[ Harry shifts, resting the remainder of his body along as much of John's as there is underneath him (which, in comparison, isn't much). He's slowing down, burning low as he languishes and listens and props his chin up on his hands. Hands that still wander across John's bare skin, tracing the old wounds with unnatural care. He makes a point not to concern himself with his own scars, he's been told they'll fade from reality, leave nothing but shitty memories - but others aren't so lucky. John will bear them all his life, however long that is.
Waxing poetic on scars now, jeeze. He ducks his head to tear his eyes from those scars, turning his face into the center of John's chest with a faint, incoherent murmur and a trail of messy kisses. An arm flails out towards the table, fingers hanging onto the edge with whatever energy is rapidly dissipating from him - warm, physical contact and the lullaby of bruises singing at his neck will do that to a guy. ]
Oh yeah, the mead. [ He can't reach the bottle, but he shifts against John and tries to. Upon shoving it further away than before, he gives up, and collapses slowly again. Blearily, he grunts: ] I was gonna' use you like a shotglass, give me a minute- [ and rubs his cheek against John's chest, nuzzling into him like he were a less-lumpy variation of the pillows in his own bed. Right before he heaves that deep breath in time with John's and fucking falls asleep on him. ]
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Date: 2012-11-05 04:01 am (UTC)Waxing poetic on scars now, jeeze. He ducks his head to tear his eyes from those scars, turning his face into the center of John's chest with a faint, incoherent murmur and a trail of messy kisses. An arm flails out towards the table, fingers hanging onto the edge with whatever energy is rapidly dissipating from him - warm, physical contact and the lullaby of bruises singing at his neck will do that to a guy. ]
Oh yeah, the mead. [ He can't reach the bottle, but he shifts against John and tries to. Upon shoving it further away than before, he gives up, and collapses slowly again. Blearily, he grunts: ] I was gonna' use you like a shotglass, give me a minute- [ and rubs his cheek against John's chest, nuzzling into him like he were a less-lumpy variation of the pillows in his own bed. Right before he heaves that deep breath in time with John's and fucking falls asleep on him. ]