downrightfierce | 008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

and i cannot get you out

Prompto was pretty sure he was an idiot. No… not pretty sure. He knew he was an idiot.

And really… Cid and his never ending taunts to the marks on his neck were not helping. Nor was the fact he fucking hurt. He felt a little bit like he'd gotten hit by a truck. Or, more accurately, that he'd almost died, had his side torn to shreds and then decided to have some of the most intense sex of his life. Yeah… he was definitely feeling it.

But as much as a mess as his body was, it had nothing on his state of mind.

Because he had had some of the most intense sex of his life with Gladio, proceeded to spend the night with him cuddling, and then the morning he'd tried to fucking high five the other man, thanked him for the sex with a thumbs up and tripped over his own damn two feet as he tried to hightail it out of the caravan. Not exactly his smoothest moment.

“You. Are. Such. An. Idiot.” He mumbled and let his head fall onto the workbench. Gave it a few more hits with his forehead for good measure and realized he'd forgotten all about Cid for half a minute, at least until the older man started to laugh.

“Well I ain't gonna argue you on that one, kid, but you think you can keep the dramatics to a minimum here… we got work to do,” Cid said and pointed the end of a screwdriver at the pile of weapons on the end of the bench.

Prompto lifted his head. Sighed. Straightened up and grabbed the gun next to him. If nothing else it could maybe distract him from his own idiocy for a while. Distract him from that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had completely fucked everything up with his inability to be normal that morning. Distract him from how he could still feel Gladio's hands all over him, how the marks on his body still felt the ghost of lips, how he could still feel Gladio in him every time he moved.

Distract him from how he wanted more.

And it worked. For a while. He got lost in the work with Cid, found his mind clearing as he focused on the repairs and modifications, felt better as he took something broken and made it better. Worked at least until his phone buzzed against the bench where he had plugged it in to charge. He glanced up from his work and seeing that it was a text from Cindy he put his tool down and grabbed the phone.

Hey, Heartbreaker… looks like tall, dark, and handsome is getting ready to take off… thought you might like to know

The panic was almost immediate. Gladio was… leaving!?!? And that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened to overt take him, felt massive all the sudden as his throat went dry and he could barely swallow against the hard lump caught in the back of it. His hands started to shake… and he knew from experience that this could quickly go into a full out panic attack if he didn't nip it in the bud.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe…

Five things to see; gun, screwdriver, phone, hammer, Cid. His eyes darted to each in kind. Four things he could touch; metal, workbench, denim, his own arm. And so his hand moved from gun to table top to his knee to arm. Three things to smell; gunpowder, the terribly fruity shampoo he'd borrowed from Cindy when he'd gotten back to the garage, the smoke from Cid’s pipe on the table. Two things he could hear; Cid drumming his fingers on the workbench… the blood as it rushed in his own ears and one thing he could taste was the bile that threatened in the back of his throat.

Fuck.

Prompto scrambled off the stool and ignoring Cid’s concerned voice behind him he bolted from the back room and to where he knew Gladio had parked his bike. He stopped a few feet short and now there had no idea what to even say.

“You're leaving?” he asked after a moment. His voice thin and tight.

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It’s almost immediate, the way his body sagged into the touch as soon as it came. Relief flooded through him at the feel of it, that large hand around his back, the other against his head. And Gladio wouldn’t be far from the mark with his thoughts. Prompto was lost, more than he’d ever felt before in his life, more than he had ever imagined he could feel.

And Gladio? Well, Gladio was the first solid thing he’d found to hang onto in a long while. There was a voice - tiny and guilt ridden, swirled in the back of his mind where he kept all the bad thoughts, the ones that kept him up at night, the ones that made him doubt everything - and that voice, soft and easy to ignore in that moment, wondered if this was right. Was it right to take the comfort that Gladio offered up, to press himself against the other’s chest and take what he could of that immense strength when his heart belonged so fully to someone else. Was his own desperation to not feel so damn alone anymore clouding his judgement of the situation.

Gladio held him like he was something… something more. Touch gentle and tender, those arms around him the night before like it was more than just the sex that had transpired before it. Those arms around him now like he was… like he was worth a damn. Worth more than just Noct’s tag along friend on some road trip. Was this just Gladio trying to do right by Noct, take care of his friend while he was gone. Some sense of duty… pity really in the end. Or did Gladio actually care. A thought that felt ridiculous but somehow not at the same time.

