they’re slipping into dangerous territory, here. not with the choking in and of itself- he knows bird, he could read the signs for when enough was enough. he can read what’s happening right now– the way he’s leaning into pico’s hand, giving him an unspoken signal that if he really wanted, he could.
he doesn’t, of course. he has enough self control to stop himself, no matter how strong his sick little desire to choke out bird was. to sit on top of his little bird and press down until there were tears, unable to breathe but putting so much trust in pico, and he could just end bird then and there–
it’s out before he can even think about it, really. just like he hadn’t even thought about the way his hand had moved so naturally to tighten further around birds neck. not enough to really choke him- not in this position. but enough to put pressure on his windpipe.
yeah, that dangerous territory has been entered, and pico needs to leave. now.
he doesn’t speak again until he’s off the bed, that grin that had been hidden behind bird replaced with a glare, forcing down any and all of- whatever that was.
he shouldn’t be doing that shit. he was here to get bird to shut up, not–
bird has a girlfriend. he’s moved on. pico’s doing nothing but hurting himself here.
“ don’t pull that shit again. consider this a warning. “
he’s being so generous, issuing a warning instead of killing bird like he’d threatened.
do you ever go so long without something, that when you finally get it, it’s only then you realized how much you missed it and need it? like chronic pain when it finally goes away, you’ve just gotten used to dealing without and forgot how good it was before?
good boy.
it’s not fair, honestly. how those two words hit bird like a train, stealing his breath (the grip was tighter, but sadly not tight enough for that --not as tight as bird was aware he craved so fucking desperately. ) and leaving him with a whine building in his throat, barely cut off by modesty that never used to be there before and his very last brain cell.
it’s a good thing, really, that pico’s getting up. it’s a good thing that he’s leaving and stopping this before anything can happen.
so why are birds eyes stinging, a bit? why is one hand curling into the bedspread, torn between the flustered and definitely not pg-13 feelings that had been pooling in his gut for a moment and feeling strangely ... lost ? his other hand comes up to stop just at his throat, just short of mimicking the way that pico had been holding it a few seconds ago and squeezing.
instead, like everything when it came to them, it was left in an awkward in between.
he wants to ask him to come back. to stay. to talk to him about everything they still haven’t. but instead he finds himself just nodding, not able to stop himself from lifting gaze to follow where pico would be climbing out the window and leaving again and.
“ i ahh ... “ a hard blink, like he hadn’t realized that english was already not an option just from that little bit. only two people on this earth can wreck him so fast, but it’s easy to forget it’s more than even one sometimes. “ be...beep bop bo bah. “
a thumbs up and a forced smile. he got it.
also, can he have his phone back now please.
