Work Text:
Marlon takes Willy’s hand in the elevator. They’ve never held hands before; he must be able to tell that Willy’s nervous.
Eeling with the heat rolling off the lava lake into his face is a challenge unlike any Willy has faced. He can only bear the heat for long enough to catch one eel, but that’s enough to make eel tacos back at Marlon’s. They’re like nothing Willy’s ever eaten. They’re also hot: not quite temperature-hot, not quite spicy-hot. Willy and Marlon eat them doused in sour cream, blowing their noses, laughing through the tears streaming down their cherry-red cheeks.
HullyGee Sat 06 Sep 2025 10:04AM UTC
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embraidery Sat 06 Sep 2025 08:39PM UTC
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