the lip touching

the five senses

james:
sights: blue skies dotted with cartoon-perfect clouds, hands raised in mock defence, someone winking at you, fields of green in the spring, walking backwards, eyes being lit up, flannel shirts, grinning so wide it hurts, cocking your head to one side, a rose in a cola bottle
sound: the wind rustling through the trees, lightning strikes, fingers snapping, rapping knuckles against a desk, unrestrained laughter, easy, simple (like everything else)
smells: freshly mown grass, morning breath, toast burning, rain on concrete
tastes: strawberries, mint, toothpaste, water when you are parched, when you need it more than you need it to breathe, running down your lips
touch: tracing the line of a jaw, knowing what someone else is going to say before they say it, finishing someone else’s sentences for them, your heart skipping a beat, wind running through your hair, flying

sirius:
sights: heaving chests, running both hands through your hair, dark eyelashes, catching someone looking at you, like they can’t help it, like they can’t not look at you, the lights going down in a cinema, the mottled blue and purple of a bruise, a black so dark it is almost bright, dried blood crusted around your lips
sounds: thunder rumbling, cracking knuckles, the growl of an engine, profanity and the way it twists your lips, the way it makes you whole
smells: cigarette smoke, hazelnuts, gasoline, sharp peppermint that sticks in the lungs, gasoline, ink, dark and black and bloody
tastes: roasted hazelnuts, black coffee at 3am, bitterness
touch: sandpaper tongues, fingers on the hot, sharp glint of steel, sweat on skin, blood running through your veins so fast you can barely breathe, throwing a punch, driving with the windows down, hands against a brick wall, like you have hit the wall, like you can’t get past it

remus:
sights: autumn leaves dead on the ground like carrion, circulation being cut off in your fingers, the colour of wine, deep and burgundy and looking a little too much like blood—
sounds: waves crashing, a mixtures of torrential and calm all at once, a guttural growl in the back of the throat, the crunch of gravel, twigs snapping, heavy sighs, the crackle of vinyl, something tearing, something being ripped
smells: woodsmoke, wrapping paper, fresh linen, old parchment
tastes: blood in the mouth, milk chocolate, tea leaves
touch: picking away at a scab, biting your nails, ripping up handfuls of grass, teeth sinking into your lower lip, a barking laugh of surprise escaping your lips, like you didn’t know it was there, like you didn’t know you were capable of it 

peter:
sights: a fairground in full swing, empty chairs at empty tables, a million pairs of shoes piled at the front door, turned backs, palms upturned, to catch, to hold, the one chipped union-jack mug in the cupboard, the empty stretch of tarmac at the airport and the feeling that sticks in your throat like glass, like you don’t know where you’re going, like you don’t know where you’ve been
sounds: walnut shells crushing underfoot, the wind buffeting along the beach, the crackling of foiled candy wrappers, a phone that rings, and rings, and rings (but no-one answers)
smells: wet earth, roasted chestnuts, the smell of baking, musty, like something is dying, like something is already dead
tastes: sorrow, chocolate bars, bubblegum, chewing something that just won’t swallow
touch: feet on carpet, carpet burn, grinding your teeth, laughing so hard it hurts your sides, starting a sentence you forget to finish

lily:
sights: daffodils in the spring, shelves bursting with books, like there is so much life and knowledge there it cannot be contained, mothers holding their children, pastel ice cream flavours, bunches of flowers outside a florist’s, your drink being placed in front of you in a coffee shop
sounds: the roar of a motorcycle in the distance, heavy metal rock, laughter, bells chiming, a page being turned, walking on cobblestones, clinking china
smells: cinnamon, grass, lillies, tea tree, the way perfume lingers on your clothes, fresh night air
tastes: copper, metallic and sharp on the tongue, not quite bloody but just enough, vanilla, a sadness so heavy it is almost sweet
touch: the material of your skirt swirling around you as you spin, like you cannot stop spinning, you won’t stop spinning, breathing unsteadily, porcelain, the roughness and heaviness of denim, someone else’s hand in yours, the way love has a pulse and you can feel it under his skin

Dear Charlie,

This is something I might never tell him, maybe he won’t get it, maybe it’ll be a mess, but I had to let it out and let someone else know:

“It’s like you’re always there. Somewhere. You’re never fully gone. You never really disappear. And I can feel you. And I think about you.  And I don’t think my heart is open for you to go, even for a second. You’re in there radiating somehow. And I just wish I could put this into simpler words. I wish it would be easier to explain. Maybe if I could show you what it felt like I wouldn’t feel like I’m exploding somehow. Something inside me is collapsing constantly because I want to talk to you. I want to tell you everything. I want to hear your voice and touch your lips and feel your hands. I want to smell you and just feel you close. Because inside me, you’re always there, always reminding me you’re there. I can feel you. But I can’t feel you on the outside. I can’t see you on the outside. I can’t touch you. So, that is why I’m always exploding. This part of me that has become so big, this part of me that is only you, is only filled halfway. It’s inside me, you’re inside me. But you’re not beside me.

It hurts sometimes but it’s okay. My heart can take a lot. I’ve proven it over time. It’s okay if it hurts because of you. I’m not alone in this, you sometimes hurt too. Maybe not like me, maybe not as strong or constant as me, but it’s okay. I hurt and I explode. But it’s okay because it’s you. Because it’s only with you. Only with you I’d go through this. I love you. God, I love you so much. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I think this doesn’t even make sense, but I’m just trying to put it into words. The consistency of you there, the never-ending presence, the explosion, the collision. It’s all inside me. A storm, forever raging at the thought of you. ”

Thanks for listening, Charlie. You’re always there.

Sincerely, Cricket

Victor and Yuuri are the kind of couple who’d plan to propose to each other on the exact same day and Yuuri pulls Victor to the side with a “Victor, there’s something I wanna ask you–” as he’s taking out the little velvet box and Victor just goes “oh no”. And Yuuri gets all insecure because does he not want to, is this rejection, is it too soon? And he gets all small and toys with the box in his hands, stumbling over his words to make it better because imsorryitsokaywedonthavetoifyourenotcomfortable but Victor stops him, grabbing him by the shoulders like “no, no, I mean—"and he takes out a ring from his coat pocket "I was going to slip this into your drink tonight at dinner” and then they both start crying and they’re touching foreheads as they put the rings on each other and I’m dying in the back because I love them

Turn Ons:

1: Extremely passionate conversation on a specific topic that is both intellectual and also shows a window into what she’s all about and what she cares about, and what upsets her about the world.

2: Smiling while kissing.

3: Good smells.

4: Lip biting.

5: Eye contact that not only communicates something more than just “I see you”, but really shows emotion and makes you feel like you are the only thing being seen in that moment, special, whatever you want to call it.

6: Hip grabbing.

7: Face touching.

8: Moaning.

One of my favorite things is when my touch makes you moan ever so slightly. Some how I touched, squeezed, clawed, pulled, or bit in just the right way that you couldn’t control it falling from your lips. That’s when I know you’re mine, at least for the time being.
—  My deepest pleasures

Yuri and Victor: 

Straight people: Obviously, they just hugged. 

Yuri: 

Straight people: Platonic

2

In a haze, a stormy haze
I’ll be round, I’ll be loving you always
Always
Here I am and I’ll take my time
Here I am and I’ll wait in line always

Always.