Somewhere nearby, someone was shouting, but it barely registered, and had nothing to do with the crush of their mouths and the strain of their bodies and the ardor that lit through him like a tempest.
He pulled the belt loose and was working on the fly when he realized, dimly, that the shouting was close and seemed to be directed at them.
No, at him, in particular.
He tore his mouth away and whipped his head around to look down the row between tanks toward the source of the shouting. A man standing there with a gun.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-10-08 07:51 pm (UTC)He pulled the belt loose and was working on the fly when he realized, dimly, that the shouting was close and seemed to be directed at them.
No, at him, in particular.
He tore his mouth away and whipped his head around to look down the row between tanks toward the source of the shouting. A man standing there with a gun.
Aryol shook, breathing hard, entirely pissed off.
"Christ, this isn't a party," he snarled.