#IT'S ALMOST 6AM HERE'S YOUR FOOD FDNGDKSFH

[cantuscorvi]

“Dammit… Who told you to hold it like that?” 

Gabriele was standing in front of his bedroom door, coming back from a quick shower after he had been out for the entire afternoon with Raum. The weather was pleasant but quite hot for a man in a suit, and he had needed to refresh himself before handling whatever Raum would want to do for the rest of the evening. Of course, curious like a cat, disobedient like an untrained dog, the blond couldn’t miss the occasion to snoop inside Gabriele’s belongings. When the bodyguard was back, he witnessed with concern the way Raum was playing with one of his butterfly knives. 

“You’re going to cut your pretty face if you keep swinging it that way.” He voiced again, as he knew that Raum should be pretty much aware of his presence by now, but still, he was still behaving like a spoiled kid who could do anything he wanted. Gabriele stepped forward, his gray robe rolled around his waist, a bit of his chest hair exposed, the rest of his body still pretty wet. Yet, it wouldn’t stop him from towering Raum from behind, as he placed his hand right onto his wrist to lower it. 

“Not like that.” Gabriele huffed, before his fingers eventually moved, but only to cup Raum’s arm and guided it differently. “You leave too much space between your chest and their hand, they can easily twist your wrist like that.” He illustrated his words by wrapping his hand strongly around his wrist, forcing Raum into a rather unpleasant position for a few seconds. “A butterfly knife is different from a dagger. It’s light, so you have to see it as the continuity of your finger.” He slid them to place the item correctly into his palm. For a moment, he only mimicked the motion, as he felt himself dangerously pressed against Raum’s back. He was still smelling like the sun of this warm afternoon… 

“It’s not made to stab. It’s made to cut and slice.” He whispered, his brown eyes falling on Raum’s pale features. He offered a carnal smile, the intensity of his irises focused on Raum’s reaction. “You only want to hurt and mutilate. You use it to pour blood and damage the skin. It’s a knife for revenge or petty intentions.” 

@distopea

Whenever he set foot in this room claimed by Gabriele, a strange kind of curiosity gave Raum the urge to poke into his belongings. Sometimes he wondered, what did Gabriele’s life look like before he belonged to the Weiss family? Was there ever something he wished to accomplish — some lifestyle he wanted to lead, an objective that he no longer hoped to complete? Of course, it wasn’t something he would find the answer to stashed in his bodyguard’s accoutrements. However… there was usually something here to capture his imagination regardless.

Although folded and discreet, the sleek black handle of the butterfly knife stood out to Raum like a jewel to a magpie. Blue eyes lit upon the shape of the weapon immediately, and he picked it up without a second thought if the owner would care. Carefully, he flipped it open to expose the silver blade. He knew that if it belonged to Gabriele it wasn’t for show — it would be sharp.

He heard the bodyguard’s voice just as he was giving the knife a few experimental flicks with his wrist. He paused for a moment, glancing into the doorway. His eyes lingered on Gabriele’s face, gradually watching a drop of water sneak it’s way down from his hair to his neck, and— shit, the little exposed section of his chest like that was criminal.

Quickly looking back at the blade in his hand, Raum scoffed.

“Nobody taught me,” he said, twirling the knife a little in his hand, a distraction. Nothing too dangerous — he’d toyed with one of these before, but it wasn’t something he was practiced at either. “In my teens, I spent a lot of time with го́пники. Delinquents. It’s how they would hold it, I suppose.”

You’re going to cut your pretty face if you keep swinging it that way.

Raum merely hummed in response, a smirk curling the corner of his lips as he turned the dual handles of the knife into his palm, holding it steady. While it seemed like he simply brushed off Gabriele’s concerns, rather, he was trying to ignore something else entirely. The way he had felt an odd change in the atmosphere when the other man came into the room; the way that Gabriele so casually calling him pretty made something horribly pleasant curl in his gut. The way that made him want to turn and lodge the blade in the older man’s throat for daring to cause it.

“Then, how would you hold it?” Raum asked, conspicuously neutral, inhaling slowly and concentrating when Gabriele took hold of his wrist. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it before. Whether to mock him, to insult or to charm — these kind of words were meaningless. Forget it.

He certainly did when Gabriele twisted his wrist. Raum flinched with a subdued grunt of discomfort, almost dropping the knife. The hold was only for a few seconds but he could certainly see how it was effective; Raum wasn’t weak by any means, yet disgruntled at how easily a bit of training could change the whole game.

“Tsk. Warn me before you break my damn wrist.” He muttered testily, still strangely hooked at how Gabriele’s hand covered his around the handle. He could perceive that the other man had stepped closer to guide him with it, warmth seeping in where his chest brushed Raum’s back, voice close to his ear. He felt caged in that position, caught between Gabriele and the cabinet where he found the knife, hyper-aware of everywhere he was being touched, how he was spoken to, how he was being looked at.

Gabriele’s attention was suffocating; making the gears turn in Raum’s mind in that forbidden, perfect way. He controlled the situation with that patrimonial tone in his voice, and Raum both loathed and indulged in how it affected him. He wanted to escape that control — no, more than that, he wanted to show off — to flaunt in the face of it.

“Ah, now I understand.” He matched Gabriele’s tone, subtly leaning backwards against his chest. Heat suffused his body, and he could feel the other man’s heart beating, slow and steady. So sure of himself.

“Blood and petty intentions…” He echoed, relaxed in Gabriele’s shadow. “Sounds perfect.” With a little huffed laugh, Raum twisted Gabriele’s wrist with exactly the same move he’d just been shown, wrenching the knife from his grasp. He flicked it open, quickly turning around and pressing the edge of the blade delicately under Gabriele’s jaw.

He tilted his head, daring to catch those dark brown eyes with his own, toying with his earlier thoughts of causing harm for a moment. “Suits me, don’t you think?” Aware he could only keep the bodyguard on the hook for so long, the fingertips of Raum’s free hand lingered on the little exposed area of skin above the edge Gabriele’s robe, the touch openly provocative. He grinned.

“Mm… Then I’ll keep it.” A shove against Gabriele’s chest with his palm, and Raum folded the knife closed. Even just the little space he had created between them already made it feel like he could breathe and think more clearly. He slipped the weapon into his pocket, giving a last glance at the other man before he turned towards the doorway.

“The dinner is in an hour. I came to tell you to hurry up. Not for a lesson.”