Date: 2020-05-11 04:01 am (UTC)From: [personal profile] almostking
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Holland almost pulls away at that. How dare he, even for a moment, even hint that he should hope for anything...

There was no time. The mistakes had been made. His end would come in the near future and that was the way it would be. It was the only way. Holland wasn’t afraid of death. The mere idea of it was the most romantic bedmate he’d ever had. But, now...

His hand didn’t stop moving. It couldn’t. If he let go he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to touch him again.

Kell sounded so sincere that it made his heart ache. They weren’t close. Barely friends. If even that. But the idea of not existing together was a new kind of terror.

No sing along Kells neck, he breathes in the scent of Red London, of Kell, and buried his face against his skin. Kissing it. Nipping it.

With a swallow, he pulled back just enough to look down into Kells face, to admire the way his emotions were always right there on the surface. He shouldn’t have turned him away all of those years ago.

“We have this moment, Kell,” he said softly, “do not burden yourself by hoping for more.”
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