— The sun was never supposed to be yours // k.s.

                                𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 ✘ 𝕒𝕤𝕜  ✘ 𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤

                                (Disclaimer: Can be highly triggering and nsfw.                                 Also. all these parts of Josh are not different versions                                           of him but simply just to show that he has many sides                                           to him)

Lover Meet Husband | Josh + Sal

Maybe it was superficial but Sal hated the idea of being ugly, and really, there was no other way to describe the bruise that covered his lower jaw and cheek. It had gone from a dark purplish black color to edged in green during the last few days and experience told him that the putrid yellowish color that would come later would be even uglier to look at. At least the cut on his lip had started to heal. 

His sister had let out a stream of curses in both English and Spanish when she’d seen him and his tia had spoken in the soft, controlled voice she reserved for employees whose productivity levels needed a bit more coaxing. He’d tried to avoid both reactions entirely but attempting to hide the encounter from either woman would have only resulted in a worse time for him. At any other time, this entire thing would have been borderline hilarious what with their telenovela worthy reactions and his monstrosity of a face. He’d tried to point out the humor in all of it (that he’d been attacked by a stranger who knew something of his family’s past while attempting to spend a quiet night alone in his apartment… what were the odds) but the joke had fallen flat for both women. 

He was pretty sure that, within a few days or so, he would be good as new and the experience would be infinitely funnier but until then he was determined to remain hidden from the world. Which meant rescheduling Josh’s introduction to the wonder that was Dick Grayson. Again. Sal wasn’t entirely sure how this event had come to be. It had started as something of a joke when they’d first met and soon grown into a terribly planned non-date. Now that it looked like it would actually take place, though, they’d be forced to reschedule. All on account of a random guy who’d wanted to be acquainted with Sal’s face in a unique way. Without giving it much more thought, Sal pulled out his phone and typed the words: can’t do today, I’m ugly. you’ll meet the husband some other day.

Quick. Easy. Cancelled.

Joshua was a master at dates. At dates and what usually came after them. He made his money with both, with fancy restaurants, movies, sweet words and compliments. He knew what type of person enjoyed what treatment and what location. He was an expert, one of the best in the city he believed.

But... this wasn’t a date. It was a non-date. At a comic store. And honestly a few months ago he’d have laughed in the face of anyone saying that he’d look forward to such a meeting. Then again, he’d also have laughed at a person telling him he’d fall in love. So, back to the topic of the non-date... Joshua Bishop was nervous, nervous and excited and entirely lost about what to wear. Googling “what to wear when going to a comic store” hadn’t really helped. Apparently, most people instinctively knew how to be a normal person. Joshua didn’t. Joshua knew how to be someone's dream guy, or how to kill someone. Normal was really not his area of expertise. 

When his phone vibrated and he looked at the message he was relieved for a second, maybe more time for research, but at the same time he was disappointed and... confused. 

And it was true, he loved Sal so much the younger could become Deadpool and he’d still think he was the cutest. Love made blind after all... or allowed someone to see beyond.

the change in joshua’s tone is more than apparent, and leonardo’s shaking fingers still, curling around the bandages. he should not have spoken. that much he knows. he shouldn’t have snapped. leonardo takes a deep breath.                                                        “Josh? Josh…. I’m sorry…”               he turns, reaching out with bloody fingers               moving to catch his wrist. he barely misses.                                                dabbing his nose with tissues, leo ambles                                                back into the living room, hoping to catch                                                his sleeve. “You didn’t deserve that. Josh? God.       I’m sorry– -”                          and he’s dripping on the floor, so he can’t                          stay and apologize. leo lets out a long sigh                          and moves back into the bathroom to tend                          to his injuries. there is a chance to redeem                          himself later. 

the book was again in his hands, but he was not reading. instead, his head was filled with the word he hated so much. the word that was burned and cut into his mind just as much as it was edged into his skin. 

he was still only that, wasn’t he? even for leo... and he had hoped the man was actually seeing him as... more. whatever more was. at least not that word. a word that was not used for people one respected or... one even saw as a full person.

and still... still he wondered if he was even allowed to be upset. after all, it wasn’t wrong, was it? and could he really ignore the man’s need simply because he had spoken the truth?

A sigh falls from his lips, the book placed again beside him, to once again follow leo into the bath.

