[Preview] Chapter 3 : The Liturgy of a Corpse
"Look at how he remembers you," Kenjaku whispered against the glass, his gaze dropping to the wet mark, then back to Satoru's face. "The moment I stepped into this room, his pulse-points flared. The soul might be gone, Satoru, but the meat... the meat is still starving for you. Do you remember how he used to come apart under you ? The way he arched his back, completely unraveled by your touch ? Look at his throat now. It still reacts to the phantom memory of how you used to take him."
A sharp, violent shudder tore through Satoru's frame. The Infinity began to waver, its frequency turning into a jagged, fractured rhythm. It wasn't failing due to an attack, it was trembling because its master was losing his mind, his body instinctively wanting to lean into the illusion of that desperate, illicit heat.
"He died thinking of you, you know," Kenjaku cooed, his free hand now sliding lower, tracking the line of his own hip through the fabric, mimicking the frantic, possessive way Satoru used to grip him on the tatami mats. "And now, I get to taste those memories every time I swallow. I know exactly how he used to fall apart. How his thighs would lock around your waist when you fucked him too deep. How he'd choke out your name like a prayer while you ruined him..."
Status : Writing in progress... Coming soon to AO3 .✦ ݁˖
