#litfcse

              COLLAPSING IN A PANTING HEAP on the bench, sawyer twists the cap from his water bottle and hastily partakes from it.  he'll never be a fan of running, but it's an easy way to stay in shape and earn a cupcake, cookie, pie and the like.  he lowers the bottle just in time to see a familiar man tear past him at full speed —— prompting a little smile on sawyer's part in his wake.  by the time he appears again, the baker manages to catch his eye.  he doesn't even look fatigued!  “ you're really good.  i mean... olympic gold medal kind of good. ”

Thor had never once seen Ethan in anything less than a t-shirt and jeans, most times that outfit was topped with a jacket at well, covering up as much of his body as possible, so, yes, it does take him by surprise when blue hues fall upon a torso with scars scattered across it. The way Ethan is sat upon the foot of the bed makes it easy for Thor to settle onto his knees before the man, slowly moving into Ethan’s space so he can press soft, feather-like kisses along his stomach, up the side of his ribcage, along the subtle scarring on his chest. No words fall from his lips to explain why such an action was taken, he simply continues to find various scars and press his lips to them, humming contently.

          he  wasn’t  really.  not  that  he  was  afraid  to,  or  that  it  seemed  too  dangerous.  quite  the  contrary,  actually.  he  liked  playing  on  that  edge  of  danger,  the  whisper  of  death.  perhaps  it  was  to  make  sure  he  was  alive,  not  a  ghost  --  like  he  so  often  felt.  glancing  over  at  the  window  again,  he  shrugs,  "  I  d---don’t  even  tt----tuh---think  you  c-could  sprain  your  aaa-ahnnn-ankle  from  that  height. ”  his  tone  indicates  a  bemused  nature,  but  just  incase,  “  --  don’t  wuh--worry,  I’m  not. ”

.｡*ﾟ+ .｡.:*☆ *.｡         ❝    I’M NOT HERE FOR MYSELF.    i’m here for them   –    ❞     man opposing,   those that line corridors   &   darkened alleyways,    anyone that possesses innocence ‘twixt marrow  &   muscle,   that is what shrouds you in survival.   the drive to succeed,      to keep the world spinning within sunlight compared to threats of horror   -   nuclear warfare,    risk of epidemics,   plans of menace   &  mayhem.   the list goes on   &   so do you.     arms fold themselves ‘pon clothed chest,   act of guard   &   quite frankly,   the quaint flourish of offense that brands your bones.    selfishness does not consume you,   surviving for yourself  &   yourself alone falling under such label,    such is your mindset anyhow   ;    does the other truly believe that is what you stand for   ??          sigh breathes,   strong,   riding waves of delicate irritation that you cannot dispel.   ❝    the only reason i’m still alive is because of purpose.    if i don’t have that,  then sure  -  you’re right.   i wouldn’t survive for myself.   i wouldn’t need to.  ❞     expendable,   ‘til the very end.

.｡*ﾟ+ .｡.:*☆ *.｡

                         ♞ — “ I didn’t think you would. ”  he pins the other man with an intense gaze, leveling with their eyes. The grip he had on the other’s collar tightened.

Strong, tireless. Seasoned with time. Intense. Ethan Hunt’s eyes were the only thing that revealed his humanity, or whatever it is that’s left of it.

Just going by the deep lines on their face, K could see the many times this man has lived and died over the years. Out there, when his own kind's been fighting to stay alive, this man has flirted and cheated on Death in a million impossible ways. K couldn’t even begin to fathom how many the count. The guy had a death wish. 

He doesn’t assume to know much about him. They’ve only just started working together on the Mission. But had it not been for K pulling him out of that close shave, he wouldn’t be here trying to justify his actions.

“ If the Mission is the only thing that’s giving you a purpose, then do us all a favor and try to stay alive. ” K gives him this ultimatum, prodding a finger on the man’s chest. “ I won’t be there to save your ass each time. It’s not part of my job. ”

            “Were you up all night, afraid of what the future might bring?”

@sepiacasket

@litfcse

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This man didn’t look like the sort who would own such a thing, the motorcycle sleek and very sporty and the man...well, for starters he had a few stray flowers stuck within his curly hair. He was wearing a leather jacket but also a Hawaiian shirt with the most God awful, eye straining pattern one could possibly find.