#dining writes

[diningwiththeasquiths]

Death by a Paper Cut

A light-hearted Devil’s Minion ficlet (650 words)

For @animalceramics, happy Valentine’s Day! 🧡

“I recall the Seine being particularly-”

“Ow, shit,” Daniel says, flinching at the nasty flash of pain in his finger. 

“Are you alright, Daniel?” 

Louis’ voice has taken on a gentle quality that, as a mortal, really makes you feel patronised. 

“Yeah I’m fine, comes with the territory. As far as occupational hazards go, it’s still marginally preferable to getting shot at,” Daniel quips in a dry tone.

Paper cuts are such a common occurrence in his life that he doesn’t pay it much mind, other than frowning down at his finger to check how deep it is. He pushes his thumb right underneath where the skin has separated, and sure enough some blood wells up. 

The fact that he is now actively bleeding in front of two vampires doesn’t even occur to him. His focus is mainly on getting some resemblance of a veracious answer out of Louis with his next question, as well as the least amount of interference from ever-vigilant mister chatty-at-the-most-inconvenient-times.

He’s about to bring his finger to his mouth (the way he deals with shallow injuries back at home) so they can get this show back on the road, when he realises that the aforementioned mister had been in the middle of a sentence which now lingers in the air unfinished.

Huh.

After another long moment Armand seems to finally remember himself, pressing his lips together and dragging his gaze upwards to Daniel’s face. Daniel can practically see the turmoil and malfunction happening inside his head. Error, vampire.exe has stopped working.

Armand’s unblinking eyes are fixed on the cut. Only a thin ring of amber remains around their massive pupils, and Daniel thinks he’d probably be pissing his pants right now if not for the fact that Armand’s eyes are hooded in a way that makes him seem more like a concupiscent lover than a bloodhungry predator.

For once, his carefully schooled features and controlled demeanor are absent. Daniel greedily takes it all in, this peek behind steel walls, the way Armand looks slack-faced and utterly mesmerised. Despite only a hint of them being visible behind parted lips, it’s glaringly obvious that his fangs have dropped.

“Well,” Daniel says, because he has the survival instincts of a dodo, “that’s embarrassing for you.”

Lucky for him fortune indeed appears to favour fools, for Armand seems to decide a strategic retreat is the way to go here. Perhaps since it’s difficult to deliver a zinger of a comeback when you still don’t have your fangs under control. 

“Please excuse me,” he manages to mumble while rigidly rising to his feet. As he walks out of the room, his pace and movements appear just a little too controlled for him to convincingly convey his calm. 

As deeply perplexed as he is amused, Daniel licks the small cut clean while raising his eyebrows at Louis as if to say: ‘can you believe this shit?’

And really, Louis should forget those vampiric Gifts and focus instead on practicing his poker face, because he’s staring off in the direction of where Armand vamoosed looking like his boyfriend just grew an extra head. Daniel instantly itches with the urge to pick up his pen and write a bunch of notes and follow-up questions, but that would undoubtedly expose that he’s taken up the side activity of studying Armand like a particularly interesting insect.

Armand doesn’t make his return at any point during the remainder of the session. Daniel half-expected him to breeze back into the room and pretend real hard that popping a fang boner over a minor paper cut was no big deal. In any case, it’s nice to have Louis all to himself, without unwelcome interruptions, even if Louis remains somewhat distracted throughout the evening. 

That makes two of them, really. Each time Daniel begins to jot something down, the sting of the cut makes him completely lose his train of thought. Yet instead of irritation, he repeatedly finds himself suppressing a smile.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

I wrote some Daniel x Raglan, because I think they'd be hot together. No smut here, just some blatant flirting. (Might write a smutty sequel someday.) Hope you enjoy, lemme know if this floats your boat too!

“How’s the mackerel? Any good?”

Raglan makes an effort not to react other than glancing over to his right, knowing already who he’ll be getting face to face with. Who and what. 

The vampire Daniel Molloy. Wearing a smile on his face that’s almost smug enough to be a smirk. 

“Hello again,” he replies, more nonchalant than he feels in close vicinity to a supernatural apex predator. 

Molloy plops down on the stool next to him with a small, unnecessary groan—a habit he has yet to grow out of. The two of them seated together at a restaurant countertop again, it can’t be a coincidence.

“You got me, I waited to approach you until you went here. For a mysterious guy, you’re very predictable,” Molloy admits, flashing a grin.

