love triangle. you get the point.
It’s not that Thomas didn’t see it coming. They were both handsome, tall and muscular and domineering and bloody arrogant. All of his weaknesses and then some; and while one had a soft mouth and stone-chip eyes, the other had a fiery heart and dove-feather fingers.
They were a pair for the ages, and Thomas never stood a chance. It was a coordinated attack when they cornered him in the dining hall, radiating intent like a faulty space heater.
“Hello, Thomas,” one of them murmured, the one with anger in his bones. The one with the devil’s tongue hummed in agreement, eyes falling unabashedly to Thomas’ lips.
God, they weren’t even close to being his intellectual equals. But he’d never shown much sense that way, he supposed.
It took more effort than it should have to pull away. To not to bare his throat and close his eyes, not to let them do what they would with him, not to allow the kind of treacherous weakness that would probably get him in more trouble than he could dig himself out of. The deep breath, heady with cologne, was what almost broke his control.
“Deep apologies, lads. I have to run,” he told them hastily, not taking his eyes off the door opposite him as he said a silent prayer to a God he doesn’t believe in. Thomas fears--for a moment, a cold one--that they won’t let him through.
But they both chuckle and part, allowing him to slip past for the final time. He’s certain that he feels the tractor-beam pull of two pairs of eyes, and he’s not sure how long he can evade it.
Two weeks, as it turns out. He hates himself for it.
