![]() I don’t need you drawing attention to it!” “Being bruised up like a novice warlock who doesn’t know concealing spells is bad enough. The dragon has graduated to cradling the hickey like something precious-like it’s an egg, or a part of its hoard. It doesn’t hurt, but it does tickle unpleasantly Tim slaps reflexively at the sensation and only gets tattooed fire on his hand for his trouble. In response, the dragon breathes fire up his jaw and behind his ear. He fears the secondhand nature of his stern look may lessen its effectiveness, but he’s not in the mood for the kind of complex spellwork it would take to stare directly at his own neck.) (Or rather, the dragon’s reflection in the mirror. “No,” Tim says again, staring sternly at the dragon. It’s now wrapped tightly around the most obvious of the hickies Jason left on him last night-the one right below the hinge of his jaw, which was impossible to miss even before it was encircled by a red, yellow, and green dragon. His dragon tattoo, which usually spreads itself across his chest, decided to relocate during the shower. It’s when he gets out of the shower and looks in the mirror that his wonderful morning comes screeching to a halt, because. It’s Saturday and he has nowhere to be until patrol, so he takes his time, enjoying the hot water and the flashes of memory that come with every bruise and bite he soaps over. He drinks his first cup of coffee leaning against the kitchen counter, then takes the second with him when he goes to shower. Tim actually catches himself humming when he finally rouses himself out of bed. Really, it’s been far too long since he last got laid, and the exceedingly thorough job Jason did leaves no room for any even slightly negative emotion. Truly, the last thing he needs is an added complication to his already complex relationship with his predecessor.īut in addition to being spectacularly ill-advised, it was also just spectacular. Intellectually, Tim knows that hooking up with Jason was spectacularly ill-advised. ![]() Tim’s free to luxuriate in the ache that echoes through his whole body and the lingering endorphins from a night of really, truly excellent sex. Jason didn’t stick around more than five minutes after the final orgasm last night, so there’s no morning-after awkwardness to navigate through. The pleasant soreness he feels when he rolls over upgrades it to wonderful. That alone would be enough to qualify this as a good morning. Tim wakes slowly and easily, to the spell-muffled sound of distant traffic and the beautiful silence of no alarms. ![]() It takes them another half hour before they leave the roof they’re on, but they make it to Tim’s place eventually. Tim doesn’t think he can be blamed for not thinking at all before answering, “Mine’s closer.” Jason’s got one hand in Tim’s hair, one hand around his neck, and one glorious thigh pressing between both of Tim’s when he asks, “Your place or mine?” It starts with another argument, that escalates into a fight, that escalates (somehow) into making out.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |