His back arches off the dust.
This fog is frenetic, energy jumping and events repeating and shifting. He's never been the creative type but he thinks that this is what it's like to write, spinning a story from actions cycling until it reaches perfection.
Maxie's claws pin his hands to the ground.
This could be many things, he knows. This could be irony, a sweet memory repeated, or it could be something new, feverish and delusional. It's not the worst case scenario, because he's been at that apex of helplessness and this isn't like that.
Maxie grunts, the hooks along his tail catching on the tatters of his flukes.
This is like a memory spun in reverse. It's like hungry youth, the hormones of a mated pair, but the positions don't match. Maxie's on top, but he's digging in rather than accepting.
Fluids gush, and his body cycles in on the strange form piecing it.
His head tilts back as Maxie bites his neck, a moan bouncing off the fog. Arms are released, snapping to wrap, and his thrashing tail wraps close around Maxie's as a deep thrust darkens his vision.
"Mine," comes the hiss in his ear, the possessive tone making him dizzy. "Take what you deserve, accept it and know that this is what you've always wanted."
Heat floods his insides, his body curving to accept. It's different than what being creampied before felt like, deeper and heavier, settling like a weight in his abdomen. Felt like he ate a sun.
Maxie's sharp smile burns like a star, claws dragging across his shuttering fins in the endless search for a response.
And he responds. Oh, he responds.
