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[matadorable]

If you're hearing this message, I am probably not here. Or I am furiously pressing every button I can because I forgot how this thing works. One of the two! Either way, I will get back to you...eventually.

Comments

[matadorable]

[Joaquin's words tickle at his neck, which draws a breathy laugh from Manolo.] The most secret, most macho of techniques. I see...

[medalsome]

Def... definite...

[He dozes off before he can quite finish whatever thought he was trying to convey.]

[matadorable]

[Joaquin's slow, steady breathing combined with the warmth and security found in his arms start to make Manolo's eyelids grow heavy. Soon, he's trying to fight off a yawn of his own, but he begins to drift off to sleep himself...]

[medalsome]

[Joaquin wakes with a jolt sometime later. It's warm, he's way too warm, and there's someone right up against him. Or, more like, he's right up against someone else, his arms thrown about them in a messy tangle.

This is so abnormal Joaquin thinks he's perhaps just dreaming it all, but then his eyes adjust to the darkness, their last candle having burned itself out a while ago. Probably a good thing, as his head is pounding a bit from all the alcohol drying out his system. God, why did he drink so much...?

Finally, he looks down. It's Manolo.

That's both relieving and distressing for some reason and slowly Joaquin tries to drag himself away. God, what time even is it?]

[matadorable]

[Joaquin's movements are met with a whine from Manolo, who stubbornly digs his fingers into his friend's shirt in a bid to keep him in place. There's no way he's coherent enough to ask questions. He just wants to stay like this for a few more hours...]

[medalsome]

[Joaquin frowns, not sure how to take that. Guilt eats at him when he thinks of how tight Manolo seems to clutch onto him though.

.... fuck this, man. It's way too early for this and he's hungover and sick feeling.

He gives up, closing his eyes as he resettles.]