In the Golden Triangle

Chapter 25: Choosing Violence

Two Months Later

John blew eraser bits off the page and picked up his pencil. With arcing motions he began shading with a careless hand. His normally hostile face was pensive. Critical eyes scanned the page and picked apart every mistake. As the number racked up he grabbed for the eraser again.

"If you keep erasing there will be nothing left." Hin said from behind him.

John ignored him.

His desk was pressed up against the only window in the small studio apartment. The overhead lights were dim and not ideal for his art, so he utilized the natural sunlight that spilled onto the rickety table he used for a desk. His shoulders were hunched and he was perched cross legged on the stool in a feat of balance that impressed, and terrified Hin.

The apartment was ridiculously small. A tiny efficiency kitchen was against one wall while the bed was against another. There were dorm rooms bigger than this, but for now, it was home.

Hin was sprawled out on the bed with the covers off and his eyes half lidded. He liked to watch John draw.

Sometimes his face would change with varying expressions as he mocked out what he was trying to draw. When he got to a particularly difficult section his shoulders would hunch over and he ended up closer and closer to his page until finally he was able to get through it. These were the things Hin was learning about his lover—and every new revelation was a wonder.

John had been in the apartment alone for three weeks. Communication had been difficult, limited to email that Hin tried to respond to every other day or so. But he was finally on leave, and he had spent the last week ensconced in the apartment with John.

The warmth of the day had him feeling lazy. Instead of drifting off to a nap he sat up and padded over to John. He hugged him from behind and pressed his bare chest to John's back. He gave him a sniff kiss and John twitched, his mouth twisting as he resisted the urge to laugh. Hin discovered that John found sniff kisses to be very ticklish and used this to his advantage. Often.

"Weirdo."

Hin grinned and appreciated the fact that John was wearing a simple white tanktop. His lean arms were exposed, and he ducked his head to pepper kisses down the smooth skin starting at his shoulders.

"Oh my god, who let you be this way?!" John yelled, but Hin could hear the smile behind the words.

"Mmm." Hin said softly, his lips against John's warm skin. "What are you working on?"

"Same panel." He admitted, turning his head so that he could give Hin's cheek a soft kiss before turning back to his work.

Hin glanced at the pages on his desk. He could see a fully-fledged character taking shape. John kept insisting it was shapeless and terrible, but he was overly critical of his work and refused to believe Hin when he told him he thought it was good.

There was a soft laziness to their days that Hin thought might be his actual undoing. He had never considered a life like this--his sun drenched boyfriend telling him about his art with a passion that lit up his eyes. And at night he was wrapped around him with the heat prickling their skin but neither one of them willing to let go.

His orders were still up in the air. There was a very real possibility he would be stationed back at the BPU, or somewhere else. John told him he would be fine, but Hin didn't want to leave him.