@sallywally asked you: [ lit ] your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine.
non-sexual acts of dominance // accepting
He doesn’t indulge in cigarettes too often. They’re normally NOT his go-to for when he’s feeling shitty, so he tends to stay leaning towards alcohol more often than not. But, recently he has just been CRAVING a cig.
Now if only his DAMN LIGHTER worked.
He tries a few more times, each time the lighter SPARKING, but not generating a flame at all. Must be out of juice. Still, Mortimer huffs and closes the lighter. He stuffs it back into his pocket, teeth biting SHARPLY into the end of the cigarette and tasting the bit of tobacco on the tip of his tongue. He stands outside, gnawing on the end of the cigarette for about five minutes before a hand moves into view.
A hand sporting a small FLAME.
Plucking the cigarette from his lips, Mortimer turns to look down at the other that had graciously lit the end of his cigarette for him. There was something up with their FACE, but Mortimer wasn’t going to say anything bad about it. Looked like a prosthetic.
“Thanks.”
