Russian Roulette

[silberfuchs]

[How did Jet get him to agree to this?

Here they are, seated on the bed with the lights down low, both shirtless, and Jet with Albert's gun hand between his fingers as if it's something reverent rather than abhorrent. The effect is confusing to the German; that hand is death, that hand is everything he still despises about himself and can't let go of about Black Ghost, and here's Jet with those long white fingers caressing the metal, fascinated by it.

He'd said it would be good for him. That it's really not such a terrible thing if he has a weapon because he uses it to protect them.

But really, how did Jet talk him into this?

Albert just watches, morbidly transfixed.]

Comments

[silberfuchs]

[Albert holds his breath as Jet pulls out, releasing it in a small sigh with a lazy kiss now that they're again vertical and in a comfortable tangle of limbs.]

I'm not sure I would mind if even if you did. It'd be a badge of pride.

[A small smile plays across his lips and he presses them gently to Jet's as his eyes drop closed, shifting to get more comfortable and breathing a small sigh of contentment. He may be utterly spent both physically and emotionally, but there's a certain glow of warmth to it.]

[metalicarus]

[Jet smiled into the kiss and curled more around the warm German as he settled. Absently, his hand traced along Albert's neck and shoulders.]

Well maybe I'll have to do that next time.

[silberfuchs]

[There's a quiet rumble from Albert that could have been an affirmative word but just as easily could have been an unintelligible grunt. He cuddles a little further into Jet and a moment later he's breathing softly and evenly against that warm, pale skin, dead asleep.]