Did this matter to Gladio in a way that Prompto couldn’t return.

A thought that if he stopped to think about would flood him with guilt. So he didn’t think about it Just pressed himself in closer to the man willing to let him. Let the fingers that rubbed against his scalp soothe away the last of the lingering panic, let the words spread a warmth through him and not linger on the why of it all.

“Okay…” he replied, the word muffled a little with his head tucked against Gladio’s chest. He lingered there for another moment, breathed in the scent of leather and something indefinable outside of Gladio. But then he pulled back a little and gave a joking punch to Gladio's arm. “I'm pissed at you by the way,” though his tone and the grin on his face proved him to be anything but. “Do you know how many shitty comments I've gotten from Cid from the giant ass hickey you left on me?” said with a laugh.

Gladio would have, if he knew, told Prompto it was okay. He didn't mind being used. Really, he and Ignis had discussed more than once if Prompto and Noct were actually in some kind of a relationship or not. It had started out as a rather nasty argument between them because on one hand, Noctis was supposed to be getting married to Lady Lunafreya, but... it was Noct, who needed to have real love, some kind of real life. Let him love Prompto, even if it was going to hurt them both. Ignis had dryly commented that he had never found any... physical evidence that a relationship was occurring, certain that between their two younger charges one of them would be unable to hide it from him, but Gladio had only shrugged and pointed out that if they were really that determined to hide a relationship, they would. Besides, not every relationship was physical.

If they were using each other, in their own ways, was it really so bad?

Prompto had long since become something more than just Noct's tag along friend and Gladio would have given him a piece of his mind if he knew. Prompto had become a friend to all of them, a brother, something so much more than they had a word to explain. There were only three people still on this plane who understood what they had gone through. How could he not be something more? ...True, his actions after Noct had been taken from them... probably hadn't helped any. How he had run in the face of his anger and shame.

BVut the laugh, the punch to his arm, loosened the air and he could give a small smirk back. "Old man's just jealous he can't get it up anymore; just ignore him." He brought his hand up just enough to be able to ruffle the chocobo-butt hair. "Just tell him that. He'll stop." And probably throw something, but he couldn't even imagine those kinds of words leaving Prompto's mouth.

He ducked a little out of the ruffle, an offended expression on his face that was really only about half serious. But really, come on, Gladio, it took a lot of effort to keep the chocobo butt, have some respect. Especially with hair supplies becoming harder and harder to come by.

Prompto blushed a little at the notion, chuckled and shook his head. “Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah, no, I’m not telling him that.” A pause as he raised his brows. “You’re more than welcome to though, big guy,” which was kind of an entertaining notion really. Although probably best not to do it in the shop - while Cid had trouble with the finer movements needed to do the repairs and modifications he once did Prompto had no doubt he would still be capable of using the weapons in there.

"You really think I wouldn't?" Gladio wasn't afraid of Cid, even if the man was a legend. Look, they'd gone through hell and back; there wasn't much he was honestly afraid of any more and anything he was... well, it was a hell of a lot worse than being threatened by an old man with a weapon.

He squeezed Prompto's shoulder firmly before doing something that he didn't really think about, bending down and brushing his lips to the other's forehead. It actually wasn't until he turned around and was pulling his pack off his bike that he realized what he did, hands hesitating in their work for a few seconds, staring at nothing, before he mentally whispered a curse.

Just, don't even bring it up, Prompto.

He couldn’t even if he wanted to because anything he might have said to the earlier comment or anything, just kind of… died on his lips as he felt Gladio’s brush against his forehead. And he just kind of stared at Gladio’s back, half convinced the kiss hadn’t even happened and he was just imaging things. But still, he could feel the ghost of lips on his skin, could feel something akin to a warmth buried in his chest, and he rubbed at the top of his nose as he shifted his weight and watched Gladio’s back.

“Uh -” no, he’s not going to bring it up, don’t worry, Gladio. Just give him half a second to recover. “I know you would… and I’d be there to take pics because I somehow imagine that would be one priceless expression on the old man’s face if you did,” a bit of a chuckle though it’s a bit shaky.

