[Isaac makes no effort to meet him halfway, waiting for Hector to come to him, and he isn't disappointed. But he's not made of stone - and when Hector's mouth finds his, there is give to his jaw, lips sliding open, even while he remembers the man who tried to broker peace with slanina is the same man who could've strangled him with his fishing line giving half the chance. He can only wonder how much of that murderous intent festering inside Hector was real, in that moment. The hand that has touched down gently over his cheek would say little, if any. But people lie all the time.
Hector tastes like rust and meat. Tastes like a predator, though he's anything but, the way he's kissing him now. And neither is Isaac, his hand dipping between them to palm himself, to work up a proper interest, willing his still-cold body to let him have this.]
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Hector tastes like rust and meat. Tastes like a predator, though he's anything but, the way he's kissing him now. And neither is Isaac, his hand dipping between them to palm himself, to work up a proper interest, willing his still-cold body to let him have this.]