LOL HAY woodfall I GOT A PRESENT <3 PAYBACK BITCH
LOL JESS STARTED IT
There was something about the way he moved, and Mordecai couldn't quite put his finger on it, never could, and he doubted he would ever be able to. But he just moved, and it's fluid, and it's languid, but rough around the edges, sharp and jagged, and what is it? Not right, just like every bone in his body, every muscle the forced him into action, every breath that made him whole; not right, and it's what he loved, it's what he needed. It's what pushed him to draw long fingers beneath his chin, tilt it up as amused eyes peered into curious ones. Younger ones.
Human, and alive, and breathing, and warm.
Everything that Ghost wasn't, and maybe that's what made Mordecai push him back. Maybe that's what made Mordecai press one hand to his shoulder as he moved him back against the tree, knee shifting to slide in between his legs as the grip on his chin tightened considerably, uncomfortably. Ghost only smiled.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" It wasn't a question because it didn't need to be one. Mordecai already knew the answer.
"I could ask the same of you."
"I belong here."
"What makes you think I don't?"
Rapid-fire, and quick, and dark eyes narrowed, focused on the face looking up at him as his fingers tapped lightly against the bark next to Ghost's head.
"You're alive."
"Fuck you, Ghost."
"So sensitive, Mordecai."
Usually, like every other time, he would have reached for his gun, would have reached for the mass of metal at his side, but he didn't. He didn't. Instead, his hand fell away, moved down to tug the small switchblade from his pocket. Finger moved up, pushed it open, and his lips were warm (hot, burning, nearly made Ghost tremble) against the side of his neck, against the delicate pulse at his throat. The blade was hard, blunt from continual usage, but it was easy enough to pierce through soft flesh, supple skin, and Mordecai didn't have to struggle too hard to push it deep, push it hard into the space at his gut that would have had any other man screaming, whimpering, crying. Pleading.
But Ghost didn't even flinch. His fingers only moved up to trail their way through Mordecai's dark hair, grip it lightly, yank him closer as the knife was twisted, and blood seeped about the wound, soaking the bottom of his shirt. Mordecai's mouth stayed against his neck, against his shoulder, biting, and nipping, and fuck. Fuck him. Fuck him. He didn't need this shit, and the knife was twisted harder, harder, didn't work, and fuck him. Fuck the stupid bitch.
"You can't kill me, Mordecai."
Sinking his teeth into the cool flesh beneath his collarbone, Mordecia only let out a small grunt in response. It said all he needed to say, really: "Why the fuck not?"
That's when Ghost was pulling back, watching the face watching him with an expression that bordered on humored, bordered on being entertained, and it only made Mordecai more irritated. His hand fell away from the knife still planted deep within the side of Ghost's stomach, and the other man lifted one hand, patted him on the chest lightly.
"Already dead."
There was something about the way he moved, and Mordecai couldn't quite put his finger on it, never could, and he doubted he would ever be able to. But he just moved, and it's fluid, and it's languid, but rough around the edges, sharp and jagged, and what is it? Not right, just like every bone in his body, every muscle the forced him into action, every breath that made him whole; not right, and it's what he loved, it's what he needed. It's what pushed him to draw long fingers beneath his chin, tilt it up as amused eyes peered into curious ones. Younger ones.
Human, and alive, and breathing, and warm.
Everything that Ghost wasn't, and maybe that's what made Mordecai push him back. Maybe that's what made Mordecai press one hand to his shoulder as he moved him back against the tree, knee shifting to slide in between his legs as the grip on his chin tightened considerably, uncomfortably. Ghost only smiled.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" It wasn't a question because it didn't need to be one. Mordecai already knew the answer.
"I could ask the same of you."
"I belong here."
"What makes you think I don't?"
Rapid-fire, and quick, and dark eyes narrowed, focused on the face looking up at him as his fingers tapped lightly against the bark next to Ghost's head.
"You're alive."
"Fuck you, Ghost."
"So sensitive, Mordecai."
Usually, like every other time, he would have reached for his gun, would have reached for the mass of metal at his side, but he didn't. He didn't. Instead, his hand fell away, moved down to tug the small switchblade from his pocket. Finger moved up, pushed it open, and his lips were warm (hot, burning, nearly made Ghost tremble) against the side of his neck, against the delicate pulse at his throat. The blade was hard, blunt from continual usage, but it was easy enough to pierce through soft flesh, supple skin, and Mordecai didn't have to struggle too hard to push it deep, push it hard into the space at his gut that would have had any other man screaming, whimpering, crying. Pleading.
But Ghost didn't even flinch. His fingers only moved up to trail their way through Mordecai's dark hair, grip it lightly, yank him closer as the knife was twisted, and blood seeped about the wound, soaking the bottom of his shirt. Mordecai's mouth stayed against his neck, against his shoulder, biting, and nipping, and fuck. Fuck him. Fuck him. He didn't need this shit, and the knife was twisted harder, harder, didn't work, and fuck him. Fuck the stupid bitch.
"You can't kill me, Mordecai."
Sinking his teeth into the cool flesh beneath his collarbone, Mordecia only let out a small grunt in response. It said all he needed to say, really: "Why the fuck not?"
That's when Ghost was pulling back, watching the face watching him with an expression that bordered on humored, bordered on being entertained, and it only made Mordecai more irritated. His hand fell away from the knife still planted deep within the side of Ghost's stomach, and the other man lifted one hand, patted him on the chest lightly.
"Already dead."