filetofish | PSLS BECAUSE GAY

[Crow hears the shuffling and turns around nust in time to see Rean start clawing himself. He drops the piece of wood in his hands, immediately dashing back over to grab Rean's arms.]

Oh for Aidios' sake! Stop it!

[You've already got one hand wrapped up don't make him do more!]

Get it out get it out get it out getitout

[He's frantically still trying to claw himself, struggling, just desperately out of his mind.]

Knock it off!

[God! Fine! Hes rolling Rean back up in the blanket. Hopefully that'll hold him long enough for Crow to get something to tie him up with.]

[He's sobbing kind of incoherently but that's probably familiar enough.]

[Yeah. It kinda is. Crow's gonna go pull out some rope from. Idk. His rpg inventory. He's also geabbing the case of drugs and coming back to more neatly tie Rean up, hands behind his back, and jab him with a small dose.]

Hold still.

[He doesn't even have the coherence to really register what Crow is giving him, and he's just going to struggle against the ropes holding him for another five minutes before it starts to kick in and he goes... Still. Quietly panting.

At least the pain and hallucinations are subsiding but the pleasure is, uh... Actually... Different at a dose like this.

Anyway his skin is flushed but he's not in pain anymore so that's good. It's just the way he's panting is shifting from pained exertion to something a little more, well, suggestive of illicit sorts of pleasure.]

[Crow's ignoring that. He's just gotta be cool til the bandages are dry and he can stitch up Rean's finger and all that.]

Better?

Mm.

[He's not really catching his breath, but the way this is torture is at least... Not as terrifying? Not as inherently terrifying. There's a lot still bad about it.]

Crow...

[He is... Having a hard time thinking, of what to say. Or rather, his mind's a mess and he's losing his filter but he has enough coherence, shreds of it, to know that not having a filter is bad right now when he knows what he currently wants (has wanted for a long time, maybe).]

Don't leave.

[Even if he says weird stuff stay...]

I need you to stay.

I'm right here.

[He's not leaving unless he has to, for now. It wouldn't be wise to leave Rean on his own for very long.]

You're... You're here. That's true.

[At least in the same room. That's better.]

It's hot.

You're fine.

[That's clearly a side effect. He reaches out, though, to feel Rean's forehead.]

[He's warm, obviously, his skin hot. He makes a noise that is... part gasp but also with a breathiness that is frankly lewd, leaning into Crow's touch, eyelashes fluttering closed.]

...Right, well.

[That's obvious. What to do about it though...]

Guess I should take a note.

[Are you making awful jokes right now wow.]

Ha... Ha. Don't... Stop.

[Don't stop touching him, he's so starved for touch.]

I definitely oughta stop.

[He is in fact taking his hand back.]

You're not yourself right now.

Please...

[He inhales sharply. Trying to focus.]

This is... Me, too. Right now I still feel like me. My mind isn't that clouded. I know who you are and that I love you and that you're a huge jerk.

At least... At least touch me. Please. You don't have to do anything, I know I'm... disgusting I just... Need to feel... Like I'm not so awful I can't even be touched.

You're not disgusting.

[That's the most important thing, here. Crow really really thinks touching Rean when he's like this is a bad idea, though. And yet he can't stand the idea of Rean feeling so bad about himself because of something Crow did to him. So he's cautiously going to pet his hair.]

I promise you no one could ever think you're awful.

[He's pathetically grateful just for this much, leaning his head into it, wanting so much more, feeling a little dizzy with... Everything. He's not in good shape but at least it doesn't hurt much. Crow petting his hair is the best thing he's felt ever.]

...

[He wants to believe Crow because Crow's saying it, but it's hard to... Believe because he can't fathom it at all. That he isn't gross when he obviously is.]

Prove it.

[He expects a rejection or excuse.]

I'm not gettin' down and dirty with you while you're on drugs, Rean.

[But he'll keep petting him at least.]

It's got nothing to do with you being awful. I'm just trying to be nice here.

Sure.

[This just tired disbelief in his voice but he will take what he can get, turning his head so maybe the pets get his face some? He's so starved for touch. But he might be a little angry, even slightly uh, snappish? He can be pretty mean when he's in a bad mood okay, and even through the lust he can't help the bitterness of feeling like that's just an excuse not to touch him more, the sharp ache of knowing he's too gross to be desirable.]

Is that what you were doing all these weeks? Caring about my mental state?

I--

[Wow. That stings. He can't say he doesn't deserve it, but the guilt's twisting a knife in his gut. Crow would really like to retreat, but he knows that makes Rean upset, so he doesn't. He does look away, though, going terribly quiet.]

...I don't have an excuse. But I'm trying to make up for it now.

....

[He thunks his face against the mattress, turning his head, trying to keep from making little whimpering noises at the weird sensation of the drugs making everything so distinctly... pleasurable.]

Sorry. That wasn't called for.

[It was probably entirely called for, but being Rean he now just feels kind of guilty about snapping at Crow.]

It kinda was.

[He knows it's his fault. He deserves it.]

I know what I did.

I... I don't care, honestly. I'm mad, but not at you. I shouldn't be asking you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with... You've already had enough of that, right?

[He knows Crow didn't enjoy it. That blank mask of indifference was so painful, when he was coherent enough to notice it.]

Sorry. Sorry I'm really just... A mess right now.

I said to stop apologizing, didnt I?

[He hates it so much.]

I made the decision to go along with it. I don't want to hear you blame yourself for anything.

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