en having a fascination towards kells’ waist? it’s so narrow and I feel like em could circle his hands around it and completely hold him within them 😚
He’s small, so fucking small. His waist trim to the point of nonexistence. Em thinks often about stretching his fingers out and circling around it, just to feel all of Kells trapped between his fingers.
He stares at it all the time, just watching the inked skin on Kells’ torso extend and contract with every breath. How is there room for any organs in there? If Em can splay his hand wide and touch Kells hip to hip? His pinkie can lay flat on one side of his abdomen, and his thumb reaches out to the other side. Where can his intestines and stomach and liver be if he’s only two of Em’s hands wide and flatter than a piece of paper?
Em feels all over his skin to find out. He skirts over Kells’ tattoos like a roadmap to all of his sensitive spots. He traces the bricks and the anarchy symbol just to see the already taught skin pull impossibly tighter under his light touch.
“Stop it.” Kells huffs, woken up by the tickle. They lie together in bed, Em touching Kells and Kells trying to sleep through it.
“No.” Em says, and goes back to his tracing. His hands dip down to the three X’s before Kells flops a hand over his and pulls his hand away by linking their fingers.
“Serious. ‘M trying to sleep and you keep waking me up with your freaky touching.”
“Freaky touching?” Em snakes his hand out of Kells’ grasp and flits back down to his abdomen. He can’t believe how rough they are sometimes. It’s amazing that Kells’ ribcage or hip doesn’t rip through on every thrust. It must hurt, at the very least. He can feel bone without pressing too far down, does Kells not feel it too?
“Yeah,” Kells huffs and turns on his side to face Em. If he thinks that’ll stop him from touching, he’s dead wrong. “It’s like you’re tryna figure out which of my organs you wanna steal first.”
Em rolls his eyes, but doesn’t dignify the comment with his words, and moves his hand again. Kells shivers when Em runs his hand along his side. Em watches in delight.
On his side, Em can see him clear. He has a front view of the tattoos and of the breaths in and out he loves to see. He watches Kells’ tummy swell on a breath, and deflate when he lets it out.
He sees the bed swallow Kells’ side. Their bed is soft. It eats inches off of Kells’ waist until he’s barely there, just jutting hips and snarky comments in the mattress and blankets.
Em knows he’ll disappear one day. He’ll turn sideways and slip out of whatever hole or crack Em has mistakenly left open. But until then, while Kells purrs into his touch and is only pretending to hate it, he’ll hold on tight.
Em will grip those slim hips and that hold narrow waist in his hands until they slip from between his fingers.
