Fuck it, we ball I'm still dying and so too shall you. WIP Wednesday, here's a bit from each of the scenes that's fuckin killing me right now so you can suffer too enjoy
"You know, if you're not careful, I might just kiss you, Mr. Caleb." It was murmured with too much tenderness and affection to really be considered a quip. "Who said I'm good at being careful, Mr. Mollymauk?" "You, usually." "And if I'd like to be less so?" "A bold move, for you."
and
"Oh, Essek." Molly freed his hand to hold Essek’s other cheek, pressing their foreheads together. Essek anchored himself to bracelet filled wrists. A soft kiss placed on his cheekbone. “Starlight, we’re all about hope around here. There’s always some kind of hope.” Essek had no reply to that. It seemed Molly didn’t expect one, he just pulled Essek closer into a full hug, burying his face into his shoulder. “I’m so glad you told me,” he whispered. “There may always be hope, but I was becoming content with just loving you from afar, as much as I thought I could get away with.”
AND
Their entire dance had gone unspoken. They had agreed, silently then too, that protecting Molly, loving Molly, was something they’d do together. Not as a unit, not as a them, but a goal they were both united in. The give and take tension between them had never been addressed. It seemed they were addressing it now. Caleb squeezed Essek’s fingers and let himself finally, finally, press a soft kiss to the space right where the tight shave and cloud of curls met. Essek raised their intertwined hands and kissed the back of Caleb’s. From the kitchen, the kettle whistled. They sat like that for a long few moments, Essek occasionally peppering kisses to Caleb’s knuckles. He didn’t want to break the moment, afraid that if he called attention to it out loud that Essek would fly back to the other end of the couch. But he had to be sure. Quietly he asked, “Does this mean what I think-” “Yes,” Essek cut him off in a rush, as if he too had been holding a question in.