“And you’re supposed to be documenting Lestat de Lioncourt’s tour in the next city over.”

“Yeah… I figured we could use a little break from each other. Guy’s exhausting to be around. But you probably know that better than I do.”

“So what brings you here? Did you come all this way looking for nicer company?”

“You could say that,” Molloy says, his gaze from behind tinted glasses intensifying as he elaborates. “You see, during our previous dinner dates I got a certain… vibe from you. And,” he pauses for a second while maintaining his unblinking stare, “now I have confirmation my instincts remain infallible.”

Having his mind probed isn’t particularly new or chilling to Raglan, but it does make him wonder what Molloy thinks he just discovered. Then Molloy licks his lips. Not so much in a hungry fledgling vampire way as in a highly suggestive way. 

Oh.

Raglan raises his eyebrows and doesn't reply. He refuses to be the first to break eye contact. 

Molloy lets out a low chuckle, then leans over and says, “Technically, this is our third date. You know what that means, right?” 

The way he says it leaves zero room for misinterpretation. This isn’t the first time a vampire has propositioned Raglan, nor the second. But it’s the first time a part of him is actually considering the possibility. He knows Molloy can sense his interest—rather annoying—as well as his unease. 

“And why would I risk being your dinner tonight?”

“C’mon man, don’t tell me you’re afraid of me now? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your surprise visits stopped after I got turned. Barely a message since then. All feels a bit discriminatory if you ask me.”

“It’s called common sense, you should try it sometime.”

Molloy actually laughs at that. “See, why would I eat you? You’re fun. It’d be a waste.”

“Feeling lonely already? You’re really speedrunning this whole vampire thing.”

“Don’t pretend like the whole vampire thing isn’t a turn-on for you. Not shaming you, by the way, I remember all too well how hot it used to get me.”

“Yes, well… Look where that got you,” Raglan says, his resolve not to sleep with Molloy gradually waning. Perhaps he’s been a little lonesome himself. They do get on quite well with each other, even now. Not quite friendly, not quite mutual respect, but there is something there.

“Would it make you feel better if we ask Agent Rashid to chaperone? He’d probably be secretly into it,” Molloy smiles, still eyeing him like he's a five-course meal. 

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But you’ll come with me to my hotel suite anyway?” 

Molloy sounds hopeful. And dangerously sincere.

Raglan sighs deeply. “Let me finish my mackerel first.”

“The fish here is that good huh?”

“It's even better with company.”

[diningwiththeasquiths]

I've been thinking about genderbend Devil's Minion and 🫠 NSFW musings below ⬇️

Danielle's breasts sagging due to age and nursing her two sons all those years ago. Armande worshipping those tits with her hands and mouth for ages while she humps Danielle's thigh, leaving a large bloody smear across the map of thread veins on Danielle's soft skin.

Danielle voraciously and sloppily eating Armande out, feeling herself becoming wetter than she has been in decades after repeatedly swallowing the metallic slickness that keeps coating her tongue.

Danielle finally pulling away from between Armande's still lightly twitching inner thighs and Armande being greeted by the sight of Danielle's mouth, chin, and even her nose stained a bright red. A view so breathtaking—if she had breath to take away—that she hauls Danielle up for a teeth-rattling kiss.

Armande's hand finding her way down to Danielle's slippery wet folds. While being mindful of her long claws, she knows very well that every light scrape will have Danielle moaning into her mouth just a little bit harder, until the combination of the soft finger pad on her swollen clit and the pointy nails digging into her flesh send her over the edge.

Armande pressing her sticky fingers to Danielle's mouth and slipping into Danielle's mind to experience what she would taste like if her own tongue was still able to differentiate flavours.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

My latest rarepair is Daniel x Felix, because Daniel is my fandom doorknob and I think the non-vampiric age gap is hot. Plus they have fun potential: fledgling4fledgling but make it a boomer and a millennial

So here's a semi-smutty ficlet to get it out of my system

When the young-looking vampire trailing after Lestat had made eyes at him, Daniel didn't have to think hard on it. He was going through something he privately thought of as a second puberty, and whenever the opportunity of sex presented itself he was more than eager to take it.

Turns out the other vampire was also eager to take "it", back in Daniel's hotel room.

Felix's full cheeks gave him a charming boyish quality, and the glinting of his gold tooth kept drawing Daniel's eye more than the green-and-purple of his irises did. Combined with the chains around his neck and the metal spike in his earlobe, it kinda felt like fucking a 90s boyband member.

