// citrus //

The fruit is soft and warm in Justin's hand, fitting the arch of his fingers, smooth against his palm.

"Here," he says, close to JC's ear, curving himself to the swell of JC's hip, "for you."

JC smiles, eyes lazy slits, and Justin wants to taste the line of his throat, to trace it with his tongue, salt and sweat and heat.

"Tangerine," JC says slowly, drawing the word out, taking the fruit and lifting it to Justin's lips, dragging it across the swell of his mouth. "You want some?"

Justin nods, the tip of his tongue snaking out to flick across JC's wrist. JC hums softly, nipping at one of Justin's fingers, brief, sharp pain that winds through him, comes to rest warm and heavy between his legs. He watches JC roll the tangerine gently in his hand, then quickly pierce the soft flesh with his thumbnail.

"Open your mouth," JC murmurs, and Justin does, quick, shallow breaths as JC slips his fingers inside the fruit, watches it split and blossom into tiny, lacy segments. The air shimmers with the slick tang of citrus, and Justin can feel it curving against the back of his throat, bright like blood.

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