Snake Eyes (vitri dmmd)(boyxboy)

Vicious Cycles

It's been thrown around that someone in Virus's situation is supposed to feel a sense of awkwardness and shame, often referred to as 'The Morning After'. Instead, he contemplates the apparent normativity of this emotion in majority of humans whilst also mulling over his morning routine. By this time ― 6:14 ― the hot steam of the shower would be scalding his body in ugly red blotches. Then a wide tooth comb would rake through his wet hair before more scalding took place in the form of hot air from a hairdryer. An hour of dedication on his appearance would take him until 7:00, when he would sort through files and then ready breakfast.

He's doing none of those things. Virus is glued to his bed-sheets stained with an odour far too musky to belong to him. It can't be categorised as a fragrance because that would suggest it's pleasant; and it can't be called a smell because that is too general a term. It's an odour with a thick lacing of something he can't quite describe besides 'Trip'. Salty and thickly laced with husky spice, it's a scent that Virus cringes at, yet buries his face deeper within.

He's repulsed by the thought and intrigued by the obscenity.

It's a scent that belongs to an animal in heat, meant to draw mates by pheromones and testosterone in maps to their den.

Virus sucks in another hopeless breath of that scent and sighs in defeat. He flops over as lifeless as a rag-doll and for the first time he can remember, he allows his heavy eyelids to fall. His stiff joints sink deep into those Trip-scented pillows and he thinks for a moment that if there were really a God, they would be kind enough to grant him eternal rest and he wouldn't have to face the demon that would be today.

Everyone must face their demons at some point ― he knows this well, yet he can't help wishing it wasn't true.

Racing across his vision is the flickering stills of the previous night. If his face heated and nausea took place of his hollow stomach, he would be less concerned. Yet as of now the tell-tale signs of disgust that comes with the thought of Trip are nowhere in his system. The only countable ones are frustration pressing his teeth into the delicate flesh lining the inside of his mouth and the cramps forming in his chest. Maybe this is shame, but then again his body isn't heated as per usual. He then discovers that he has nothing to compare embarrassment to other than experiences not of his own. He's sure Trip would have the same problem identifying symptoms of emotions and what they're supposed to mean. If he didn't know Virus as well as he did he'd probably come to him with questions like every other subject he ponders about.

When he finds the strength to drag his uncooperative body to the shower, he starts his routine half an hour later than the set time. Better late than never he supposes. Water pelts down on him and he becomes more and more frantic when the ghostly slime of disgust coating his body refuses to be budged by the lathering of fragranced soap. It's a blanket of Trip's scent, heat, spit, sweat and cum... and it's all stuck to Virus. It's dripping in every crevice and pore of his body. Trip's taste lingers on his tongue, in his throat, inside his body.

He rubs desperately at his skin, cutting the cold off completely and cooking himself in a stream of liquid fire. His skin blotches red from the heat and stripes from his scrubbing. Marks of possession appear on his skin: bruises on his thighs of fingerprints, his collarbone shredded by canines, bleeding vivid colours under a thin layer of skin. It all spells out 'Trip'. He feels less and less like a person and more of a possession.

The shower positively scalds him to pieces. Steam thickens until he's drowning in viscous fog, until there's so little oxygen left in the air that he can no longer feel the fire scorching his feet, and then hands, and then his legs buckle beneath him as a crash dully sounds. The mist on the ground is even thicker and denser and he's gulping for life as the burning rain sticks into him like needles.