A boyband member with some issues or at the very least some sort of kink, because Felix kept moaning things in his ear like, "Oh fuck, yes daddy, please please, ohh." And, "Oh god please daddy, please yes, fuck me daddy."

Which wasn't so much an issue as it was really fucking hot, but it did made Daniel vaguely wonder how close in age they really were. You never knew with vampires, Felix might even be his senior.

Afterwards, when they were sated and lying next to each other, the other vampire curled up against him, the vague curiosity in the back of Daniel's mind was free to bloom into the habitual need to ask questions.

"So, Felix, how old were you when you were turned?"

"Thirty," Felix breathed against his shoulder. It felt tepid, like he hadn't quite fed enough to properly warm his body. Perhaps they could share a meal later on, the night was still young after all.

"Nice." He decided he wasn't jealous. Being eternally young was very much overhyped. "And how long ago was that?"

"Four years now, I think."

Daniel twisted sideways to look at him with a speed so jarring he wasn't quite sure it was a natural movement. "You're thirty-four?"

"Yeah. Does that bother you?"

Daniel gave it some thought, and came to the conclusion that he was more upset at the fact that he didn't really care than anything else. It was scary, the amount of fucks he gave these days, which had always been low but was now far below zero.

"Not as much as it should." Unable to help himself, he kept probing. "Wanna tell me what the hell you are getting out of this?"

"Well, you uh, you kinda have this fatherly vibe..." The coy look Felix gave him made Daniel's spent dick twitch. Maybe they could go another round before catching a bite to eat. So to speak. Heh.

"Ah. Glad to be of service, I guess," he sighed, like it was such a hardship to fuck someone who hadn't been alive yet when his first divorce had been finalized. The thought was so outrageous it made him chuckle a little.

Felix flashed an aureate smile back at him and snuggled up against his side. Daniel wrapped an arm around him. He was on a roll now. His pillow talk sometimes became an impromptu interview, but his bedpartners were usually flattered by his profound interest in them.

"Did Lestat turn you?"

"Nah. I don't know who did, don't know their name. They just did it and left. Lestat found me and took me in."

"It's a shitty thing, being turned like that. My maker's a real piece of shit too." He stroked the smooth expanse of Felix's back. Felix's eyes slipped close, the hint of a smile lingering on his lips. It was a sweet sight.

Daniel had been a lousy father, but at least, for tonight, he made a decent daddy.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

Kinktober Day 11: Biting / marking

Words: 394

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Daniel x Armand

Summary: Just a little post-Dubai ficlet in which Daniel is still human.

Daniel sags back against the pillow feeling like a wrung-out, limp dishrag. Inside his heaving chest his heart beats wildly enough for it to be slightly disconcerting. 

“Fuck… Is this how I die?” he manages to breathe out, staring up at the depiction of fluffy clouds and blue sky on his bedroom ceiling. Small, sluggish rivulets of blood run from a frankly excessive amount of bite marks on his body.

Two on his right arm—his wrist and inner elbow, to be specific. A third had reopened the old scars on the right side of his neck, that one had definitely felt the most possessive. There are also two canine-sized holes in the sagging muscles of his left pec. But the majority of the marks are located on his inner thighs, the last of which in such close proximity to his junk that it had gotten him off. 

Armand scoots up to settle beside him, caressing his shoulder and upper arm with a slightly-too-cool hand in soothing motions, up and down, up and down. Though the words he speaks are less assuasive. 

“So melodramatic.” 

Daniel blinks a few times in order to clear the black spots from his vision, then tilts his head to look at him. Armand's normally wide open eyes are lidded and his jaw is slack with satisfaction, revealing the very tips of his bloodied fangs. It makes Daniel less self-conscious about coming untouched and a lot sooner than he wanted, like some sort of vampire-sex novice.

“You turned me into a fucking colander.”

Armand, as per usual, is lightning-quick to justify himself.

“I merely took one or two small sips each time, no more than that. I'm well aware you are in bigger need of that medicamented blood than I am, beloved.”

“Oh aren't you the pinnacle of chivalry.”

Armand huffs a fond laugh, his fangs visibly retracting. He leans in to kiss Daniel on the lips, one kiss quickly turning into several.

A different sort of warmth overtakes the post-orgasmic glow in Daniel's spent body. He pulls Armand close with unsteady hands and the vampire curls up against him with a content little sigh. Neither of them are in a hurry to move. The array of love bites gradually clot and stop bleeding.

