[ There's a soft smile on Jericho's lips, and he looks down almost bashfully, or maybe like there's some inside joke in his head that only he's privy to. ] You think so? You must've only heard the good stuff about me. [ Are there any good rumors about him? His reputation as a dealer is probably his least tarnished. He's easy to approach and even easier to buy from -- there aren't any shady meeting places unless his customers just want to be shady because they think they're in a drug movie and not a completely enclosed college campus that barely reflects the real world. This is probably the easiest his life has ever been, and he's suddenly not sure why he he's on the verge of throwing it all away.
He already knows he's going to say yes. Larus is nice so far, and he's sexy, and he doesn't seem high maintenance at all, so maybe Jericho can actually keep up with this. Maybe he'll be the one that doesn't mind so much if he does fall behind a little. ] Well, I was really hoping to elope tonight with someone destined to be rich so I'd never have to work again, but I guess dating would work, too. [ Then he's climbing out of his swing and moving to Larus', grabbing hold of the chains to stop the rocking motion, and he slowly leans down, letting Larus tilt his head upwards to meet his mouth, and he's kissing him. It's nice, this moment under the night sky with the warm air against his skin. He hasn't puked tonight -- nothing bad has happened at all, and he doesn't take that for granted. Larus smells good, too, like maybe he uses fabric softener on his clothes or invests in some kind of cologne that makes people want to kiss him. ]
[ He doesn't know what to expect, and Larus thinks that's probably part of the charm. There would be room to debate it later, letting his eyes fall closed as he listens to Jericho speak, and he's aware just how different tonight could have gone if he'd decided to skip the party or if he'd never ran into Jericho outside, just how exceptionally boring it might have been without the added bonus of all this. And he's not really anticipating the kiss when it comes either, eyes blinking open to watch him as he gets closer. Closer, and Larus pushes forward just an inch so their mouths slide together, lips immediately parting to take advantage of their position. It's slow, soft, and he can taste the lingering flavor of vanilla on Jericho's tongue, the distant hint of pot and alcohol mixing with it. He doesn't know if it would ever be a good thing to want to kiss, but he certainly doesn't mind it now, hand sliding up the chain to curl over Jericho's as if thinking to keep him there. There's a gentle nip at his bottom lip, licking at the exact same spot to ease the pressure of his teeth into flesh. ]
I haven't heard that much about you. [ Aside from a few rumors that might hold some truth to them, but now is not the time to bring any of that up. Larus nods once, nose bumping against Jericho's. ] Maybe you can tell me more when I take you home. [ It's not a rush to get him there, curious enough to take what's being offered and give back. He lets go of the swing with his other hand, gripping Jericho's chin to pull him in and align their lips in a way they brush as he speaks. ] Or wherever you want to go. It's up to you. [ He doesn't want to scare him off, and anyway, they've already made some pretty decent progress in the last hour; it makes him wonder just what the rest of the night would bring. ]
[ When he takes him home. That promise fills him with a sudden warmth, because now he knows he's not going to be alone, and there's this mouth, too, and so much body to explore. So many ways he wants to let him in, to give and to take, and people have told him he's good at this, so this is the one thing he's unafraid of doing. He licks his lips, the brush of their noses oddly sweet, and for a moment he really looks at Larus, his fingers touching his hair curiously, brushing back a wisp that's escaped the band. He moves to trace the slope of his nose, and his thumb travels to the outer corner of his eye before stopping. He has blue eyes, dreamy and soft despite how everything about him tells Jericho he values rationality, things that make sense. This, here, doesn't make a lot of sense, but he's taking the step and Jericho is willing to meet him there. ]
That's okay with me. [ It usually is -- he doesn't have a lot of particulars. ] There's really not that much to tell. I think people think I'm more than what I actually am. [ He's a Satanist, he's on heroin, he's halfway in the closet because he likes girls, too. He's weird, too weird to get too close to, but if you want pot for a good price, he's your guy, but just know that he's probably into gangbanging at frat houses. No one is overly mean to his face, unless he's just sucked some guy who's actually in the closet, but it's already hard for him to get close to people, and when everyone has a preconceived notion to begin with, it's enough to make him not want to try. ] I like to draw, I like ice cream. I'm basically here all the time because I left my foster family when I turned eighteen. [ It's an important distinction to make; they were never family. They were a means to get out of the direct fire of a vicious system that did little to protect him when he needed it most. ] I like your eyes. I want to draw a portrait of you.
