Enjoy!


If there was something out there in the world that Cobra hated most of all—which, to be truthful, was hard to guess because Cobra hated a lot of things—it was not being in control. He hated people making decisions for him, he hated people telling him what to do, and he hated it when his body did things that he couldn't help.

That's why whenever Jellal fucking Fernandes comes within his sight—or hearing, either way—Cobra couldn't help but remember that he hated not being in control. Because for some ludicrous reason, his body does weird things when Cobra knows Jellal is there. Like his stomach feeling all tingly and shit, or that he's heart beat gets quicker, or he's getting all sorts of images of Jellal in his head.

Angel said that he's in love with Jellal, but what the hell does Angel know? Bitch.

And because he knows Jellal does all these weird thing to him, Cobra kind of hated Jellal for it. It didn't matter that Jellal always had that stupid, pretty face, or that horrible blue hair, or that goddamn toned, muscled body—and Cobra will always deny that he thought about these things, because it's none of your fucking business, Racer—because Cobra hated Jellal.

Yep, that's the entire truth, he's not lying whatsoever. Why would Cobra lie anyway? Do these people not know him at all?

"Cobra, Jellal's back! Stop jacking off to him and get out of your tent!" Angel called, and Cobra could hear her smugness, which she didn't bother hiding, knowing her.

"Shut the fuck up, Angel!" Cobra shouted back, trying to rid of the images in his head of Jellal and his stupid blue hair, and his stupid fucking eyes, and his stupid abs—they're not that great anyway—and manages to get out of his tent with some pride intact.

And then he sees Jellal walking towards them, taking his hood down and away from his face. Cobra's heart beat quickened and got that feeling in his stomach once more, and it was bad.

Fucking hell.