( @revivedrust )
He’d been hoping the dragon would be here.
‘The dragon’ was too vague at this point - he’d had a lapful of three of them the last time he’d stepped foot into this club. He’d been hoping to findJensen - tonight he required some specifics. And not just for between-the-sheets business.
“Stranger’s not a word I would use between us,” he teased as he sauntered forward, easily invading personal space as he slipped in next to Jensen. Cold fingers along the other’s man’s jawline with a purr, tempted to nip at the flesh and cause some steamy trouble. Merle lofted Jensen’s chin with a sound that bordered on pained. He was restraining himself. “That face kills me. Not here to play sadly. Not yet. Can you get away for a moment? Help me out?”
The night spent with Artsie, Ras, and Merle had been more than enjoyable. He was happy to see Andraste living life -- being human. Even, if that was a funny thought, given that none of them were human. Not even Rassie’s Merle.
Jensen was leaned against the bar in Artsie’s club. He always stayed close with her. They had been through a lot, which solidified their connection centuries ago.
There was a smirk on the dragon’s face when Merle found his way back to the club, eyes finding the other’s when his head was tilted upwards. Jensen was about to smart off, but the words that followed alarmed him a little. “Is Andraste okay? Are you?” He asked, leaving his drink on the bar then. “We can go upstairs and talk.”
