[Eichi's hands on him are so much, so treasured, taking his entire world and turning it inside out. He feels those fingers trail over cloth, and he wants them back on his skin so, so desperately that he practically whines. But what's the worth in that? Eichi can't read his mind.
He still can't imagine being Eichi's idol, his most valued thing, but... Like this, he can believe it. Only Eichi is allowed to profane him, to speak heresies with touch, to drag him down from the heavens he's been held to. To clip his soft, white wings. To catch him on the descent, only to lift him up. Maybe Eichi sees it as selfish, but Wataru sees it as inevitable, and he's eager to be claimed.
Eichi will be the first to touch him like this. To know his secrets, ripping him open and eating him alive. He'd gladly be devoured by this ravenous angel. The hesitation is torture.]
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He still can't imagine being Eichi's idol, his most valued thing, but... Like this, he can believe it. Only Eichi is allowed to profane him, to speak heresies with touch, to drag him down from the heavens he's been held to. To clip his soft, white wings. To catch him on the descent, only to lift him up. Maybe Eichi sees it as selfish, but Wataru sees it as inevitable, and he's eager to be claimed.
Eichi will be the first to touch him like this. To know his secrets, ripping him open and eating him alive. He'd gladly be devoured by this ravenous angel. The hesitation is torture.]
Please, Eichi... Touch me...?