#sniperborn

pretty girl!!!

    Edgar is under no illusion that the crew, especially the Lads, find him intimidating. He’s an accountant, which already has a generally negative dead stigma around it, and he’s taller and larger than them. They’s never seen him smile or laugh and when they do hear him speak it’s usually clipped sentences. 

    He’s a little surprised Ray didn’t yell at him or just walk away. Actually Edgar is still surprised he spoke up for god’s sake, but.... tears kind of do it for him. He’s got a soft interior, unfortunately, and red eyes and wet cheeks tend to rip it out of him. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, searching for an answer. 

meme || send me 'i want the k' and i'll generate a number      ↳ xiv: 'kiss along the hips.’

     he doesn’t know how he’d gotten to this point -- how they’d gotten to this point. the last few months had been weird. wrong, in his eyes. with ray branching off and him getting taken and tortured; no matter how much he wishes against it, things are changing. 

     it’d been a long time of silence. the last time ray saw him, he was still bleeding out of the wound where his arm had been cut clean off. he’s come a long way since then, a shiny, metallic prosthetic attached to his body -- and ryan’s good with it, like that’s been his arm his entire life. however, even with how proud he is and how he lets his ego get a little big, he didn’t expect himself to be rolling around in the sheets with his old partner. not even when he consciously drove in the direction of the younger man’s house because he was feeling bloodthirsty and needed someone to calm him down.

     ray did. and now here they are, ray breathless beneath ryan, stripped to nothing but his boxers and it’s insane. it’s obscene. his skin is dark and smooth and real compared to the mechanical fingers that he tries not to let touch ray’s skin more than they need to.

     they don’t say anything. they don’t need to. ryan doesn’t want to. he doesn’t know ray’s excuse, and frankly, he doesn’t care all that much. he’s thinking too much. always thinking too much.

     leaning down in an attempt to distract himself, ryan brushes his lips against the exposed skin of ray’s hipbone. the younger man shudders, and ryan forgets what he’d been dwelling so hard over a few moments prior. that’s a problem, he thinks. ray shouldn’t have that much control over him.