It’s the first time he’d mentioned taking a picture of anything since - well, since Noct. Which was about the last time he actually ever had too, aside from one seflie Cindy had insisted on when he’d first showed up in Hammerhead. But once she’d seen the way he couldn’t even fake the face for it in the final result she’d never requested again.

"You know, you're not helping if you're trying to make sure I don't do it," Gladio pointed out, hoisting up his pack to his shoulder as if he hadn't done what he'd done seconds before. He brought up his chin, studying Prompto's face, but whatever confusion or surprise that might have been there from his act was already gone. So instead, he gave a little gesture with his elbow out towards the buildings.

"Where have you been staying in all this? In that caravan?" Though he sounded kind of doubtful, as he hadn't seen any real signs of someone living there in the long term. It had been so long since he'd had a place, even something simple, that the idea felt foreign. It also brought up memories of a place that lied, as far as he knew, in ruins back in Insomnia. The library gone to ruins, the very full room of training gear and weaponry covered in dust, the little things left behind he hadn't thought about because he'd be back in just a month or so, why worry?

He tried not to think of anything from home too often, not when that rabbit hole went to so deep.

Like Gladio, Prompto tried not to think too much about Insomnia. Anything he had needed - Noct and a memory card - he had taken with him. There wasn’t much he’d left behind. But the feeling of the place was something to miss. The ease of life there that he had more than taken for granted. He missed the stupid things. Bubble tea, the arcade, that space between the buildings in his apartment complex where the evening sun sunk down and casted reflected light across the walkway. Unlike the others he didn’t really have anyone to miss or grieve. A text message to the people he’d called parents but who never really were in the days after the fall that had gone unanswered and that was that.

“Naw, I’ve got a room behind the garage,” he answered and started them in that direction.

And he missed space. Which was weird since Insomnia was crowded and all buildings going high and stacked close together. But his apartment had been his and had a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom all of his own. He opened the door to a room, attached to the main garage building but at least a little private. And it definitely looked like what it was, a work and storage room that had been turned into a living space by necessity. Shelves lined the walls with various items and supplies, a long work bench against the back that had a few ongoing projects of Prompto’s along with binders stacked up high: labels in his writing indicating they were records of different kinds of supplies. A queen mattress (shamelessly stolen from a motel in one of the outposts gone under) had been placed on the floor, and a few duffle bags that were the extent of Prompto’s personal belongings next to it.

“Home sweet home?” he half said, half asked with a little laugh and a shrug. He moved to lean back against the work bench and suddenly realized that this kind of looked like he was indicating Gladio should stay here. Which - he wasn’t entirely opposed to he found, but also felt like maybe that wasn’t what Gladio wanted and really things were easier before they had slept together. “I - uh -” a rub of his hand against the back of his neck. “I could probably find you a room somewhere else too, or some of the hunters crash in the back of Takka’s…” the sort of unspoken if you wanted lingered after his words. "Or here works," a shrug. He was terrible at this.

There was so much that Gladio missed, and so much that he did everything in his power not to linger on. This was a man who had not grieved for what he had lost, not yet, not when their mission was still on going and he had so much that still needed to be done. He was well aware that when it finally all broke, it would shatter like a dropped plate and his ability to pick up the pieces and glue them back together would be as destroyed as the rest of him. So, instead, he followed his father's advice - keep those emotions behind him, beneath him, until the mission was over, and only then allow yourself to experience them.

That sort of mentality was never meant for a mission that went this many years, but for a man who lived for another, who breathed his duty and put it above all else, it was the only thing he had left to cling to when failure otherwise loomed.

He looked around the room slowly, realizing it was something so much more permanent than anything he had known in years, and felt a mix of sad amusement over it. It worked, really. That was all that was needed, and for someone like Gladio who didn't stay in any one place for long, it seemed like a damn good place for now. The mattress looked like an unexpected luxury.

"You inviting me to stay, Prom?" The sideways glance look in the blond carefully, trying to read his body language. Awkward, unsure as he had always been. Yet... why was Prompto offering? Was it all because of last night, or because he thought Gladio would just up and leave? The memory of Prompto's face tucked into his chest lingered at the back of his eyes, as did the feelings it cropped up just beyond the forehead pressed to his jacket.

