[ He isn't shaking anymore, Ephemera realizes vaguely. Earlier, he was watching and sharp in the worst possible way. On the very edge of losing himself to that ugly, coiled madness that still catches him sometimes - that rage that's not nearly strong enough to swallow the grief. He doesn't like feeling out of control, like he's going to whip around and kill someone just for moving into proximity or scream for the sake of the noise. To break the surface tension.
It's insane that Felix, of all goddamn people, is the thing that feels closest to steady right now.
Ephemera's grip stays steady on the blade. He knows how to handle a weapon, at least. And there was a time he knew how to handle another person, really kiss them until they both went breathless. Part of him still remembers. Felix kisses him, kisses him back, and Ephemera presses into him and lets it happen. Gives it back just the same, one hand still braced against the wall and the other on the blade. Holding steady, despite everything. Felix is smaller, faster, but he doesn't move to dodge away, to lose Ephemera in the dark.
This is happening.
Fuck.
Someone touches him again. Runs their fingers across his shoulders, long nails catching against a scar.
And then, just like that, it shifts. Not much. But enough that Ephemera pulls the knife away from Felix's neck and prepares to shift his grip again. If people keep touching him -
Breathe.
He exhales with a hiss and grinds their foreheads together. Grinds against Felix. He's hard. That's happening, too. Good and bad, pleasure and wrenching tension. The taste of blood in his mouth. ]
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It's insane that Felix, of all goddamn people, is the thing that feels closest to steady right now.
Ephemera's grip stays steady on the blade. He knows how to handle a weapon, at least. And there was a time he knew how to handle another person, really kiss them until they both went breathless. Part of him still remembers. Felix kisses him, kisses him back, and Ephemera presses into him and lets it happen. Gives it back just the same, one hand still braced against the wall and the other on the blade. Holding steady, despite everything. Felix is smaller, faster, but he doesn't move to dodge away, to lose Ephemera in the dark.
This is happening.
Fuck.
Someone touches him again. Runs their fingers across his shoulders, long nails catching against a scar.
And then, just like that, it shifts. Not much. But enough that Ephemera pulls the knife away from Felix's neck and prepares to shift his grip again. If people keep touching him -
Breathe.
He exhales with a hiss and grinds their foreheads together. Grinds against Felix. He's hard. That's happening, too. Good and bad, pleasure and wrenching tension. The taste of blood in his mouth. ]
Felix -
[ Goddamn it all. ]
Just take the goddamn knife.