[mature] the boy who fell into the sky; Haunt

[Misfit]

 

i got issues, you got ‘em too
so give ‘em all to me, and i’ll give mine to you
i got issues, and one of 'em is how bad i need you

It doesn’t matter where they are, though he may memorize this place with the sightless precision of one entirely blind. For as much as his eyes might be healthy and his vision precise in the darkness they are worthless and so his body devotes itself to other senses.

There will be others but this is the first, the greatest of them even though the boy does not know it now. He can only think that perhaps there is a scent to Haunt’s skin, elusive but cool like the air at night, something he can’t recall until he breathes it in again, something easily lost even when his muzzle is pressed in to velvet skin. Misfit growls softly, rising to the provocation of the familiar tongue sweeping over his skin. His neck arches but Haunt backs away and forces Misfit to curl away from the wall to track golden eyes receding into the dark, his own hooves grinding softly in the dust and mud when he turns and follows. One step, two. How deep is the water? A flicker of thought, unimportant in comparison to the sound of Haunts lyrical voice.

“I want something else too.” Amusement threads its way through the words and he presses toward the glow of those eyes, playing the pursuer once more. His muzzle snakes out into empty air or against flesh to land a sharp nip and corral Haunt close to himself again. A forehoof splashes into cold water but forces himself close to the shadow creature in the midst of the cavern, gravelly laughter rumbling up from his throat as he presses his chest to theirs, before stepping back himself and instead pressing his lips beneath Haunt’s right eye before drawing down the delicate, dark face to press them just beneath the jaw and then finally, eagerly, lips to lips. A kiss not meant for a playmate, or a sibling. A kiss for a lover he'll crave all his life. 

MISFIT

@[haunt]