A Book Of Bullshit I Make Instead Of Sleeping Oops

Lancer Doesn't Rape Edge But Some Sort Of Fluffy Shit But They Kiss???

"How does your Protagonist react to being cornered? Write a scene where they find themselves trapped with nowhere to run."

Cornered.

Edge suppresses a growl, he only has one move left. He knows the rival mafia member's name, Lancer.

He whirls around, tears of shame glistening in his eyes without his knowledge. Faking a sweet, seductive voice, he offers up his broken, beaten body.

"Take me~" He trails his fingers down Lancer's chest, looking up at him with a look of submission. "...Daddy~"

He braces himself for what always happens in these situations. As scarred as he is, he's still beautiful, still a stunning, sexy creature. He waits for the bruising grip on his wrists, the impact of being shoved against the wall, the shame and agony of being fucked against some wall by so many different men like some goddamn whore, just to distract them.

The warmth of a hand on his cheek and gentle fingers brushing away his tears scares him more than anything he's ever experienced.

The betraying tear cracks his composure, and he breaks out into full on sobbing. He willingly falls into the other man's embrace, drowning in that same soothing warmth he'd only experienced with his siblings.

He'd forgotten what love felt like.

He moans softly as Lancer's hand runs up and down his spine, melting away all his training to distrust the rival mafia.

He feels so tired all of a sudden, as if all these years of being uptight and professional, cold and unfeeling, have finally caught up to him.

He slumps in Lancer's arms, and the blond takes his weight, stroking his hair. He lets tears roll down his cheeks, landing on Lancer's shoulder.

He doesn't know what makes him do it, but he reaches up, slamming his lips against Lancer's.

The blond is clearly surprised, but kisses back gently, one arm around the ginger's waist, the other hand tangled in his hair.

"K-kiss me harder~" he begs, arms looped around Lancer's neck. He opens his mouth slightly, inviting tongue. He moans as the blond's warm, wet muscle slips through his lips. Shivers run down his spine, Lancer's kiss makes him feel more alive than he's felt in years.

He kisses the man desperately, searching for something to hold onto and bite down on, something to be his and his alone.

He wants Lancer.

He hasn't wanted- needed something so badly in so long...

Lancer pulls away, saliva still bridging their lips.

"Why are you such a good kisser?" Edge blurts. "Why..." his voice breaks, "...why are your lips so... like home...?"

Lancer smiles sadly. "I remember your first kiss."

And suddenly, so does Edge, all those years back before he was kidnapped from his family. Out of curiosity, he'd kissed his best friend.

He swore he'd know those lips anywhere, were he to taste them again.

And so he does.