Charon was still asleep when Knox awoke. It rarely happened. He grinned to himself, triumphant that he caught this rare sight. For the first time, he was convinced that his bodyguard actually fell asleep. Usually, Knox would wake and they'd end up staring at each other for what? Hours? Till Knox wondered what the fuck he was doing trying to stare down a killing machine and then he'd finally wake up and accepted the bottle of purified water Charon slid to him. Now, Charon slept with his mouth slightly open, a rough, raspy breath passing through his broken lips. Knox couldn't tell if he was even relaxed but decided he should be since he was so absolutely devoid of expressions… well, more so than he usually was. It was interesting. Charon resembled so much like a decomposed corpse right now, yet never more alive. He was breathing heavily through his open mouth and grumbling things at times. Nightmares? He seemed to be in battle. You like that you bastard? Fuck. It was… endearing.
Knox trailed a finger over the torn flesh, naming the muscles underneath his pointer. A smirk made its way to his lips and Knox dared a touch on his wrist. Charon's fingers twitched. Glancing up at the sleeping face, Knox brushed his knuckles over Charon's, trying to see if that action would spur anything. Nothing. Charon felt like sandpaper. The smirk on his face widened and he dipped his fingers in between Charon's spread ones, not really touching but close enough to feel the heat exuding from them. He anchored the fingers there before leaning over the supine body to stare at the face. How could you tell if a ghoul was good-looking or not? Were there measures of gorgeousness in ghouls? Like bonus points if the nose was still attached to the face? Charon lost those bonus points already. And his lips… Knox couldn't figure out where they used to be, where they began, where they ended. And eyelids… There was even cracked skin on there. Knox stared down at his bodyguard for some time, feeling the threadbare shirt Charon wore shift against skin at every breath. Charon was a furnace.
Knox couldn't explain how the next moments happened. He just found himself on his back, breathless, a sharp blade digging the side of his neck while a rough palm closed around his throat. By reflex, Knox's own fingers had grabbed his assailant's wrist and the grip tightened around him. He fisted the threadbare shirt with his other hand. Knox felt the tip of the blade enter the skin, as the fingers shivered around his neck. He shivered himself at the sensation. He gazed up at his bodyguard whose pale eyes were wild as they tried to focus on him. Well, fuck. Charon looked really badass then, with scary crazy wild eyes and the perfect teeth showing and hands holding him down, almost choking him. Heh. He almost resembled a feral. His knees on either side trapped Knox onto the floor. As Knox continued staring up, he finally saw a spark of recognition in Charon's face. The pale eyes widened.
"Are you gonna kill me now?" Knox finally asked in harsh whisper. Charon took his fingers off his employer muttering what sounded like an apology. The knife exited the wound as well and Knox let out a soft hiss at the pinprick of blistering heat on his neck. He felt blood trickle down his neck onto the floor. Well, actually this was embarrassing. To be caught red-handed while trying to feel up your own bodyguard was embarrassing. Knox mentally corrected himself that he wasn't attempting to feel Charon up. He was merely examining.
Charon was still straddling him as he leaned over his employer, making Knox dig fingers into his bodyguard's arm at the sudden action. They both froze. Maybe this was what Winthrop sometimes meant when he said they were 'too efficient at their jobs'. It suddenly got too hot in the room. Knox relaxed his grip, feeling the smooth roughness of broken skin and the flexing of muscles under his hand. The triceps, at the back of the humerus, together with the biceps. He revelled in the rippling of muscles as he gently let his hands travel to the shoulder where he made about to push Charon but didn't. Knox considered placing a palm against his bodyguard's chest to satisfy his unfathomable need to feel a heart beating against his palm. He didn't move, just took a deep breath. The coarse pad of a thumb rubbed against the wound on his neck and Knox hissed at the touch. His eyes darted up to his bodyguard's.
"I apologise for –"
"I shouldn't have startled you like that," Knox interrupted, his voice sounding hoarse. "Sorry, man. You're just…so… tempting sometimes." There was a frisson in the air and Knox felt Charon's shift in emotions through the fingers he placed on the wound. Knox swallowed a moan.
"Boss –"
"It's Knox."
"What can I do for you?" Charon stared down at him in an expression that was hard to read, but there was a glint of danger there. Knox's instincts told him that much. "How do you want me?"
"Alive," Knox whispered. He averted his eyes from the gaze and let his hands slide off the warmth that was Charon. "Free." He let a smile slip onto his face as he brushed his knuckles against Charon's on the side of his neck. Then he twisted away from his bodyguard. His hands only stopped shaking when he took the first inhale from a lighted stick.