I'LL SMOKE THE CANCER INTO YOUR BLOOD @imparagoned-blog - Tumblr Blog

’ He only uses me as a heater. I’m hurt. ‘

Oh, hush. Ya wash m'clothes, too!

’ You know I can’t talk to you about work. I would never leave you like that, I hope you’re aware. I am a gentleman, contrary to popular opinion. ‘

But y'ain't that gentle. Heh. An' I know y'can't tell me what yer doin' but a warnin' would be nice. It's been real cold these past few nights wit'out ya.

’ Oh, how you read me like a book. ‘

Yer cute, yaknow. Where th'fuck were ya, anyways? Y'usually tell me what's goin' on, y'usually attach a note t'th'dog. This time, I woke up t'some eggs on th'table and an empty seat. Thought y'left fer good, but I know better than that.

’ Now, was that so hard? ‘

Nah. Didja miss me tha' much?

’ Come now, love, don’t be like that. I’m sorry. ‘

I never told ya y'couldn't have a kiss. C'mere, darlin'.

’ I’m talking about kissing me, you blumbering idiot. ‘

Call me an idiot and I won't even hold yer hand, Jin.

1-800-needy

little facts about me

imparagoned-blog

Name: masanori lee Gender: closeted demiboy Pronouns: He/Him Zodiac: Capricorn Birthday: 4/19/199x Sexuality: homoro homosex Country: South Korea, born in America Religion: — MBTI: —

’ Perhaps, what you haven’t done? Even the darkest of hearts grow weary, darling, and I haven’t seen you in ages. ‘

...I didn't break anythin' while ya were gone. I don't think. There's that.

malpractiice-deactivated2015031

’ Masanori — Masanori, come here, darling. ‘

imparagoned-blog

Why're y'lookin' at me like that. What'd I do this time?

malpractiice-deactivated2015031

i a c h e for the touch of your lips, dear ; ( but much MORE for the touch of your whips, dear. )

inboxideas

What drew you to my OC?

There are tons out there, so tell me what you liked about mine.

« Nah, I’ll let you choose this time. You’re the barbecue expert here. »

So yer sayin' it's yer pick next time? Fine with me, kid. C'mon, let's go. I know this place, down near th' alleyway. It's a bit o' a hole in th'wall, but they have the best meat. Cooked t'literal perfection.

« Barbecue sounds hella. Then we’ll get the shortcake. »

Hella...a'ight, whatever. So, anywhere in particular ya wanna go?

« Always so nice to conclude affairs with you, Lee-hyung. Let’s go. »

A'ight, so what kinda cake you even want? Ya like cheesecake, or som'thin'? If ya see-- Uh. If ya notice anything ya want, lemme know. What do ya wanna eat first, though? Could go for steak. Or barbecue.

’ Well? ‘ Jin’s lips curl into a grin as his hands move from his hips to Masanori’s, the crisp and clean scowl shifting swiftly from his face, replacing it with the expression mentioned. He chuckles, caring not who watches — many here know their names, their faces. Seomun wants them to know, to gawk upon the forbidden acts going on at this moment, and he snorts. ’ I’m WAITING. ‘

God damn it, Jin. { tongue slips into hell and twists itself into oblivion and he doesn't speak, words don't fall from that point on, words choke in his mouth, lava boils in his neck, in his collar, his chest. face, red like blood transfusions, red like plasma donations, red like syringes pulling sanguine liquid. he bites his lip, glances to the hand, hand made of marble, godly hand. hand seen in many contexts. he rolls up his sleeves and keeps his arms crossed, refuses to reciprocate the touch unless the doctor pushes for further examination. }

« Buy me a slice of cake, too, and I may forgive you for all the jokes you’ve said. »

Only if ya promise t'have real food first. Jin might kill me otherwise.

Seo

’ Confessing to be an old man already? Most men don’t do that where I’m from… ‘ A dark chuckle escapes his throat as white-gloved hands rest lightly on his waist, using his height difference to his advantage. A dark chuckle escapes the lips of the medical malpracticioner, stroking the other’s jawline with his gaze.

’ You’ll read the journals I wrote, Masanori. ‘

Pfft.

{ he sneers, looks the other straight in the eye and pulls his hair up into a messy pile of tendrils. shiver runs through him, shiver of memory, and he crosses his arms, looks down. taps his arm, tap to the tune of home, remember the tapping, the tap dance, dance of men. eyes dart back up with words unexpected, he squints his eyes, bores them into the other's. fire can be felt, fire without atoms. without life. } And you can suck a fat one, Seomun.

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I'LL SMOKE THE CANCER INTO YOUR BLOOD