Work Text:
Pyro stares up at Spy, gaze expectant even under the cover of tinted glass.
Shaky hands fumble with a lighter. He hears pyro laugh quietly at his trembling and he shoots them a glare that silences them.
They haven’t even touched him yet…but the prospects of this encounter have him anxiety ridden like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Spy lights his cigarette, staring into the abyss. The flame stares back in its reflection.
He draws in a sharp breath that stings his lungs, then leans down, cupping the module of his lovers mask. Then, he presses his lips to it and exhales.
After a moment, Pyros chest rises and they burst into a short coughing fit.
It’s Spy’s turn to laugh.
“I assumed you would be accustomed to breathing in smoke by now.”
He takes another drag.
“It seems I have the upper-hand in that respect.”
They clear their throat and grumble, bringing up a hand to rub at their neck.
After that they fall into apprehensive silence once more.
Their chest is bare, littered with scar tissue like thread delicately woven into a tapestry. Some patches of skin are deliberate in design. Scars that swirl and curve with careful artistry. They did that themself. Using their body as a canvas.
Spy finds himself nervous about desecrating the art that is their body.
But his lover huffs at him impatiently. Puffs their chest out shamelessly.
They don’t mean to be impolite, they’re just excited. It took so long to convince Spy to do this for them.
“You’re making it hard for me to be a gentleman..”
He says, uncharacteristically bashful as he forces out a laugh. Their hand wraps around his wrist, forcing his hand and cigarette closer to their flesh. They whine his name and his resolve dissipates with a sigh.
He snuffs it out with a twist on the skin of their collarbone. They jerk, then groan in a way that makes him throb, hand shooting out and twisting around his tie, pulling his face down to theirs. Choking him slightly.
He pushes it away, gently pressing their wrist into the plush pillow beneath their head, examining his work. They mutter an apology.
Spy smiles, and Pyro tilts their head, which he then pats the top of.
“My work is flawless, of course.”
The forming blister reveals a tiny heart.