malaphar
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Summary
Naib honestly, genuinely can’t tell if he’s trying to induce something or if he’s actually offering for him to see, because so far, his grand impression of Norton is that he’s a pretty weird guy who is possibly a lying hypocrite half of the time. “Interested how?”
“You’re staring. A lot.” And isn’t that a little embarrassing, when all of this started with those incredibly blue eyes (that he’s half sure are contacts) fixed on his every move. Blunt nails drum along the bejeweled buckle of the belt, working under and around the gemstones embedded in it.
Series
- Part 6 of malaphar's comms
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His sharp ears pick up on the shuffling from inside the room long before the door eases open a crack. Lidded eyes glare up at him, startlingly dark without his usual mask. “Didn’t think you’d get here so fast,” comes the inevitable grumble.
“You should know your own craft better than anyone else. May I?” Though Infernal Sin’s words are biting as always, he tames the edge, because it’s clear that something isn’t right.
Series
- Part 5 of malaphar's comms
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Infernal Sin lets go of his head with a sharp gesture and Norton nearly hits his forehead on the arm of the couch, flinching back just in time and catching himself on his forearms instead. The old fabric digs shallow grooves into his skin, leaving behind a mild itch that pales in comparison to the dull pain beginning to spread over his ass. “What, what do you want to hear,” he grits out, laying his cheek down carefully, “an apology? Really?”
“Maybe,” says Infernal Sin, too coy to be honest.
Series
- Part 4 of malaphar's comms
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“Missed me?” he asks, sardonic, and Norton has to resist the overpowering urge to roll his eyes.
“In your dreams, maybe,” he says, and though both of them are usually happy to stay wrapped in their own lies, they also both know that simply isn’t the truth. Infernal Sin cackles, an ugly sound from inside his throat, and reaches down to take Norton by the shoulders.
Series
- Part 3 of malaphar's comms
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Kevin scratched the back of his neck and did his best to offer a bemused smile. Usually, he’d be quick to coax the other person into bed with soft words and touches, but Norton was not like most people. “But I’m here now, ain’t I?”
“Don’t seem the type, do I?” Norton grinned instead of answering, wry and sharp and fleeting. His hat was missing, Kevin realized belatedly, and his hair was tousled into disorganized waves.
Series
- Part 2 of malaphar's comms
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