service

boneyarts:

“Lift your head up, Reyes.”

Dark eyes close–in preparation, to hide his shame–and he obeys his captain’s order, tilting his chin up into the hand that settles into the dark curls of his hair. Almost immediately, calloused fingers reeking of gunpowder nudge at his lips, and when he obediently parts them all he earns is the tang of charcoal against his tongue, his captain’s snicker.

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oh noooo *whisper* that poor boooooyyyyyy *reads it a fifth and sixth time*

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