So maybe Matt signed up for this, but Foggy sure didn't — this thing that's eating his friend alive. Matt's back is to the wall, and Foggy is very very close, daring Matt to hit him maybe or wanting the scene to dissolve into something else — into Matt's arm snaked through his, maybe. Something from before.
**
Matt's just there to pick up his things, and Foggy's about ready to wrap their collaboration up for good. Things go a little sideways for both of them.
They haven't really talked about what's going on between them, except this morning while Jiang Cheng was eating breakfast and Wei Wuxian was lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes, Wei Wuxian said, "Are you going to be weird about it if I hold your hand in front of our friends?"
Jiang Cheng chewed his youtiao.
"Just let me know," Wei Wuxian said. "It's chill."
Oh, Jiang Cheng knew very well that it was not chill. But he wasn't like Wei Wuxian; he couldn't just do<…
They haven't really talked about what's going on between them, except this morning while Jiang Cheng was eating breakfast and Wei Wuxian was lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes, Wei Wuxian said, "Are you going to be weird about it if I hold your hand in front of our friends?"
Jiang Cheng chewed his youtiao.
"Just let me know," Wei Wuxian said. "It's chill."
Oh, Jiang Cheng knew very well that it was not chill. But he wasn't like Wei Wuxian; he couldn't just do things like that, like it was nothing. Wei Wuxian could name his sword—gleaming now on the rack above his head—Suibian, he could do whatever he wanted. He got all the curses and the blessings of being always inside and outside the Jiangs, and Jiang Cheng got everything else.
"You can hold my hand," Jiang Cheng said after he swallowed, feeling like he'd just walked over a bed of hot coals.
If he cannot ask, if he cannot even bring himself to, to say, I want this of you, then how can he expect Sui Zhou to answer? Sui Zhou is a man of fewer words than he is motions, but talking is an act that most often transcends tactility in its clarity.
The world hasn't ended, and Raleigh's pretty sure he's glad. That doesn't mean he's happy about the PPDC wanting them back.
No inch of his bared skin is a revelation to Tang Fan, but stripping before him still feels like an unveiling, marital. A deification of the profane.
Jeff's used to playing with Richie; they've done it since they were 17. He signs a contract with Philly thinking he'll win a Cup there, with Richie. Then they're traded away from each other - and it turns out, that's just the beginning. The sweep, the trade, the SECOND trade, and what happens after.
Young Feyd is accustomed to being wanted. Piter is profoundly uninterested.
His secrets were collateral. They were a contract, a promise that he would not go back on his word. Her flesh, his soul: when she knew things that not even the King knew, things that could ruin him, they became equal.
Diarmuid and the mute make a bed in the wilderness.
May tries not to think about everything Jasmine does for her.