Jiho leans forward, eyes heavy,  drooping hoods. Thus, Jaehyo leans back; shuffles away from him, eyes frantic, rolling marbles in strung-out sockets.

 

"Don't suppose we could try again." Jiho breathes; tic-tac and minty fresh and Jaehyo is under no impression that it is a question.

 

Jaehyo flinches, draws his ragged knees upto his bony ribs and whimpers,  but such high pitched tendrils are easily swallowed by the threadbare coach. Jiho smirks in response,  his cherry stained lips triumphant crescents basking in the delicacy of such tender wounds. 

 

Jaehyo gasps as Jiho's rough hands tear his scars wide open.