[ He accepts the touch without complaint, eyes closed now to focus on the slide of his fingers in his hair and over his face. It's not the most unusual thing for someone to do, but it feels intimate, careful and nice in a way that makes him wonder if Jericho is trying to memorize his features. Larus has never been a particularly vain person; he knows he's decent looking in comparison to some, and it hasn't stopped people from commenting on it if he ever does decide to hook up with someone. Yet, somehow, this is different, and while he soaks up the attention, he's learning a lot more information about Jericho in the process—more than he might have wanted to begin with. Getting to know another person takes time, he knows that, but as a general rule, he's usually pretty good at determining what makes people tick. He can't get a good read on Jericho though, and he wonders if it's because there's more to what he's saying or simply because he's still too high to be himself. ]
I think you need to get out more. [ But he doesn't mean frat parties or mixers or whatever else the rest of campus seems to be into these days. He should get things in order, go to class, make friends... All logical things that Larus doesn't find overly different to achieve, but he doesn't offer that bit of advice to him. There's already some struggle there, from what he's noticed, and mentioning it probably isn't going to make this night go as smoothly as it has so far. So, he tips his face up instead, hand moving to catch Jericho's wrist so he can nip at his thumb. They've already passed the point of being awkward and shy, and that's something he's found he likes about him. ] Is that what you want to do right now? You know you can't do that out here.
[ Maybe he should consider letting Larus take him home. ]
[ He thinks he probably gets out too much, but it doesn't occur to him that Larus is talking about actually attending class and doing his work and maybe going out for coffee with a study group instead of raging keggers, even though this is exactly what his advisor had gently suggested, along with a referral to see a campus counselor that's lost somewhere underneath his bed. But Larus is right about one thing: he can't sketch a portrait here because he doesn't have any of his supplies. He usually at least carries a pencil so he can draw on napkins at the bar, but he thinks it's fallen out of his jacket. ]
Maybe we should go. [ Grass can wait -- Larus has already said there'll be a next time, and right now he has that itch in his fingers. He twists his wrist back, not to loosen Larus' grip but to get him to stand, and then he's pulling him back along the path to lead him to the truck, and once they're on their way, driving along the quiet street, Jericho slides to the floor again, nestling between Larus' legs. He doesn't wait for any kind of protest, though he'd certainly stop if there was one, nimble fingers moving quickly to unzip his jeans and pull out his cock, and then he's sliding it in his mouth, nudging forward, taking him all the way in and swallowing gently to coax him the rest of the way to hardness. His hands rest on his thighs, holding them open, and he's mindful not to block his legs from driving as he works him over with his mouth, wanting to hear the hitch of his breath, wanting his hands on him so they can tighten in his hair. This is dangerous, but his judgment is still a little impaired, and right now there's nowhere else he wants to be besides right here, doing this. ]
Considering some of what he has heard about Jericho, he's not surprised when he gets down between his legs to suck him off. There's a moment Larus has to readjust his focus, one hand on the steering wheel and the other braced lightly against Jericho's head as if to push him away and tell him to wait. It would be the smart thing to do, even pulling over to thoroughly enjoy the wet heat of his mouth and the way he moves his tongue would be better than continuing to drive, but he's not that patient. He slides his fingers deep into Jericho's hair, gripping tight, and stopped at a traffic light, he looks down to watch him. The shadows really do something to the angles of his face. ] This could have waited. [ He's breathless already, admiring the stretch of his mouth around him, and his other hand slips down to press his thumb against the corner.