Was he? He honestly didn’t know. Maybe. The trouble was Prompto had never been that good at figuring out what he wanted. Hadn’t been since the day Luna’s letter had found him and he’d started to revolve his entire life around Noctis. But he knew there was a tightness that clenched at his chest at the idea of Gladio not being there. Even if he couldn’t pinpoint why it mattered so much.

He pushed himself off the bench and moved closer. A shrug of shoulders as he looked up at Gladio. “I guess? Maybe?” Fuck why was he so bad at this.

Prompto paused for a moment and then fell back into something he was at least slightly less bad at. Stepped a foot between Gladio’s, hands sliding behind his hips as he leaned up to drag his mouth across Gladio’s neck. “I mean, if you wanted…” effectively giving up having to make the decision himself.

Hello there. Seemed to Gladio like Prompto had made the decision himself. A part of him wanted to mutter that Prompto didn't need to sweeten the pot or anything, but well, fuck. Maybe they both needed the physicality of it. So instead he only gave a quiet huff of a laugh, bringing a hand up to the back of Prompto's head and sliding his fingers through the softness of his hair. "Sure. Means you'll have to keep sharing the bed, though." Spoken like it would be a problem, but well aware it wouldn't be for either of them. It had been easier to fall asleep with Prompto on his chest than it had been for years of sleeping alone.

"Tell you what. Show me somewhere I can get a shower around here, and I'll give you a massage to try and help out with some of that limp." Smirk. He knew damn well he was being a bit of an asshole and it was a flex of his ego but at the same time, it was a stroke across the tentative re-connection they had made together through a single mutual need.

He laughed at the comment because really… it was so Gladio and it actually felt kind of nice. Normal somehow. Even if none of this was. There was even a blush, high across his cheeks at having been called out over his probably fairly noticeable gait that day. “Ass…” he murmured against Gladio's skin, though his tone was far from biting.

He pulled back, slipped hands into his pockets and looked up at Gladio with a smile. “But I'd never say no to a massage,” he added. Who would really.

Prompto opened the door to his room and nodded to the stairs down the hall. “First door on the left,” he instructed Gladio. Anyone who would use that particular washroom was already milling about in other places for the day so Gladio shouldn't run into anyone. “Should be towels and everything up there.”

"Yeah, already got yours." Complete with a squeeze. No, not a damn bit of this was normal, not even before Noct had been taken from them, but... hell. If none of it was normal, then that was the new normal and Gladio was just going to go with it. What else could he do? He'd been doing it for so many years now, the constant changing and yet the horrible constant of the darkness, of his anger and hurt.

He snagged his pack and opened it, after Prompto showed him the way, and grabbed something out of it - a flash of what might have been soap, and of all things, a straight razor. "Shit, a clean towel? Must be my lucky day."

But he only got a few steps towards the door before, without even looking back, he offered, "hey, Prom. ...Just how big is that shower, anyway?"

Somehow Gladio with a straight razor seemed fitting. Conjured up all kinds of images of rugged manliness that more than suited Gladio. It was kind of hot really.

He smirked a little at the invitation wrapped up in the question. “Big enough,” he answered, his tone a bit amused. “Why, you looking for some company there, big guy?” but the question was rhetorical at best as Prompto had already moved to follow Gladio.

Straight razor was a hell of a lot easier to keep than any kind of electric or disposable one in this hellhole of a land anymore, and besides he could not only keep it sharp, clean, and oiled better... it could be a weapon, if he needed. It'd happened once. Some hunters had no morals left in them.

"Might be. Depends on if that company can wash my back for me or not." Gladio laughed as he led the way, and the moment Prompto was also inside the bathroom and the door was shut, he turned, captured the other's chin in a hand, then his lips in a kiss. Briefly, but firm, before Gladio smirked.

That was all before he started to test out the water, seeing if he was lucky enough to get a hot shower for the first time in a damn long time.

He grinned a bit cheekily at the words as he followed Gladio. “I might be willing to wash more than that,” brows raised with a smirk of his own before Gladio captured his mouth in that kiss. There was the smallest little whimper as Gladio pulled away, hating the loss of contact.

He leaned over Gladio and adjusted the tap to the magic spot that would keep the water running hot. “It's kind of finicky,” he explained, “I got the hot water tanks to run off the generator but it only seems to like that specific spot.” A shrug as he finished.

