Steve gave a wave of his hand that was previously busy rubbing at the shirt currently trying to stick to him more like super glue than wet cloth. "They have that thing."
You know, that thing. Like his body was having that thing about wanting air. Rather insistently, and some water. So that he's aborting the first gesture to motion about following him to the car. Feeling every step still like small shocks of warmth. That don't hurt, don't make him long to rest. Lean against the truck, down sixteen ounces of water.
He just wants to turn right around. He wants to blast his way back up. He wants to go faster and harder. He wants the people out of his way. He wants to break out his watch and actually time himself. And make it even better the third time. Push and push and push until the only thought is forward, the only feeling is movement. Until every muscles is being stretched as far its able to go.
Into that tense, rubbery glow right at the edge of feeling like he might fall apart, go flying apart in every direction.
"Ship shape and spit polish didn't mix so well with that much dirt the last time I was out at sea."
He might have been smirking through the throbbing finding ways to localize, across the back of his right shoulder, across that rib and into others close to it, brand across his stomach and parts of of his chest. "And that's after you find a way to keep from sinking first."
no subject
You know, that thing. Like his body was having that thing about wanting air. Rather insistently, and some water. So that he's aborting the first gesture to motion about following him to the car. Feeling every step still like small shocks of warmth. That don't hurt, don't make him long to rest. Lean against the truck, down sixteen ounces of water.
He just wants to turn right around. He wants to blast his way back up. He wants to go faster and harder. He wants the people out of his way. He wants to break out his watch and actually time himself. And make it even better the third time. Push and push and push until the only thought is forward, the only feeling is movement. Until every muscles is being stretched as far its able to go.
Into that tense, rubbery glow right at the edge of feeling like he might fall apart, go flying apart in every direction.
"Ship shape and spit polish didn't mix so well with that much dirt the last time I was out at sea."
He might have been smirking through the throbbing finding ways to localize, across the back of his right shoulder, across that rib and into others close to it, brand across his stomach and parts of of his chest. "And that's after you find a way to keep from sinking first."