Martinet
By Mazarin Stone
Chris watches with careful eyes as Alex hooks a hand around Mahiro’s lower leg and leans his temple against Mahiro’s black-clad knee. The feather-like embellishments on the side of the elaborate mask Mahiro bought for him waver slightly as Mahiro idly drags a finger along the edge of Alex’s cheekbone, Alex leaning into the touch with a sigh. Chris can still feel the ghost of that touch on his own body, the gentle pass of a hand through his curls, and he ruthlessly quashes the surge of jealousy mixed with longing that roils in his gut.
He’s happy for Alex and Mahiro. Really.
“Twenty bucks says Dylan has a new sub by the end of next week,” Adam says, and Chris’s eyes snap to his face. Adam’s eyes are sparkling with mirth and Chris drags himself back to the topic
