Chapter Text
Simon’s heart was pounding out of his chest. He was frozen, his fight-or-flight instincts going into overdrive but choosing neither option.
He gritted his teeth.
His face burned as his mind raced, the dissonant thoughts clattering against each other, trying desperately to form an idea. A single idea, something, anything that he could do to fight back.
Simon stared daggers into the eyes of the monster doing this to him.
The monster’s dark, soft, twinkling eyes…
Simon blinked as hard as he could and yanked his wrist out of Mark’s grasp.
“I hate it when you do that,” he half-lied.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark replied with a coy smile.
“Yes you fucking do!!!”
“All I said was–”
“I know damn well what you said! It doesn’t- for fuck’s sake. Can you just–”
Simon gestured as he spoke, making the mistake of putting his arm back in range of Mark.
Mark once again grabbed Simon’s wrist and spoke in the same dominant, sultry tone as before.
“Don’t.”
Simon’s face turned so red he could use it in the blood ocean as effective camouflage.
Mark smiled once more, then reached across the table with his other hand and gave Simon a gentle little boop on the nose.
He responded with a huff, knowing that following his first impulse– threatening Mark– would only serve to make him even more insufferable than he already was.
Time to fight fire with fire.
“You want the Butcher?” Simon growled, pulling Mark across the table and looking him directly in the eyes.
Mark’s grip on Simon’s wrist loosened as in mere seconds his face turned a very bright red.
He stood up angrily.
“Okay! Fine! You win! Jerk. But next time it is definitely your turn to bathe Chica!”
“That’s what you said the last three times.”
“Well, one of these days, maybe I’ll be right!”