Prompto tugged his shirt off and let it fall to the ground. His expression faltered for a moment as fingers ran over the fresh scars on his side. The vivid reminder that it had been damn close. Too close.

Gladio looked back and there were words on his lips to comment that Prompto was looking good - and honestly he had filled out that scrawny body really well - when he saw that expression change. Shit. He shifted to reach over, grasping Prompto's wrist and brought up the fingers that had touched the scars, touching his lips to them before his hand covered the scars himself. "You're still here." Very quiet yet firm, looking Prompto in the eyes if he could meet them. Too close, but Prompto was alive.

He nudged Prompto towards the water, thinking that he could get the other's mind off the near-death experience. Who didn't like a bit of fun up against a shower wall?

Prompto's breath caught in his throat as he felt Gladio's lips against his fingers, his eyes locked on Gladio's face. And it wasn't as though he was touched starved that the move should hit him the way it did. No, Prompto had been dulling his pain in casual sex often enough to keep that particular one from piling onto his already vast mountain of issues. But maybe it was something else he thought in that moment. Affection starved. And he realized that Gladio was the first person since Noct that he'd slept with who looked at him like he was worth a damn. Worth more than just a way of getting off quick.

His mouth felt dry, blood running hot and cold all at once as warmth and panic raged to see who would emerge victorious. Scared at the idea of wanting this and scared at the prospect of walking away from it.

So he shucked off his pants and shoes and slipped into the shower. Waited till Gladio was undressed and wrapped an arm around his arm to pull him in. Prompto traced a line up black ink as he looked up at Gladio from under wet strands of hair before he leaned forward and dragged his mouth over a pec. “It is seriously unfair how hot you are,” he said, lightness returning to his tone at the words before his lips latched around one of Gladio's nipples.

The change in Prompto's breath didn't go unnoticed, and it settled like a warmth in Gladio's chest that he wanted to feel more of. It was so much softer than he usually was, so much softer than the sounds he brought out of other people when they had sex. Fucked. It was, usually, a release for all involved and that was that. Here he was, though. They had done nothing less than found that relief in each other last night but... it held something more. It still did. It was why he was still here, the image of Prompto pressed up against his jacket, clinging to him.

The feeling of being wanted by someone in a way that wasn't just sex.

Gladio took in the sight of Prompto as he finished undressing, then took his time peeling off his own layers before joining him. It was a surprise how demanding Prompto turned back he let him do it, bringing up a big hand to slide into blond strands and pull them back from those eyes before giving a laugh. A laugh that turned into a groan as that sight, shit. He let his hand move back around to cup Prompto's skull, licking his lips as water ran over them. "Funny, I'd say the same about you."

Prompto had filled himself out, had the look of a fighter, more certain about himself. Those damn eyes... still just like he could remember, too blue and bright even with the darkness in and out.

There's a huff of a noise at Gladio's words. A little bout of protest because no, he wasn't. At least in his own mind. The reflection that stared back at him never one he liked that much. Too pale, too many damn freckles (even still in the never ending blackness), too awkward looking. No way in hell he'd ever be on the same playing field as Gladio.

But it somehow didn't matter right then as Gladio looked down at him, as he groaned under his touch. And Prompto let his gaze fall as he sunk to his knees. His mouth dragged over the crease where hip meet thigh, one his hands ran back to grip around Gladio's ass and the other trailed lightly over the length of his cock as he let his eyes dart back up.

Yeah, there had been a time when he was most of those things. Now most of the people in the world were pale except those that had a naturally darker skin tone and Gladio, as he looked at Prompto, found he liked the look of the dark sprinkle of freckles against white skin. Like the universe in reverse, stars against the sky. He looked thin, they all did from hunger to one degree or another, but less awkward looking. Much less.

Almost no one was on the level of Gladio's body, but most people definitely weren't built like the Amicitia were.

Fuck. The thought slid through Gladio's mind as he stared down at Prompto on his knees, his lips parting at the sight of it which was way, way better than he might have ever imagined. It was easy to bring his hands into Prompto's flattened hair, thumbs rubbing up behind his ears. "...shit, do you have any idea how good you look on your knees?" he said quietly over the spray of water that took away blood and sweat and semen and dirt all tried into their skin. "Think you can take me?" The corner of his lips lifted, challenging.

