Dexxldot
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Summary
His thoughts were suddenly disrupted by another shot of pain as gloved hand came in contact with sensitive skin.
“Ash, had nobody taught you to be more gentle with a guy at your mercy?”
~~While running around with some errands, Ewron is attacked by two, invisible assailants. He manages to escape alive, but not unscathed, so he calls for help the only person he thinks he can trust. But instead of a quick aid, they both end up dancing on the verge of depraved needs and desires.
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Foolish works a simple job as a florist in a flower shop, enjoying his normal day-to-day routine, but that all changes when a customer leaves him a number...
Foolish tiene un trabajo normal como florista de una floreria, disfrutando de su rutina diaria, pero todo cambia cuando un cliente le deja su número...
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Él era estúpido, tan pero tan estúpido.
Sus ojos morados observaron con horror la prueba entre sus dedos sin poder generar un pensamiento coherente en esos momentos; esto no se suponía que pasara, esto no debió pasar; sentía las náuseas florecer desde su esófago, sentía la ansiedad empezar a cubrir su cuerpo y, por último, sentía un dolor de cabeza a punto de explotarle desde la frente.
Positivo.
Las preguntas empezaban a aparecer dentro de su cerebro: ¿En qué estaba pensando? ¿Cómo no se pudo dar cuenta antes? ¿Qué iba a hacer? Y lo peor de todo en esta situación… ¿Cómo se lo iba a decir a Foolish?
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Ash exhales through his nose, his patience running thin like a rubber band. That is, if it hasn't already snapped. "I have nothing to hide from you."
"She said the exact words—"
"—Then she's lying to your face—"
"—Oh, really?"
Ewron grabs a fistful of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer. He keeps talking. Ash feels his breath ghost over his lips. Warm, like the heat radiating from his skin when they're this close.
He keeps fucking talking. He ought to shut up.
If he won't do it himself, then Ash might have to do it for him.
Or, Ash and Ewron's KFC divorce takes a different turn, rather than them talking it out.
Series
- Part 3 of assassinduo works
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Summary
He thinks of his knees, aching from the time they spent kneeling at Dark Cucurucho’s temple as he prayed for some help, something, anything to get him back. His own blood, other people’s blood, any blood shed to bridge the gap between magic and science, to summon an impossible, miraculous chemical reaction that could make Juan live again so that it wouldn’t be so fucking hard to wake up every day.
“Yeah,” Foolish says after a moment. “It was hard.”