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Gallagher quickly wrapped Sunday’s tie around his hand, giving it a harsh tug that made the latter nearly fall into his knees. Sunday gritted his teeth, trying to look angry and retaliate despite the blush spreading over his cheeks.
“Unhand me, filthy dog,” Sunday hissed, shooting a death stare at the other.
“As you wish, angel,” Gallagher growled playfully, managing to undo the knot around Sunday’s neck and pulling off the man’s tie, “you know you don’t have to put up a time everytime, right?”
“S-Silence,” Sunday stepped away, nearly tripping over his own legs. The halovian clenched his hand, patting his blazer and his shirt to get rid of any wrinkles in his clothes, “what makes you think I even wish to join you in your perversions?”
“The fact that you never complain about it,” Gallagher chuckled lazily, taking another step towards Sunday, “the fact that you never actually asks me to stop… and the fact that just mentioning it gets you all worked up, angel.”
With every step Gallagher walked forward, Sunday took two back. A chill ran down his spine, making the feathers on his wings stay on their end. That damned, filthy and lowly dog… “Nonsense,” he said firmly, trying to stand for his pride as a family leader - or did he want to expose it so Gallagher could belittle it as well? “You-”
“Me? What about me?” Gallagher interrupted, standing right before Sunday and looking down into his face.
“You shoul- mmph!”
Before he could go on with the mean comments that crossed his mind, Gallagher shutted his lips with a deep, somewhat rough kiss, tackling Sunday down with him into the nearby couch.
“G-Gall-mphhm! S-sthophh!”
“You’re too tense, angel,” Gallagher cooed before kissing him again, his hands already latched into Sunday’s waist and his fingers digging and tickling his lower sides, forcing Sunday’s angry smile to bloom into the kiss.
Fighting was useless - and, for some reason, this fact thrilled Sunday to the skies and beyond. He kicked and flailed his hands, protesting and giggling and cursing into their kiss as Gallagher continued the messy, sloppy make out.
This couldn’t even be called a fight for dominance or for control, it was far too one-sided to be considered something like that. Gallagher pretty was massacring Sunday with his twisted(?) affection and, before the family leader could notice, Gallager was taking the spoils from his fights.
First a glove was tossed somewhere over the couch, then the other. Then, before Sunday could even gasp for air, he was stripped from his blazer and his belt was undone.
Trying to kick Gallagher resulted in his shoes being discarded in sequence and his pants lowered to his thighs’ height. He felt light headed, probably from the lack of air in his brain, and a sinful shade of red was already spreading over his cheeks.
This man… How did Gallagher always manage to get him like this?
“Look at this mess, angel,” Gallagher gasped, a proud smile as he looked at his work, making Sunday wonder if he meant the state he was currently in or how his clothes were scattered all around the room. “Let’s try to not make it even worse, yes?”