Chapter Text
———
“You can’t just let me tell you what to do all the time,” Paul says, watching as Feyd approaches with a mug of shitty coffee that Paul had demanded in his hand. He knows it's shitty because he’s been drinking it for two days. In this motel. In this bed. Feyd slumps down on the bed next to Paul, kissing his bare shoulder and handing him the mug.
“Why?” Feyd asks, shoving his face under Paul’s arm, pressing his nose to his pit. Paul squirms. He doesn’t smell good. He’s sweaty. He smells like sex. He takes a sip of the coffee, face warm.
Why?
“I could hurt you,” Paul lands on.
“That’s okay, I like it.”
You can’t just—
“Not like that,” Paul says, trying to get him to understand. “I mean I could actually hurt you.”
I don’t want to hurt you.
Feyd contemplates this for a few moments.
“I trust you,” he sighs against Paul’s skin.
That makes one of us.
———