One more, just to be safe.
The air is cold without his body up against mine. But he’s there on the wall still, wilted and hands flat on either side of his hips as if he’s staying upright only by that contact. The low light of his room throws him into shadows, and he is every bit a Halloween prince, an interplay of joy hidden in darkness, sparks in the night.
His hair is mussed, collar spread open and a spot on his shoulder is red.
He sees me looking at it. And reaches up, lays fingers on that spot.
His eyelashes flutter.
Oh fuck.
I dive back in, half rabid, half ecstatic, and he meets me there, driving up against me with his mouth open already and my lips meet his and I need to leaveright nowor else—
I lurch back, fingers splayed, and do not look at him. Cannot. I’m staring at the floor. The very, very interesting pattern of his rug.
Our hard breaths grate in the ensuing silence.
“I’m leaving now,” I say. My lips feel bruised.
Why the fuck am I leaving now?
Because I’m a goddamn gentleman. Iam.Leaving. And a gentleman.
“All right,” he says again. He’s ragged.
I walk. Determined, intensified steps. And it isn’t until I get to the door that I trust myself enough to turn and look, but at the space by his feet.
“Good night,” I say, stupidly, because what else do you say to someone who let you take the first layers off, see the flush and the pebbled skin?
At the edge of my vision, I note Hex’s hand on his mouth, the barest touch of his fingertips to his lips.
“Good night,” he echoes.
Peep, Mini Candy Cane, and the Best Claus
KRIS
Iris, Coal isn’t answering his texts again. Have you seen him?
Coal?? The fuck dude, you said you’d let me know how it went last night.
IRIS
how what went?
KRIS
He went to talk to Hex about some things.
IRIS
..…. you sent coal to talk to hex alone
KRIS
Yeah, that was the general plan.
IRIS
