pulls out a random box and sets it on the counter to open it. What is that?

[plaguedrat]

"Potato salad...whatever that is," Rat says, thinking he's not sure he's encountered anything that looks like a salad.

[silenttrainbaby]

Reaching in, Grey picks up a chunk of something, smells it, and then tentatively tastes it.

It's not terrible.

[plaguedrat]

Rat finds two spoons and puts the container on the counter. "I'll get some stuff later. So I can cook."

It's for Grey, he tells himself, not for this city nor for himself. His attachments are to the other boy. That's how he'll justify it.

[silenttrainbaby]

So far for Grey, food as appeared from somewhere he couldn't see. It's a mystery. So when Rat says he'll cook, that's an abstract concept. He picks up his fork and he nods. Stabbing at the "potato salad," he takes another bite, naked hip leaned against the counter.

[plaguedrat]

It's something Rat can change from Grey, if he wants it. With a bite of food halfway to his mouth, he realizes he's staring at Grey and not doing a very good job of hiding it.

[silenttrainbaby]

What? Grey looks back, chewing his potato salad (though he's deciding quickly that he doesn't like it). He cocks his head. Is Rat all right?

[plaguedrat]

Aside from the sudden realization of the depth of is infatuation, Rat's fine. He leans over and cups Grey's chin for a kiss.

[silenttrainbaby]

That involves some quick swallowing and a clattering of the fork to the counter so that Grey can kiss him back, but he does. Because he wants to, because Rat's kisses most definitely taste better than potato salad, and make his belly feel tight, too.

[plaguedrat]

Rat laughs, leaning forward to press Grey's back against the counter and deepen the kiss. "If we keep doing this, I'm never going to be able to get us food."

[silenttrainbaby]

But Rat started it! Grey smiles though, in his own subdued way. He nips at Rat's mouth, fingers curled in the waistband of his shorts.

[plaguedrat]

Yes, he did. It's why Rat is laughing. The feel of Grey's fingers shoots across his skin, reminding him that he's the only one wearing any clothing. And that it's not much at all.

[silenttrainbaby]

It isn't. And it doesn't take much for Grey to slip his bandaged hand inside, knuckles brushing sensitive flesh.