He moaned a little against Gladio's skin at the touch behind his ears, a spot that had always been particularly sensitive. And as he glanced up it was almost overwhelming - in a good way he realized - how there was nothing but Gladio. Prompto had always known Gladio was big - tall and built - but on his knees like this it was so much more. His whole field of vision nothing but bronze skin and muscle. And it helped, focused him down to nothing but what was happening right then. Blocked out the world, blocked out the tangents in his own mind in a way no one else had ever really been able to do.

There's a determined glint in his eyes at the challenge laid down. And while he's sure that maybe the answer is no, or at least no to some degree, he sure as fuck was going to try. His tongue followed the line his thumb had just made, lapped at the tip of Gladio's cock and then he opened his mouth. The water that spilled between them helped as Prompto slid his mouth over Gladio's length, lips stretched wide around Gladio's girth. He took Gladio as far as he could on that first foray, then hollowed his cheeks and sucked as he pulled back before he repeated the motion.

That sensitive spot was very much tucked away for future reference with the plan of finding more. Prompto was proving himself to be very responsive to touch, and it encouraged Gladio to keep up those little motions - stroking his fingers along the other's scalp, down to the sprays of freckles across his cheeks, neck, shoulders. There was no way to miss the change in Prompto when the challenge hung between them, specially when Gladio's thumb ran under the other's chin briefly so he could look down into those vivid eyes.

Pretty much the answer to that question had been 'no' no matter who it was asked to when it came to him, but it often spurred on a certain vigor in some people that could definitely be fun... just like now. There was something downright surreal about watching Prompto as he used that tongue like he knew what he was doing, then even more with that mouth of his. "Fuck," Gladio groaned quietly, tongue flicking out and licking across. "Knew that mouth was good for something. Been holding back on me." His thumbs caressed behind Prompto's ears like a reward.

He moaned against Gladio's cock in his mouth, both at the words and at the touch. And really, maybe he should be worried about how very rapidly he was getting hooked on Gladio hitting that praise kink he hadn't even realized he had to this degree - but he really didn't give a fuck right then. He just wanted more. Knew it caused his own cock to twitch between his legs, knew it sent shivers down his spine and made everything okay, if only for the moment.

Prompto's head bobbed forward as he took more of Gladio into his mouth, fingers wrapped around what he couldn't get in his mouth. His tongue lapped at the underside as he bobbed back and forth, cheeks hollowed and damn if his jaw wasn't already starting to ache but it was perfect still. His eyes flickered up and he watched Gladio as he worked him.

Tears pinpricked in the corner as he pushed himself further, felt the tip of Gladio's cock down his throat and he worked against actually choking. Prompto pulled off for a moment, his hand still around Gladio's cock though with a few thrusts as he coughed a few times, head turned to the side. A mumbled shit under his breath before he wrapped his lips around Gladio again and started once more.

Gladio didn't look away as Prompto took him, pupils wide and making his eyes that much darker in his arousal. It was impossible to miss the way Prompto's throat flexed around him, something not unfamiliar from the past, but feeling Prompto doing it of all people felt wrong, yet at the same that wrongness somehow made it... more.

He groaned low and when Prompto pulled back, he took the chance to still his head and give a few shallow thrusts, testing the waters. "Fuck, that's good, babe." The words just came out of his mouth without much thought behind them other than the truth of them. His hand shifted and his thumb stroked over Prompto's throat. "Willing to choke yourself for me? Mm. Curious to see just how far you'll make it down here." His thumb slid down the length of it.

He whimpered at the words, the idea of Gladio's dick so far down his throat he couldn't even breathe. A thought that should - had in the past - fill him with panic. To be that much at someone else's mercy, to be that far under someone else's control. Except it's Gladio and he trusts him. Implicitly. Completely. And so no, there's no flash of panic, there's no pulling away. There's just that whimper and a slight nod of his head before Prompto opened his mouth up more, inviting Gladio to find out just how far he could make it.

One of Prompto's hands moves to Gladio's thigh, fingers curled into the skin there for balance. His eyes still upward toward Gladio, even as his other hand moved to wrap his fingers around his own cock.

And he doesn't answer because he knows the answer is written all over his face. Please - do it - fuck my throat raw until I can't even breathe, can't even think, can't even see straight and until there's nothing but you.

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