There's a lingering, almost imperceptible tension in Armand’s body which only relaxes once Daniel’s heartbeat levels out.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

Kinktober Day 2: Mutual Masturbation

Words: 1074

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Daniel x Armand

Summary: Daniel thinks about “Rashid” a little too much and a little too deep.

“Your doctor in New York was consulted and has given consent. You’ll find a note from him in your electronic mailbox.”

Unusual wording aside, Rashid’s manner of speaking also caught Daniel’s attention. Its haughty inflection sticks with him throughout the day, still running through his mind as he gets ready for bed that night, brushing his teeth and staring at his own tired features in the large, light-rimmed mirror. The way Rashid talks to him leaves barely any room for argument. Daniel hasn’t been shut down like that since before his last divorce. It’s kind of hot.

Nope. 

He’s not doing this. Not even, especially not, in the false privacy of his own perfectly climate-controlled guest bedroom. 

After stripping down to his boxer shorts and putting on a T-shirt—so old it might precede Rashid, but nice and soft with only a few small holes in it—he gets into bed and attempts to find a comfortable sleeping position, plagued with the knowledge that he’ll wake up at least twice in order to use the bathroom. Despite it having been another long and draining day, his thoughts are not ready to quiet down yet. 

“We suggest you begin on the left.”

Only Rashid hadn’t been suggesting. The tone of his voice had made it very clear that he was ordering Daniel. His dick gives an interested twitch at the recollection.  

Huh. 

Well, shit. 

There’s something about the combination of Rashid’s pretty yet dispassionate face and the austerity of his words. Like he considers Daniel to be far, far beneath him. On one end of the spectrum there is Louis, the God, and on the other end there’s Daniel, the filth underneath Rashid’s shoe. 

He’s nearing half-mast now. Jesus Christ. There’s no way he’s going to give in to this, this unexpected and extremely ill-timed bout of horniness. Tell that to his overactive brain though. Something about a gift and a curse. 

What would it be like, with Rashid? He’d boss Daniel around in the bedroom for sure. Tell him what to do, what position to fold his aching body in, impassive eyes watching him struggle to comply, soft-spoken words dripping with thinly veiled venom.

Would Rashid touch him at all? Maybe even demand Daniel to pleasure him? Or would he avoid any physical contact between them and make Daniel touch himself, put on a pathetic little show for him? 

Ah, but that’s where the gloves come in. 

The thought of sterile black latex on his bare skin makes Daniel’s breath hitch. The same two-word thought that made him book that ticket to Dubai International Airport flashes through his mind.

Fuck it.

What’s the point of resisting his high-risk urges when his days are numbered no matter what? Might as well live a little while he still can. Consequences be damned. 

Throwing the sheets back, he raises his hips off the mattress and tugs his underwear down just far enough to expose himself. It’s been a long while since he’s been in the mood for self-gratification. The uncomfortable dryness of his hand only feeds the fantasy he’s got going on in his head, so he doesn’t bother with spit. Slowly but surely he gets himself as hard as he can get these days. 

In his mind’s eye, Rashid stands next to his bed fully clothed, just a titillating peak of his chest visible. His latex-covered hand moves clinically over Daniel’s cock. His gaze is detached– No, he’s not even looking at Daniel, the ever-present iPad in his other hand holds his full attention. Daniel lets out a soft groan, needing it faster but also feeling the near-painful friction of rubber against sensitive nerve endings. Rashid pays him no mind. The pace of his hand remains unchanged, methodical, almost machine-like. He goes through the motions absent-mindedly, like getting Daniel off is the same to him as making a cup of coffee.  

His dick is becoming more sore by the minute, almost too sore to keep fueling his arousal, forcing Daniel to switch it up and move things along. He keeps the same pace, but fantasy-Rashid finally shifts his attention from his screen to Daniel. The neutral look on his face doesn’t budge. The words he speaks might be encouraging, but his delivery is as cool and professional as always. Like the way Daniel is falling apart in front of him—because of him—doesn’t affect him at all. He sounds almost patronizing, especially with that accent of his. 

“That’s it Mr. Molloy. It won’t be long now, will it? Go ahead, make a mess of yourself. That’s it. Good boy.”

Yeah, that'll do it.