If he lets this go any further, they're not going to make it back to the dorm, and he really has no interest in doing this in public for an extended amount of time. It'd be a lot more comfortable on his bed... There's a slow breath, lifting his hips as he drags his head down. Maybe it's been a while since he's done this, but it feels too good to tell him to stop, jarring into motion only when someone behind them lays on their horn to get him to move. He curses under his breath, tugging on Jericho's hair. ] You should get back in your seat. We can continue this in a minute. [ That, and he really wants to kiss him, which is a lot easier to do when he's driving than settling into the rhythm of lips around his cock. Larus tries to urge him to listen, driving a little faster now. ]
[ He slides back slowly, letting his cock rest against the edge of his bottom lip when he pulls his hair, eyes flicking up briefly, and because he's not completely unreasonable, he relents, tucking him back in, still wet from his mouth, and climbs back to his seat. He busies himself looking with looking through his jacket, pulling out his little glass pipe and packing a generous pinch of weed into the bowl while he lowers the window. His lighter flicks, and the smoke disappears into the night when he takes a hit, then another just as quickly, and when he turns to look at Larus, his eyes are wide and soft, his shoulders relaxed. He has no interest in doing this any other way. ]
I'm going to draw you after you fuck me. [ A semi-nude portrait he's already planning in his head. He leans closer, his teeth grazing the shell of his ear. Is he being too forward? Larus doesn't seem to mind, but he doesn't want to ruin this. He wants this to run into tomorrow, and maybe the next week, too, because his brain is already buzzing with what else he could do with him as a model, and he knows he should ask first, but he's hoping all of this means yes. He likes this inspired feeling that's coming back to him, one that he hasn't felt often enough lately.
He presses his hand between Larus' legs, kneading the heel of his palm against the bulge in his jeans, as casual as casual can be while his nose brushes his cheek. They're almost there, and he feels a little stab of unease curl in his chest. He doesn't know what it is or what to do with it, so he just tries to ignore it, glancing at the window before closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to his temple, his soft hair tickling his skin. ]
[ The question is almost nonchalant, watching him from the corner of his eye and tolerating the way he presses into his personal space after he lights up, and only when he's pulled into the parking lot closest to Jericho's dorm does he move, turning so he can slide his hand into dark hair and yank him forward. Larus kisses him hard, teeth digging his bottom lip even as he presses closer, and it's difficult to ignore just how different the taste of this is compared to the first one they'd shared in the park, pushing his tongue deeper and chasing whatever this is turning into. He doesn't want to overthink it right now, not with how easy it seems to be. And with what little room there actually is in the cab of the truck, he maneuvers them so Jericho is half-pulled into his lap and he can get his fingers down the front of his pants. ] You should tell me now if you're not okay with this.
[ He doesn't think there's any hesitance, not when he'd been all over him moments before, but Larus tilts his head to soften the kiss anyway, leaning against the driver side door. If he cared enough to ask, he might have inquired about what he was going to draw in more detail, but he doesn't have too much interest in that compared to right now, shifting to cup his hand against him and squeeze. It's a gentle pressure, sucking at his tongue and coaxing him to at least fool around with him a little before they make the trek to his room and continue there. ]
[ The sound that escapes through his teeth when Larus touches him is something between a growl and a mewl, and his palm hits the window with a thud, bracing himself even as he pushes his hips into his hand, seeking more pressure and falling into the ferocity of his kiss. ] Okay, I'll tell you when I'm not into it anymore. [ Which will be never, or at least not this night; he does lose interest in things fairly quickly, but for something like this where his body comes to life in such a way, he won't stop. There's something in him that relentlessly pursues life, even though he has a lot of bumps along the way where he just wants to give up, something won't let him. The idea that there's more is too appealing, so each time he falls into the black hole, he's managed to dig himself out. More or less.
He pants into his mouth, a sting when Larus sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and he retaliates by dragging his teeth down his jaw and toward the tender skin of his throat, sucking a bruise there while tugging the back of his hair to lift his chin. The band comes loose and he's able to grip his locks more firmly, teeth scraping along his skin. He feels like he might float away if he doesn't stay grounded in this moment, and he's glad Larus keeps touching him because it keeps him here, and he shivers lightly, nudging back up to kiss his mouth. ]
[ It's as good an answer as any, and that's what Larus takes it as, working him over at a decent pace so that he's hard in his fist. It doesn't take much, and he wonders if it has anything to do with how ready he'd been to stay between his knees and continue blowing him. But there's only so much room to think, and he can't afford to consider that right now, hissing under his breath as the pressure of Jericho's mouth at his throat. There's no way he's going to be able to hide that considering where it is, so it means returning the favor in kind, and he shifts, bracing a foot against the floor of the truck so there's enough space between them he can pop the button on Jericho's jeans and drag the fly down. ]
I'm not going to fuck you in here. [ Straightforward -- because he doesn't have anything besides a few condoms in his wallet and because there's no room to really spread him out -- and Larus pushes Jericho away from him to get him on his back, mouth trailing down his throat and over his chest. He hikes his shirt up, licking a path to his navel, and there's a careful nip to his hip before his mouth is replacing his hand around his cock, taking up the endeavor Jericho had tried to accomplish while he'd been driving.
