Rat (
plaguedrat) wrote2015-04-10 10:48 pm
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[for Marius - cont.]
Rat laughed, low and throaty, before letting the sound get swallowed up in the kiss. His hips pressed down against Marius', not quite grinding so much as making him aware of their closeness, the pressure. Skin touched skin, both of them lean and warm. It wasn't the same as Grey, there was no replacing him. Rat was fully aware that it was Marius he was kissing, that it was Marius who was filling him with need.
"I won't scare you."
"I won't scare you."
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That's when he recognizes the voice next to him, just as he realizes that there is, in fact, a warm body snuggled up to him.
"Oh..." He gapes a bit, blushing crimson as last night comes back full force into his head. "Shit."
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Two bottles landed on the bed between them. "Drink."
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Gradually, he turns himself on one side to reach for the water bottle Rat tossed onto the bed. He groans as sharp pain shoots through him; his hand shakes a bit as he manages to get the cover off to take a deep, nourishing gulp of water.
All the while, figments of last night keep swirling around in his brain, only adding to his dizziness.
"Shit," he croaks, repeating himself as he tries to ignore the rising nausea within him.
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"If it's at all reassuring," Rat said, still muffled through the pillow. "You have a very impressive grasp of poetry."
It was woefully off mark.
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"I could say the same to you," he replies, unsure of what else to say in this situation. He still can't believe what he did last night.
He glances at Rat, stuffing his face into a pillow, and decides to follow suit.
But not before he catches sight of his back.
"What happened?" He asks, before he can think not to.
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It was as if he was trying to make himself believe that.
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"Yes," he says. "I remember everything. I was talking about your back - what happened?"
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"Food..." He needed to eat but the idea of food was simultaneously revolting.
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And then Rat mentions food, and Marius' stomach clenches in preparation for the inevitable.
"Fuck," he swears, stumbling out of bed to try and make it to the bathroom. His eyes screwed shut against the blinding light, however, he doesn't see where he's going, and collides with the wall, nose first.
"Damn it!" He yelps, falling back flat on his ass and wincing at the pain blossoming in his nose.
But, oddly enough, it distracts him enough to keep him from getting sick.
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"Don't worry your pretty little head," he said, looking around for his shirt and zipping up the pants he'd never fully removed. "I'll go."
Dragging a hand down his face, he stood up and tossed the hotel key to Marius. If he could just endure another hour, he'd be home.
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He swears in French this time, covering his face with his hands as he burns bright red in embarrassment.
"Have a good morning?"
It's as awkward as any other turn of phrase he's come with over the years, but it'll do. He catches the hotel key with another grimace.