#pyrocidal

Send a ◈ for a first kiss between our muses.

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   Previous, Jack had made numerous advances towards him. And the Guard has simply brushed it off. But this time - strangely enough - Simon made no attempt to push the other man away. Was in the booze currently fogging his mind? Maybe the stress of this place had gotten to him?

   Or the fact this inmate was the only one actually treating him like a normal person?

   It was dangerous, getting close to a man he was supposed to be keeping in line. A guard and an inmate? Being intimate? He’d probably lose his job. Then again, the other Guards and Doctors were doing far worse things to the inmates. Simon was quite a Saint compared to them...

   The other man’s hands were buried in his work shirt, pulling him close as lips collided with his own. The strong taste of scotch still lingering upon Jack’s tongue, the bottle they had been sharing knocked to the side as Simon moved a hand up to cup the un-burned side of Jack’s face. Deepening the kiss for a moment, before seeming to come to his sense. Pulling away from a now confused Jack. 

She didn’t say a word - it was rare for her to string together more than a short sentence these days; after all, she had not intended to survive her visit to Mount Massive...to be laying in the tall grass in the middle of the woods months after the place had burned to the ground...what could someone who didn’t know the first thing to do with them truly have to say?

Send a "🍷💖" and My Muse will drunkenly flirt with Your Muse

~~~

   “Hey Jaaaaaaaaaaack.”

   Simon was clearly drunk; judging by his slurred words, and the fact he was wielding a mostly empty bottle of whiskey. With a lop sided smile upon his features, he plopped his chin down upon Jack’s shoulder, peering at him. “Heeeeey..... do you like Baaaacon?”

   A rather odd question. Maybe Simon was attempting some form of terrible flirtation? He never was really any good at it after all. Even more so when drunk. 

              “Wanna strip?”

   “Bloody Hell, Jack. Now is not the-”

   His words were cut off as lips clashed against his own. There was an urgency behind Jack’s actions; like a beast who had been denied food for far too long. Fingers clung to the other’s shirt, trying to steady himself as the other pushed him up against the wall. Pinning him in place. 

   ~ Who gave the boy matches?

   A lil something something for @pyrocidal

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✓ Our muses share a hug after being separated for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   After spending a considerable amount of time in the infirmary - considering Simon had an unfortunate run in with a less then docile patient - he was back up on his feet and working. Not that he had much choice. The moment the nurse deemed him able to work, he had been thrown out and back on shift. Murkoff didn’t like their employee’s slacking. And so, barely into his shift, Simon wasn’t too pleased when he felt strong arms suddenly engulf him. Not in a threatening manner, but it still caused his sore ribs to ache something fierce.

   As relieved as he was to finally be able to breath again; being shoved around was also not welcomed. Slamming into the tables pretty much winded the already short of breath Simon as he collapsed to the floor. Of all the patients to run into - Jack was the last one Simon wanted to see. Hell, even Chris would have been a more welcomed sight.