Maybe it's Neil's voice that does it. Maybe it's just things coming to a head. But what he abruptly notices more than anything is the weight of the tags around his neck, cool metal against his chest, and the name he knows is on them, like he's marked as belonging to him.
And just like that... he can't. His body wants it, God, does it ever, every cell aching for more, but the rest of him... No. For the first time in his whole fucked up life, the answer is a clear, unequivocal no.
Jesus Christ.
"Neil," he gasps, and he's trying to push him away while still holding onto him, as gentle as he can be with how strongly he feels it. "I can't... stop, I can't."
no subject
And just like that... he can't. His body wants it, God, does it ever, every cell aching for more, but the rest of him... No. For the first time in his whole fucked up life, the answer is a clear, unequivocal no.
Jesus Christ.
"Neil," he gasps, and he's trying to push him away while still holding onto him, as gentle as he can be with how strongly he feels it. "I can't... stop, I can't."