fight club,
@blcklevi
above every hedonistic interest he has-- one reigns true, that thril will always be the best result achieved. in the conquests he saunters after, its always the thrill of it; who would approve, who wouldn’t; what boundaries could he press against before he gets in trouble-- what sort of reaction would he get that would amuse and get his heart really pumping?
and if anything gets that real intense beat-- it’s looking the possibility of death in the eye and surviving. it’s the thrill of being so vulnerable for a moment before he’s able to get one foot right in front of another. especially -- especially if levi is any sort of involved.
he breathes quickly, a wicked grin crossing his face as he gazes up at the other, eyes flickering over the other’s face as he hums, shifting under the other. one arm is pressed to his side, and the other is pinned under the weight of levi’s limb. the touch of metal under his jaw is something exciting-- blood rushing through his body as he arches his neck, grinning boyishly.
“ah, my favorite position.” he chuckles into the air, voice a bit ragged in the silence of the training room. his fingers twitch around the knife in his hand, and he shifts, adjusting his other arm slightly; tips of his fingers grazing the holster on his leg. “aren’t you just the master of knowing how to get me on my back?”