Huffing through gritted teeth, Daniel rubs himself through his orgasm. The toe-curling friction on his cock has crossed into something actually painful, but intense ripples of pleasure cancel it out. As soon as those dwindle he has to stop touching himself. It feels like he rubbed himself raw. The tremor in his right hand makes itself known again with a vengeance. Catching his breath a little, he regains the ability to think clearly enough to berate himself for the lack of self-control, praying that Louis did not pick up on any of that. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to take his underwear off completely, use it to clean himself up as best as he can, throw it on the floor, get back under the covers, turn over onto his stomach and drift off to sleep. So fuck it, that’s exactly what he does.

Some distance away, in the large open space of the master bedroom, Armand wipes himself down, his movements sluggish but meticulous. The giddiness of what has just transpired is quickly fading. It was reckless of him to listen in to Daniel’s thoughts and get carried away like that. He knows Louis is currently fully preoccupied with all the horrible things the interview is stirring up, and yet… this cannot happen again. 

He does make a mental note to integrate the remark “that’s it, Mr. Molloy” into one of his interactions with Daniel tomorrow, should the opportunity present itself. The little thrill he gets out of rattling Daniel is too good to pass up on, and he sees no reason to deny himself the delight of watching the other man squirm. 

Picking up his iPad, he scrolls through enough art auctions that the fluttery feeling in the center of him—something he has long since come to associate with Daniel—eventually fades into the background. 

[diningwiththeasquiths]

Kinktober Day 5: Threesome

Words: 878 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Louis x Daniel x Armand Summary: The surpise we all wanted to happen.

He would never admit this to a living soul, but a deeply buried part of Daniel had (foolishly) hoped there would still be some eroticism involved with coming to see the eternally young and beautiful vampire, despite, after so many decades, being old and decrepit himself. 

In the end, it was not just eroticism awaiting him in Dubai, but something more profound and precious as well. 

And now, well…

“We have a surprise for you,” Louis had said to him, a couple of hours ago. Which turned out to be the understatement of the century.

The lavish dinner had been nice, although the numerous glances exchanged between Louis and his boyfriend had been very distracting, and made Daniel feel (hope) like he was going to end up as dessert.

Presently, lying on his back with Armand between his spread thighs pushing into him, and his head thrown back over the edge of the bed so Louis can stuff his face full of cock, Daniel can’t help but wonder if there’s a heaven after all and he somehow managed to blunder his way into it. Then a sharp set of nails digs into the meat of his hips, causing him to gag a little, and he thinks: ‘nah, I’m still alive and this is really happening’.

Easy. You’re doin’ great.

Louis’ voice in his head. The sensation of thumbs stroking his stretched cheeks. Daniel wonders why Louis doesn’t just talk out loud, since it’s not his mouth that’s currently occupied.

Our beautiful boy. Still asking questions, even now. 

That’s Armand, sounding amused and too fond to be anything but sincere. Daniel got two vampires for the price of one. Special sale. Get them while you're still warm and breathing.

They’re both inside his head now, probably listening in on his descend into madness. Usually he hates the invasiveness of it, but after being split open on their dicks and filled to the brim from both ends he finds himself utterly unable to give a shit about the mental intrusion. Now it’s just another way for them to be intimate with him. 

Every well-aimed thrust of Armand makes him take Louis a little bit deeper down his throat. They build up a rhythm that makes Daniel’s brain feel like it's been replaced with cotton wool. Soon there’s not a single coherent or self-conscious thought left in him. He can hear the two vampires telepathically speaking things to him and each other, but can't seem to focus on the meaning of their words.

The constant murmuring inside his head provides a pleasant background to the push and drag of Armand’s cock and the hefty weight of Louis’ dick against his tongue. Breathing heavily through his nose, Daniel is faintly aware of his own erection and the way it jumps with arousal against the flab of his abdomen.

Then Armand leans over him to mouth wetly at the long stretch of his exposed throat, and Daniel’s brain suddenly manages to string together some words that almost resemble a sentence.

Yeah, do it, fuck, want you to, please. 

Instead of sinking in his teeth, Armand licks and sucks Daniel's skin like he’s able to taste the blood rushing underneath. Daniel wonders if Armand can feel where Louis’ dick is currently lodged inside of him.

He’s not above repeating his plea to get bitten, and is about to, when Louis gently takes one of his hands and brings it up to his face. The feeling of Louis’ parted lips against the inside of his wrist reduces Daniel’s vocabulary to a single word.

Please. Please. Please. Please.

They take pity on him, or perhaps on themselves, and bite down simultaneously. 

The world drops away.

