#*leakee

@infragilvs // #kingofswiing ( meme )

6. Our muses haven’t seen each other in ages. When they reunite, my muse is so overcome with emotion that they kiss yours, for the first time

It wasn’t that Leakee didn’t want Cesaro – he did, in the worst way, which was exactly why he didn’t let himself indulge. He couldn’t let Cesaro know how bad Leakee had it, knew his feelings could be used against him. He wasn’t the type of person to open himself up to vulnerability like that, and he’d done a great job teasing Cesaro.

Just enough to keep him coming back, but never giving him what he really wanted.

But then things happened and Leakee didn’t see Cesaro for months. It should have been the needed break, the separation, to get his emotions under control, and he’d thought he’d done just that, ignoring the excitement he felt blossom in his chest at the thought of finally seeing the Swiss again.

Leakee was dressed to the nines, as usual, sunglasses on despite the fact that he was inside and there was no sun to speak of (outside, it was already dark, so it wasn’t as if he’d need them then either). Adjusting his suit cuffs and watching Cesaro’s match backstage, certain he’d be cool and composed when Cesaro finally made it to where Leakee was (unbeknownst to Cesaro) waiting.

            In retrospect, drinking with blow lining his sinuses might’ve been a mistake. No bigger than the one that’d thought keeping company with Leakee was a good idea… No bigger than swiping the cash from his old lady’s purse to pay the fare to get to the party in the first place. On the other side of town where the only reason anyone’d let him in their house was because they knew he had party supplies in his pockets and the number of a guy who’d bring more if needed… not that there were any minutes left on his phone… not that he hadn’t already snorted a fourth of the order.

It was why smart people were giving him a wide berth. Wild-eyed and delirious enough to laugh at a girl holding herself and crying in the corner of the room, that arms had draped over broad shoulders might’ve been surprising another time. Might’ve come with the warning to watch himself… memories of meaty fists turning his mouth into a bloody pulp… knocking out a tooth…

Jon’d think about sobering up later.

“Heeey man… fuckin’ fa—…” slur stunted with the press of lips to the curve of Leakee’s jaw, raised higher for the effort of folding flush, the snicker loosed met wetted skin before teeth toyed with an urge to join. “Yanno… you.. you’re a stu—…” another nip, hips knocked forward and eyes closed for a mix of grogginess and contentment, the voice Jon found was weak and jumbling, jabs at the other’s appearance somewhere before and after an I love you that failed to dull. 

Leakee had no idea how Mox had managed to get into this party – it wasn’t exactly a closed invitation, but it wasn’t the kind of crackhead gathering that was more Mox’s speed. No, it was a real party, full of teenagers hanging out to look cool and pretend they were having a good time.

Except maybe it wasn’t that surprising, considering that the guy who’d thrown the party was known to be into harder stuff. On the football team but free from any worry of being drug tested – coaches knew at that point who would pass and who would fail and administered them accordingly, if at all, because the record of wins and losses on the field was more important than the integrity of the team.

The real mystery was why Mox decided that he’d be up Leakee’s ass the entire time. He’d already succeeded in cock-blocking Leakee, scaring off the guy he’d been flirting with, and now there was . . . this. He knew how it looked, too, hoped that no one got the wrong idea about it all. Mox hanging off of Lea like they were friends when they were far from it, giving what he assumed were meant to be kisses like they had a thing.

But of course, the broken soundtrack of insults that always spilled from Mox’s stupid mouth didn’t stop -- Leakee was starting to think that he couldn’t stop talking shit. Would explain why he said things to guys twice his size that he knew would get his ass kicked.

Send an “Ѡ” for my muse’s reaction to being sent accidental nudes.

[ text ] is that it?

[ text ] not that i was expecting much.

Send “👋” to smack my muse on the butt.

Leakee jumped, a quiet little squeak escaping them before they could silence themselves. “Roman! You scared the hell out of me!” Smacking their older brother’s chest for emphasis, face scrunched up in a pout.

SEND ‘ROUGH TOUCH’

and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter.

17. Your muse clutches their hand tightly around my muse’s mouth to silence them.

Leakee couldn’t even recall what, exactly, he’d been talking about, but he knew it was important. Everything Leakee said was important, after all, if only for the fact that he said it. Had been going on for quite a while, admittedly, but it was hard to stop once Leakee really got going on a subject.

He half expected Regal to walk away at some point or to try to interrupt. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the hand suddenly slapped over his mouth. Startled him enough for him to stop talking, eyes widening.