"Ta, Taega." It's all he wanted. The blade retreats to stamp into the icy sidewalk so he can return to his seat on the bench and take off his skate. It was merely being used to aid in lessening the speed of which someone might pursue him. Now that that wasn't going to be the case...
Fingers tuck into his shirt, rubbing the sore spot on his chest that would have a new bruise on that flawless skin by the morning. "It's a good thing, too. You'd make a -terrible- prostitute. We're too sweet, anyways," he mentions, fluttering a playful smile at the still standing figure. "Come. Sit with me, Taega."
He pats the bench next to him, setting the earned money in the seat. "Let's discuss how you might be able to eat like a king for the rest of your life. That is, if you're man enough to stand spending an hour with a queer."
Cameron shifts on the mans side, nose nuzzling the muscle bound breast of his dearest friend. The skating hand slows to lay flat against the beating rise of Taega's chest, warmed by the thmpthmpthmping skin. Voluminous lips press softly to a pair of ribs, investing a sweetened salute to the stippled skin. "Glad you're with me," he breathes against the kiss, offering one more before resting ear and temple to Taega's shoulder.
Taega's face elongates as he smugly chews his tongue, finding a faceless reason for feeling as though he'd won this battle. He'd never be the type to settle with or for anyone. Maybe take a partner shortrun. One or two small scores, a big take, and a body before the cash is split. Ruthlessness is all he needs to know to get by, but some cooperation couldn't hurt. Not for now.
They stand opposite eachother like far ends of a human spectrum. One light and flirty, making particularly gorgeous eyes up at the other, harsh and animal with eyes a total perversion of that cunning beauty. Black as sin and equally troubling. He sighs thoughtfully through his nose and turns, bending at the waist until his hands find the flat of the bench and ease him down to his seat. "Speak..."
Wave after wave of cool air laps over their melded bodies, warmed near to a point of insentience. It's irrelevant. All of it. Taega's hand splays against the bare floor, arm hung over the edge of the couch to accomodate the fox. The sound of the first kiss sets his heart to a second beat, speeding it until the rhythm changes entirely. The second paints a smile on his muzzle so soft that it juxtaposes not his appearance but, essentially, his self. The killer. The wolf. "To the end."
Fingers tuck into his shirt, rubbing the sore spot on his chest that would have a new bruise on that flawless skin by the morning. "It's a good thing, too. You'd make a -terrible- prostitute. We're too sweet, anyways," he mentions, fluttering a playful smile at the still standing figure. "Come. Sit with me, Taega."
He pats the bench next to him, setting the earned money in the seat. "Let's discuss how you might be able to eat like a king for the rest of your life. That is, if you're man enough to stand spending an hour with a queer."
Cameron shifts on the mans side, nose nuzzling the muscle bound breast of his dearest friend. The skating hand slows to lay flat against the beating rise of Taega's chest, warmed by the thmpthmpthmping skin. Voluminous lips press softly to a pair of ribs, investing a sweetened salute to the stippled skin. "Glad you're with me," he breathes against the kiss, offering one more before resting ear and temple to Taega's shoulder.
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They stand opposite eachother like far ends of a human spectrum. One light and flirty, making particularly gorgeous eyes up at the other, harsh and animal with eyes a total perversion of that cunning beauty. Black as sin and equally troubling. He sighs thoughtfully through his nose and turns, bending at the waist until his hands find the flat of the bench and ease him down to his seat. "Speak..."
Wave after wave of cool air laps over their melded bodies, warmed near to a point of insentience. It's irrelevant. All of it. Taega's hand splays against the bare floor, arm hung over the edge of the couch to accomodate the fox. The sound of the first kiss sets his heart to a second beat, speeding it until the rhythm changes entirely. The second paints a smile on his muzzle so soft that it juxtaposes not his appearance but, essentially, his self. The killer. The wolf. "To the end."
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