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[kiss prompt] Uldren/Jolyon - Fingertips
The whole month’s been rotten ever since Jolyon was assigned to Uldren’s personal detail. At first, Uldren had thought it was a great idea, getting a sniper to round out the team. Jolyon’s a good man, a great marksman, and loyal to boot.
Jolyon doesn’t say much, but he does make passing remarks about how honored he feels, how very grateful, and full of quiet pride — all very correct and typical behavior. Uldren just wishes he could at least return the favor.
Instead, Uldren’s got his eyes fixed on Jolyon’s deft finger gliding over the trigger of his rifle, and the way Jolyon can twirl a long, slender bullet between his fingers before sliding it home into it’s chamber. It’s artful. It’s beautiful. It’s damned sexy.
From a hundred paces away, a Minotaur fizzles out of existence, bullet through its belly.
The way Jolyon presses a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet is more distracting than Uldren cares to admit. He wants that trigger finger on his mouth. He wants to whisper low, “Hush me yourself, Crow.”
“Mluh,” Uldren replies instead, very cleverly, very articulate, while his face heats up into what must be purple.
Jolyon gives him a huh look, probably a look only reserved for buffoons and idiots with huge crushes on their subordinates.
Defeated, Uldren throw up a hand signal instead; kills confirmed. Obviously. The Minotaur, and himself.
Jolyon doesn’t say much, but he does make passing remarks about how honored he feels, how very grateful, and full of quiet pride — all very correct and typical behavior. Uldren just wishes he could at least return the favor.
Instead, Uldren’s got his eyes fixed on Jolyon’s deft finger gliding over the trigger of his rifle, and the way Jolyon can twirl a long, slender bullet between his fingers before sliding it home into it’s chamber. It’s artful. It’s beautiful. It’s damned sexy.
From a hundred paces away, a Minotaur fizzles out of existence, bullet through its belly.
The way Jolyon presses a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet is more distracting than Uldren cares to admit. He wants that trigger finger on his mouth. He wants to whisper low, “Hush me yourself, Crow.”
“Mluh,” Uldren replies instead, very cleverly, very articulate, while his face heats up into what must be purple.
Jolyon gives him a huh look, probably a look only reserved for buffoons and idiots with huge crushes on their subordinates.
Defeated, Uldren throw up a hand signal instead; kills confirmed. Obviously. The Minotaur, and himself.
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(Anonymous) 2020-11-26 07:18 am (UTC)(link)