Title: Melon and Clam
Summary: Done as a request. Woof and Ghoul get to have brunch, alone, in a tiny apartment. Slash.
Disclaimer: I don't make money writing this and own no mentioned characters.
Warning: High 'T' on accounts of hinting and innuendo.
Dedication: Written for Please Guest, who reviewed Bone Fracture and asked for this.
-:-
A fair request should be followed by the deed in silence.
-Dante Alighieri.
He has a habit of chewing on tobacco straight from the torn white paper of a cigarette (stolen or gotten from Delia who smoked like chimney and was forced to sometimes buy them for Woof because he couldn't go into a gas station or minimart without getting screamed at or identified) that Ghoul has never been able to make him stop. Woof, perhaps, was Catholic, which was why when they passed by the old church made of layers and layers of brick with four stone gargoyles (one for each direction as the crow flies) sitting on the roof in warning, the splicer would pause in his fast steps and just walk, head bowed as if in shame. The hyena-man sometimes laid flat on the mattress of their shared bed (bed, more like a double sized mattress with about fifty-seven worn blankets positioned so that they sat in a nest structure before having sex; easy to pull it over themselves when they were done and got cold) so Ghoul could perch on his chest and just lay on top of him before they even bothered trying to makeout quietly, so as not to alert the other Jokerz they were in their room.
These were many of the things Ghoul found himself, unexpectedly, loving about Woof. Quietly and without reason.
And, now, in the kitchen of the building they were forced to pay rent for (God bless Chucko for having friends who knew friends after they had all escaped jail and prison respectively) so they wouldn't get caught squatting in abandoned building by foot patrol like suckers, Ghoul was glad to amuse himself by observing another of Woof's little quirks and habits.
Everyone was out (Chucko was off headhunting for someone to replace Bonk as their muscle—probably he'd try Top Hat or Scab next, considering the week before he'd tried with the Splicers of Cuvier and been rejected down hard with scratches and bites and the need to go to a dealer that carried snake antivenom—of the group; Delia had gone off that morning [Ghoul was bisexual, so he could very much appreciate the tiny blonde stepping out of their door in faded jeans that lurched around her hips because she was skinny as an anorexic, top done up in her bra and a see-through black training top] while puffing a cigarette stating that she was going to look for somewhere that would be a good hit, which mostly translated in Delia-speak as "I'm going to party and then maybe do some work" on a good day; and Deidre [who in their downtime was actually the nicest out of all of them and, as such, quite boring when not falling over herself] had gone off carrying a hobo's knapsack of dirty laundry over her shoulder, liquid detergent in one hand and a book [not electronic, but paper] titled 'Old Possum's of Practical Cats' while her music player blasted, '…Onto the next thing, I'm searching for something that's missing…')and Woof had decided to make them a late breakfast—or early brunch—of his personal specialty.
Melons and clams. Actually, melons cut open and into various sizes with Woof's own claws, spread inside the largest bowl they had in the apartment like an egg sack and then filled partially with water while Ghoul opened up the bag of fresh clams one of the girls had bought the evening before, his long fingers cracking the shells open easily and setting them in a row as Woof also added little snowy pinches of sugar to the melon water.
Once the water was settled and the melon pieces absorbed the sugar, Woof took initiative and picked up a piece about the size of his thumb. He licked the tip of it almost (and Ghoul quivered to think) sensually, before putting it before Ghoul's lips and grinning sharp-sharp-sharp teeth when Ghoul opened up and accepted the morsel; Woof's thumb rested on Ghoul's lower lip and his pointer finger stayed inside the blonde's mouth when it closed and swallowed the fruit. Ghoul's tongue felt especially nice when the tip brushed Woof's skin.
The point of eating the clams was not actually to eat the clams (no, no , no—that sort of thing tasted disgusting when added with sugar, especially when added to the fact that Woof's tastebuds were super sensitive…and that clams were seafood and naturally salty by default) but to smell them after a display of seduction such as that just performed in the tiny kitchen that had been recently clean and had nothing sharp sticking out of any corner that could put a damper on certain activities that the splicers (any splicer—any at all) were all very good at.
Ghoul smiled, cheeky, at his best-friend (boyfriend) as he allowed his finger to leave his lips with a wet popping sound and picked up a piece of the fruit from the bowl that was much large and would fit perfectly into the shape of Woof's, extra long and always quite slick, tongue.
Usually, if they calculated it right, Chucko wouldn't be back until about noon (to watch the football game he'd made a sucker's bet on, according to Ghoul, and watch his hopes for easy money go down the drain because of the lead quarterback's obvious cocaine addiction that would doubtlessly lead to Chucko's favored team's total loss; as well as the loss of what the fat man had hoped would be the collection of good beer money), Delia wouldn't be back until something like two in the morning (that girl was shameless and had low standards so there was a good chance that while the two of them had brunch and flirted obviously, she was in the middle of ripping open a condom in a back alley after snorting a line of some new synthetic drug off the stomach of another of the Jokerz from a rival gang; if the two boys were lucky)and Deidre wouldn't be back until all her laundry was done and she finished her book of poetry—as well as the nap she couldn't leave a Laundromat without taking; the thrumming of washing machines were like a lullaby to that girl (about three hours for clothes plus two for the nap), meaning that they had four hours of frivolous "Them" time.
Ghoul grinned at Woof as he swallowed the offered melon easily; long tongue leaving a saliva trail from Ghoul's wrist to the tips of his fingers; the bulge of the fruit in his throat quite the display before disappearing.