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Being pinned to the floor by your arch nemesis probably shouldn't be as hot as it was.
But here Joel was, struggling against the firm body pressed into his, and the cold chains that wrapped around Joel's hands over his head. He tried his best to ignore the warm hand that held Joel's wrists to the ground, but was mostly unsuccessful.
Fuck , why did Steel have to be so bloody attractive?
This would be a lot easier if the sight of the vigilante didn’t make Joel’s cheeks warm and his hands shaky and his heart-
Anyways.
Steel had an unfair advantage over Joel, in that he was everything a bisexual disaster could dream of. The tight black combat wear only accentuated his… everything, and it wasn’t fair .
“Has Flint finally lost his tongue? Talked back one too many times, ay?” And the fuckers voice… smooth and deep, making Joels head spin.
“You wish, those fuckers can’t catch me.”
The weight of what Joel said didn’t hit him until Steel raised one perfect eyebrow at him, glancing at the chains and the way Joel was pinned underneath him.
“You know what I mean, bitch.”
And the corners of Steel's stormy grey eyes crinkled, and Joel knew he was smiling under that mask of his. “I’m the bitch?”
“...yes.”
The bastard didn’t have to sound so amused when he said, “Sure, Flint, sure.”
Joel scowled at him, with the full effect, because Joel wasn’t a bloody coward , he didn’t need a mask.
And then Steel was letting go of Joel's hands, and the weight on Joel’s hips was suddenly gone. Soon after, the chains faded from existence, back to wherever Steel summons them from.
“Why?”
Joel couldn’t make out the tone, but there was something weird in Steel’s voice as he said, “Pretty birds should be able to fly. Can’t do that from a cage.”
“Cunt.”
“Bye Flint, I’ll fight you another night.”
And then Steel was gone, slipping quietly into the night and leaving Joel to fondly shake his head as he picked himself up off the pavement.
Steel was a right bastard.