In the end, it was the lip ring that did me in.

The fucking lip ring. Twisted little loop of metal piercing flesh, stabbing through his skin. Pressed against the generous curve of his lower lip, making it look softer, fuller, sweeter somehow. Sharp cold contrast to the delicate face, hint of steel in the soft voice, hint of danger in the gentle eyes. A physical reminder that this thin, pale boy had edges. Edges sharp and hard enough to bleed, and I wanted to taste them all.

When he was in the room my mind stopped working, filled only with thoughts of his mouth and all the things I wanted to do with it. To lunge across the table between us and pin him to the couch, hard enough to make him gasp. Slide my tongue between those shock-parted lips and lick along sharp teeth, explore every inch of that warm, dizzying mouth. Take that lush lower lip between my teeth and bite hard enough to bleed, then suck that glorious piece of metal into my mouth, tang of iron mingling with the coppery sweetness. Suck until it hurt, until it bruised, until he begged me to stop. Claiming it with the sweep of my tongue, marking it with teeth and lips until we both knew it was mine.