[ So much for like. But he does like Mello. He'd simply like him even better if he didn't take what didn't belong to him. He knows what it means to survive on scraps and little else, but it's not a past that defines them, or at least he's reluctant to admit it has for himself. Live like a dog for long enough and you become one. A street rat rummaging for scraps just to survive, a kicked, beaten animal with nothing left to lose, until the day everything changed.
Setsuna watches the knife drop, is pleased, and immediately lets go in return. But he's staring at Mello, now boring into him with inhuman eyes, thin pins for pupils, and a perfect return to his neutral expression from earlier save for the blood dripping down his lips. ]
I'm disgusting.
[ A curiously sudden statement to make, and though his gaze is intimidating, insistent, his words are softer, less barbed than that alien insult, almost like an apology for it. He makes no effort to wipe the blood away but he will lean forward, face-to-face and nose-to-nose with Mello again, and this time, he's as blunt as blunt can be, crystal clear in his intentions. ]
I want you. Lie back.
[ He's pushing, prodding insistently before Mello can even answer, because he wants he wants he wants, trying to guide him into place and spread his legs and fuck if he cares anymore, that snap of rage had sapped any reason or remaining self-restraint he had. ]
no subject
Setsuna watches the knife drop, is pleased, and immediately lets go in return. But he's staring at Mello, now boring into him with inhuman eyes, thin pins for pupils, and a perfect return to his neutral expression from earlier save for the blood dripping down his lips. ]
I'm disgusting.
[ A curiously sudden statement to make, and though his gaze is intimidating, insistent, his words are softer, less barbed than that alien insult, almost like an apology for it. He makes no effort to wipe the blood away but he will lean forward, face-to-face and nose-to-nose with Mello again, and this time, he's as blunt as blunt can be, crystal clear in his intentions. ]
I want you. Lie back.
[ He's pushing, prodding insistently before Mello can even answer, because he wants he wants he wants, trying to guide him into place and spread his legs and fuck if he cares anymore, that snap of rage had sapped any reason or remaining self-restraint he had. ]
Let me touch you.
[ And solely because he's desperate: ]
Please.