Convalescence (MxM)

The Faces of Hesitation (7)

•Spicy Content + •TW•

It had been a few days since Ammon left, having gotten a call and leaving his two mates behind. He was at one of his houses, thankfully the one closest to their cabin. The job he was called for was an easy one, a pharmaceuticals drop off.

He finished it simply enough, his knuckles bruised and bleeding with a smile on his face as he walked to his car, ready to leave. The job was a greater distance than he'd prefer, hence why he was only just now preparing to return to them.

He didn't take any time to properly clean his wounds, wrapping them loosely in bandages before having gotten into his vehicle. The sun was shining in through the windows of his car, the wind blowing through his hair. He didn't have any music playing, preferring the silence as he drove. It was as if he was on a high, having completed another job successfully, knowing exactly how he wanted to celebrate.

The sun was setting as he grew nearer, driving as quickly as he could. Ammon found his excitement strange, but then again, what wasn't there to look forward to? Deimos was just mere seconds away from being wrapped tightly around Ammon's finger, with Blake already eagerly wrapped around Deimos's. He couldn't wait to hear their moans, to watch them squirm under him.

Deimos taught him something all those years ago. After every job, Deimos seemed to have no problem winding down whereas Ammon always got addicted to the high, unable to sober up. Deimos would tell him that, if the adrenaline coursing through him ran too rampant, to eat, drink, fuck or sleep. If Ammon couldn't find a way to come down, he wouldn't be human anymore. Each of these things take your focus and divert it, proving suitable enough to wear him down after such an exhilarating day.

So that's exactly what he planned to do. Ammon doesn't drink and he was too wired for a nap, but he could do with a home cooked meal and seeing how Deimos and Blake would react to his... advances. He felt as though he was looking forward to a fight. He liked it more that way.

Sure, it was nice that Deimos would lay there and take it, but Ammon was itching to force him into place. Deimos seemed to still act so smug, like he had some semblance of control and Ammon would gladly overpower him. Would gladly prove him wrong. Needed to, even.

Ammon gripped the steering wheel tightly, a pointy smile stretching his lips as he leaned into the sensation of the wind flying past him, trying to relax on the open road, the smell of grass and gasoline coating his nose.

***

~the day after Ammon left~
~three days ago~

It took hours for Blake to be able to talk to Deimos after Ammon had finally decided to leave, having gotten a phone call. Blake was baffled that Deimos acted the way he did, allowed Ammon to do the things he did.

Yet, his body enjoyed it, he felt so much pleasure that his mind went numb and all he could do was cave into it. But somehow, he felt no different than how he did when he was in that basement or chained down in Callin's room.

They were no different.

Deimos was the first to break the silence, Blake sitting on the bed with Deimos on his knees and leaning his head into Blake's lap while Blake toyed with Deimos's hair.

"What do you want to do now?" Deimos held Blake's eyes as intently as he could. He knew Blake wasn't happy, he could feel it. But he also knew that he couldn't deny Ammon any longer, he was completely ensnared, caught like a bug in a Venus Flytrap.

Blake smiled softly down to Deimos, having already considered exactly what there was left for him.

"The only thing we can do." He leaned down, placing a soft kiss to Deimos's forehead, cupping his cheek as a single tear fell from his eyes.