It hasn't been so long that he's unpracticed, breathing slow as he sucks him down and grips his hips to keep them in place. Maybe it's just something to take the edge off, something to keep him a little more pliant and a lot less weird, but he pushes all of that out to focus on the heat of him in his mouth, the taste and how he hums quietly to encourage him to get his hands back in his hair to show him exactly what he likes. It should only take a few minutes if he hurries, dragging his tongue over the head to both breathe and speak after a moment. ] Unless you really want me to. [ And if he somehow has any lube on him; he's that considerate at least. ]
[ His stops fighting when he ends up on his back with Larus' mouth hot and wet around him, one hand splayed over his own face as he groans, his neck arching, and the other sliding into Larus' hair, closing around his thick locks almost painfully tight. His grip loosens, then tightens, then loosens again, his breath stuttering with how good this feels, and maybe it's Larus or maybe it's the pot, or maybe it's the thrill that one of the campus security guards doing rounds at the dorms could bust them any minute now. No matter -- he couldn't ask Larus to stop, not with the way his tongue has him writhing against the seat like this. He knows what he's doing, and Jericho knows that he wants this.
The pressure builds, sending heat through his body; his hair already feels damp, the enclosed space of the cab too warm now with the air off, and his soft moans and muffled grunts slowly take on a more breathless quality, tremors stacking up within him, in his hands, in his thighs. He grips the edge of the seat, fingers digging hard into the fabric as he tries to stop pushing his hips so firmly into his mouth, but holding back becomes harder and harder as the seconds tick by, this entire moment made of spit and liquid heat and the soft wet sounds coming from Larus' mouth. He would let him fuck him right now if he wanted to -- he'd let him do anything he wanted to, his chest quivering with the way he's gasping for breath, and his eyes squeeze shut as the edge of a tremor takes hold of him, refusing to let him spill over, so for the longest moment he's suspended in a limbo of piercing hot agony, unable to speak or breathe or do anything but shiver, and then he pushes over with a quiet cry, rolling his face to press into the back of the seat. He just barely manages to give Larus a warning first, his shaking fingers nudging at his jaw to lift him off, and then he's gone, vision whiting out, his legs tightening against the way he tries to hold them open.
He wouldn't say his body necessarily relaxes after, still strung through with tension, weak now with the force of his orgasm, and he can't stop the light tremors that flow through him every time he moves. His breath slowly returns, though shallowly; it's not enough, and it's so hot in the truck that he can feel the sweat edging Larus' temples when his fingers slide away, and when he runs his hands down his own face his skin is damp, flushed. He weakly kicks at the door, still on his back but trying to push himself up with limbs that feel like water. ] Open it. I need some air. [ And some help dragging himself from the truck, but one problem at a time. He pushes out a breath, his eyes fluttering open, his voice thin. ] You're so good, Larus. I could just... crumble away and join the earth right now.
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He already knows he's going to say yes. Larus is nice so far, and he's sexy, and he doesn't seem high maintenance at all, so maybe Jericho can actually keep up with this. Maybe he'll be the one that doesn't mind so much if he does fall behind a little. ] Well, I was really hoping to elope tonight with someone destined to be rich so I'd never have to work again, but I guess dating would work, too. [ Then he's climbing out of his swing and moving to Larus', grabbing hold of the chains to stop the rocking motion, and he slowly leans down, letting Larus tilt his head upwards to meet his mouth, and he's kissing him. It's nice, this moment under the night sky with the warm air against his skin. He hasn't puked tonight -- nothing bad has happened at all, and he doesn't take that for granted. Larus smells good, too, like maybe he uses fabric softener on his clothes or invests in some kind of cologne that makes people want to kiss him. ]
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I haven't heard that much about you. [ Aside from a few rumors that might hold some truth to them, but now is not the time to bring any of that up. Larus nods once, nose bumping against Jericho's. ] Maybe you can tell me more when I take you home. [ It's not a rush to get him there, curious enough to take what's being offered and give back. He lets go of the swing with his other hand, gripping Jericho's chin to pull him in and align their lips in a way they brush as he speaks. ] Or wherever you want to go. It's up to you. [ He doesn't want to scare him off, and anyway, they've already made some pretty decent progress in the last hour; it makes him wonder just what the rest of the night would bring. ]
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That's okay with me. [ It usually is -- he doesn't have a lot of particulars. ] There's really not that much to tell. I think people think I'm more than what I actually am. [ He's a Satanist, he's on heroin, he's halfway in the closet because he likes girls, too. He's weird, too weird to get too close to, but if you want pot for a good price, he's your guy, but just know that he's probably into gangbanging at frat houses. No one is overly mean to his face, unless he's just sucked some guy who's actually in the closet, but it's already hard for him to get close to people, and when everyone has a preconceived notion to begin with, it's enough to make him not want to try. ] I like to draw, I like ice cream. I'm basically here all the time because I left my foster family when I turned eighteen. [ It's an important distinction to make; they were never family. They were a means to get out of the direct fire of a vicious system that did little to protect him when he needed it most. ] I like your eyes. I want to draw a portrait of you.