Between their cocks, their fangs and their telepathic minds, Daniel is so chock-full of vampire he doesn't know which way is up or down. He tries to hold onto something, anything; an object, a thought, a word, a sound. But they all elude him, swept away in a maelstrom of immense sensation. Unable to discern where he ends and the other two begin, his sense of self has vanished and it would be terrifying if it didn’t feel so unimaginably good.

Somewhere in the void of ecstasy, a domino brick topples and sets the rest of them in motion. The ceaseless bliss somehow keeps on growing and expanding until, ultimately, it gives way to oblivion. 

When Daniel regains consciousness, he’s nestled in between two very clingy vampires, who are touching him like he's something precious. Which is funny, because one of them has left deep claw marks on Daniel's hips and the other may have very well completely wrecked his larynx.

On what is a bed of considerable size, the three of them have managed to huddle together as if attempting to fit into one coffin. Daniel’s not complaining. What’s there to complain about when you’ve got a gorgeous man lapping at your sore throat like a kitten and another nuzzling the hair above your ear?

And now that his mind is functioning again (sort of), he can begin planning his next move. Because this can’t be a one time thing. He can’t go back after this experience. Move over black tar heroin, there’s a new high in town. And it’s called ‘being an immortal couple’s third’.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

A Syd x Carmy x Richie ficlet (from Richie's POV) Because I'm stuck at home with COVID and they're my latest OT3

Things are good. They're good again. Which is great, it's really nice, and it's more than a little scary. And well, sometimes ye olde feeling creeps up on Richard. That feeling that he's good for nothing and nobody.

Syd and Carmy flit through the bustling kitchen (corner, behind, behind, behind, behind), completing each other's sentences while speaking an entirely different language than the rest of them. They're probably in the middle of creating some mindblowing, next-level dish, another culinary love child to add to their evergrowing collection. The intense enthusiasm on their faces makes them look even younger than those fuckers already are, and Richard suddenly feels every year of his four and a half decades.

So yeah, maybe he's a little more cranky than usual when dealing with Fak's idiocy today. And maybe he slams the door just a little too hard on his way to his smoke break. And maybe he's a little too quiet that evening, when they're at Carmy's place together. (Who—out of the three of them—has the biggest bed and no cohabitants.)

He's on the couch next to a pile of faded denim, his eyes on the TV screen but his ears busy trying to pick up what they're talking about in the next room, their voices hushed and serious.

And then it hits him. This is probably it, this is Tiff all over again, this is-

"Hey Richie?!" Carmen's voice calls out from the bedroom.

"Yeah?!" he yells back, somehow managing to not sound like his world is crumbling around him.

"Come get dessert!"

It takes him a moment to recalibrate. Alright. Okay. Carmy wouldn't call a break-up 'dessert', he's not that mean. Syd might, if he really fucked things up between them, then yeah, she'd probably ask Marcus to bake a cake that says 'you're single again, you piece of shit' and serve it to him. But Carmy wouldn't stoop that low, and therefore he is freaking out about nothing so he's going to stop freaking out now. Things are good.

Things are good.

Things are really fucking good, because there's homemade chocolate sauce smeared on his lips, across his chest and currently being lapped out of his belly button, which kind of tickles but it's also en route to his dick so he's very excited about that.

Carmen pulls back from his now-clean belly button and reaches for the half-empty dessert bowl just as Sydney gives him another deep kiss that tastes like chocolate and something even sweeter. It's kind of overwhelming to be the center of their attention and adoration, being fussed over like plated food and devoured at the same time, and he finds it difficult to let them in—really let them in—even on a good day.

It doesn't help that they keep telling him nice shit, real sappy shit, except that it does help because it hurts but somehow it also makes him feel better about today. And then Carmy proceeds to give him a chocolately handjob that ends in a very messy blowie, all the while rubbing comforting circles on his inner thigh with his thumb, and Syd pinches his nipples just on the right side of too harsh and kisses him breathless until his toes curl and he replaces the taste of chocolate in Carmy's mouth with a flavor of his own.

After their shower (somehow Carmy ended up covered in almost as much sauce as him, the messy freak) they cuddle up in bed, placing him in the middle, and he tries to somewhat regain control of the situation, of all these feelings that they're making him feel, with their caring, with their seemingly endless understanding, and patience. And love.

"You guys are some real needy bastards, y'know that? Got absolutely no fucking chill. You're lucky I don't mind all that crap," he says, tearing up for the umpteenth time that night and grateful that nobody says a thing about it, they just hold him even tighter, until he can't tell where he ends and the others begin, and with that thought he drifts off to sleep.