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Summary
“…Why’re you still here?” Lucius stills, a small furrow forming in-between his brows. He’s still holding onto Izzy’s injured wrist—the skin chaffed skin is hot beneath his fingers, and smells sweetly of the chamomile salve that’s resting on the nightstand just a few inches away—but he’s no longer massaging Izzy’s skin, and Izzy finds he misses the sensation.
“What do you mean?” He asks. He wishes that Izzy were looking at him, but understands that, even in this headspace, it’s easier for him to talk about topics that have the potential to be… incredibly emotionally taxing… if he doesn’t have to make and maintain eye contact. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Bullshit.” Izzy snorts, “You got what you wanted. You don’t have to stick around to…” Izzy turns his head—just a little—to look at where Lucius is holding onto his hand. “What the fuck are you doing, anyway?”
Series
- Part 5 of OFMD Kink Meme Fills
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