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I think you need to get out more. [ But he doesn't mean frat parties or mixers or whatever else the rest of campus seems to be into these days. He should get things in order, go to class, make friends... All logical things that Larus doesn't find overly different to achieve, but he doesn't offer that bit of advice to him. There's already some struggle there, from what he's noticed, and mentioning it probably isn't going to make this night go as smoothly as it has so far. So, he tips his face up instead, hand moving to catch Jericho's wrist so he can nip at his thumb. They've already passed the point of being awkward and shy, and that's something he's found he likes about him. ] Is that what you want to do right now? You know you can't do that out here.
[ Maybe he should consider letting Larus take him home. ]
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Maybe we should go. [ Grass can wait -- Larus has already said there'll be a next time, and right now he has that itch in his fingers. He twists his wrist back, not to loosen Larus' grip but to get him to stand, and then he's pulling him back along the path to lead him to the truck, and once they're on their way, driving along the quiet street, Jericho slides to the floor again, nestling between Larus' legs. He doesn't wait for any kind of protest, though he'd certainly stop if there was one, nimble fingers moving quickly to unzip his jeans and pull out his cock, and then he's sliding it in his mouth, nudging forward, taking him all the way in and swallowing gently to coax him the rest of the way to hardness. His hands rest on his thighs, holding them open, and he's mindful not to block his legs from driving as he works him over with his mouth, wanting to hear the hitch of his breath, wanting his hands on him so they can tighten in his hair. This is dangerous, but his judgment is still a little impaired, and right now there's nowhere else he wants to be besides right here, doing this. ]
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Considering some of what he has heard about Jericho, he's not surprised when he gets down between his legs to suck him off. There's a moment Larus has to readjust his focus, one hand on the steering wheel and the other braced lightly against Jericho's head as if to push him away and tell him to wait. It would be the smart thing to do, even pulling over to thoroughly enjoy the wet heat of his mouth and the way he moves his tongue would be better than continuing to drive, but he's not that patient. He slides his fingers deep into Jericho's hair, gripping tight, and stopped at a traffic light, he looks down to watch him. The shadows really do something to the angles of his face. ] This could have waited. [ He's breathless already, admiring the stretch of his mouth around him, and his other hand slips down to press his thumb against the corner.
If he lets this go any further, they're not going to make it back to the dorm, and he really has no interest in doing this in public for an extended amount of time. It'd be a lot more comfortable on his bed... There's a slow breath, lifting his hips as he drags his head down. Maybe it's been a while since he's done this, but it feels too good to tell him to stop, jarring into motion only when someone behind them lays on their horn to get him to move. He curses under his breath, tugging on Jericho's hair. ] You should get back in your seat. We can continue this in a minute. [ That, and he really wants to kiss him, which is a lot easier to do when he's driving than settling into the rhythm of lips around his cock. Larus tries to urge him to listen, driving a little faster now. ]
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I'm going to draw you after you fuck me. [ A semi-nude portrait he's already planning in his head. He leans closer, his teeth grazing the shell of his ear. Is he being too forward? Larus doesn't seem to mind, but he doesn't want to ruin this. He wants this to run into tomorrow, and maybe the next week, too, because his brain is already buzzing with what else he could do with him as a model, and he knows he should ask first, but he's hoping all of this means yes. He likes this inspired feeling that's coming back to him, one that he hasn't felt often enough lately.
He presses his hand between Larus' legs, kneading the heel of his palm against the bulge in his jeans, as casual as casual can be while his nose brushes his cheek. They're almost there, and he feels a little stab of unease curl in his chest. He doesn't know what it is or what to do with it, so he just tries to ignore it, glancing at the window before closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to his temple, his soft hair tickling his skin. ]
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[ The question is almost nonchalant, watching him from the corner of his eye and tolerating the way he presses into his personal space after he lights up, and only when he's pulled into the parking lot closest to Jericho's dorm does he move, turning so he can slide his hand into dark hair and yank him forward. Larus kisses him hard, teeth digging his bottom lip even as he presses closer, and it's difficult to ignore just how different the taste of this is compared to the first one they'd shared in the park, pushing his tongue deeper and chasing whatever this is turning into. He doesn't want to overthink it right now, not with how easy it seems to be. And with what little room there actually is in the cab of the truck, he maneuvers them so Jericho is half-pulled into his lap and he can get his fingers down the front of his pants. ] You should tell me now if you're not okay with this.
[ He doesn't think there's any hesitance, not when he'd been all over him moments before, but Larus tilts his head to soften the kiss anyway, leaning against the driver side door. If he cared enough to ask, he might have inquired about what he was going to draw in more detail, but he doesn't have too much interest in that compared to right now, shifting to cup his hand against him and squeeze. It's a gentle pressure, sucking at his tongue and coaxing him to at least fool around with him a little before they make the trek to his room and continue there. ]
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He pants into his mouth, a sting when Larus sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and he retaliates by dragging his teeth down his jaw and toward the tender skin of his throat, sucking a bruise there while tugging the back of his hair to lift his chin. The band comes loose and he's able to grip his locks more firmly, teeth scraping along his skin. He feels like he might float away if he doesn't stay grounded in this moment, and he's glad Larus keeps touching him because it keeps him here, and he shivers lightly, nudging back up to kiss his mouth. ]
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I'm not going to fuck you in here. [ Straightforward -- because he doesn't have anything besides a few condoms in his wallet and because there's no room to really spread him out -- and Larus pushes Jericho away from him to get him on his back, mouth trailing down his throat and over his chest. He hikes his shirt up, licking a path to his navel, and there's a careful nip to his hip before his mouth is replacing his hand around his cock, taking up the endeavor Jericho had tried to accomplish while he'd been driving.
It hasn't been so long that he's unpracticed, breathing slow as he sucks him down and grips his hips to keep them in place. Maybe it's just something to take the edge off, something to keep him a little more pliant and a lot less weird, but he pushes all of that out to focus on the heat of him in his mouth, the taste and how he hums quietly to encourage him to get his hands back in his hair to show him exactly what he likes. It should only take a few minutes if he hurries, dragging his tongue over the head to both breathe and speak after a moment. ] Unless you really want me to. [ And if he somehow has any lube on him; he's that considerate at least. ]
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The pressure builds, sending heat through his body; his hair already feels damp, the enclosed space of the cab too warm now with the air off, and his soft moans and muffled grunts slowly take on a more breathless quality, tremors stacking up within him, in his hands, in his thighs. He grips the edge of the seat, fingers digging hard into the fabric as he tries to stop pushing his hips so firmly into his mouth, but holding back becomes harder and harder as the seconds tick by, this entire moment made of spit and liquid heat and the soft wet sounds coming from Larus' mouth. He would let him fuck him right now if he wanted to -- he'd let him do anything he wanted to, his chest quivering with the way he's gasping for breath, and his eyes squeeze shut as the edge of a tremor takes hold of him, refusing to let him spill over, so for the longest moment he's suspended in a limbo of piercing hot agony, unable to speak or breathe or do anything but shiver, and then he pushes over with a quiet cry, rolling his face to press into the back of the seat. He just barely manages to give Larus a warning first, his shaking fingers nudging at his jaw to lift him off, and then he's gone, vision whiting out, his legs tightening against the way he tries to hold them open.
He wouldn't say his body necessarily relaxes after, still strung through with tension, weak now with the force of his orgasm, and he can't stop the light tremors that flow through him every time he moves. His breath slowly returns, though shallowly; it's not enough, and it's so hot in the truck that he can feel the sweat edging Larus' temples when his fingers slide away, and when he runs his hands down his own face his skin is damp, flushed. He weakly kicks at the door, still on his back but trying to push himself up with limbs that feel like water. ] Open it. I need some air. [ And some help dragging himself from the truck, but one problem at a time. He pushes out a breath, his eyes fluttering open, his voice thin. ] You're so good, Larus. I could just... crumble away and join the earth right now.