          “Say... what am I not supposed to know nothing about? Cruel words? Fists? What do you think you hear when you are only 15 when you end up in that business? Most fun are the ones that call you a f*g while forcing you on your knees, that thinking that kicking you, in the end, gives them somehow a discount... and you are still glad that they paid at least half of your price... and you thank them. Because what other option do you have when you must hope for them to return again?”

his voice was now a deep growl, but anger was better than not feeling anything at all.

          “So tell me... what do I know nothing about? Or isn’t it rather YOU who knows nothing?”

and though his words and voice are acid, his hands are gentle as he reached for the artist’s hands, to once again help cleaning and bandaging them.

           he was never one to turn down skilled hands– that’s a lie. he was a picky monster. death could have a worldS draped at his feet, begging to kiss his knuckles && hold on to his thighs while the floor crumbled && only he was left. out of all those rubbing their noses in the dirt, he’d pick a few, only a few. ten out of a quintillion. he didn’t need josh thinking how lucky he could be, how he was special because something so unearthly chose him, no. he would make josh FEEL without knowing, feel loved, feel a rapture that death saved for the few, never the many. 

    ❛ I’m trying– you’re making it difficult. ❜ 

        off with the shirt, the tie, the tank hidden under the rest && off went his pants, leaving the compression shorts, garter-socks && a wordless “your turn” in the form of a smile. 

‘’Allow me to rephrase myself, knock it the fuck off with the ignorant small talk, answer my fuckin’ questions. How’s that? Fuckin’ easier to understand? Good.’‘

In all seriousness, Adam should see someone for the excessive amount of angry he carries on his shoulders. He’s in good shape, physically, but his thoughts were all just a jumbled mess. Because people, such as this fella, only blew his fuses faster and the people, perfect example now, had to deal with the after effects.

‘’Yeah. Happens rarely. Which is why I’m not so willing to just let this fly by, buddy. Hopefully you too can understand my— extreme levels of mistrust and why all this just seems, what’s the fuckin’ word, fishy? Yeah, no, fuckin’ suspicious. I’ve almost gotten fucked over to many times because of shit like this. Undercover cops, secret agents— the list goes on.’’

The hitman’s grip on the weapon grew frigidity, fingers frequently readjusting themselves on the gun. It was evident these kinds of events put him on edge. Made him just that more irritable.

‘’That doesn’t answer my question. That just fuckin’ tells me a little bit about your bosses and yourself. I —’’ he didn’t trust the others word. Leave? Have them be met outside by others? ‘’We take my exit. I hold your weaponry.’’

The more he was ordered to be serious, the less he wanted it to be. And no the gun pointing at him did not really intimidate him. He was good at this job because he had this deeply rooted death wish. He might have a goal before dying, but in the end, he didn’t really care if he died today or tomorrow. By the bullet by someone else, or by his own. Plus then the guy would have fucked up his plan and possibly get caught too. A thought that amused him.

          “If this were truly a trap... do you think I’d be here alone?            Do you really think there wouldn’t have twenty agents and            policemen flooded this room? If I were here to fuck you over            you already would be. But I guess logic is lost on your kind,            huh? The crazy type.”

Joshua shrugged again and then closed his eyes at the man’s next words, so he’d not see how he rolled them.

          “Well whatever.. go pick it up then..." 

And again he was grinning, tilting his head to the side and watching the man. Wondering how he’d pick up all of Joshua’s weapons and at the same time stay focused on the gun pointing at him. Josh even went so far, to slightly kick his own gun towards the other.

          “Come on, we can’t stay all night.”

But really, he just waited for the slightest shift of focus by the man to turn the tables.

                  “ sorry —– yes, i mean. ” marble skin flushes in embarrassment, a gentle smile on his face. “ i um —– don’t get asked out a lot, if you couldn’t already tell. ”

to hear a clear yes makes the man relax, his smile becomes brighter and even warmer.

          "don’t apologize, please...” 

the escort shakes his head. and then he raises a hand, reaches for the other’s but before he was even half way he remembered that this was not one of his usual dates. he was not paid to play boyfriend, to hold hands, and so his hand falls back to his side, and to stop such behavior again, was put into his trouser pocket.

          “i simply prefer clear answers. i... hate the idea of            pressuring someone into something...”

joshua seemed shyer now, glancing at the floor for a moment. such innocence was rare to find in his job(s).

but it is the addition that makes him look up again, brows were furrowed in confusion, disbelief written all over his face.

         “but... you are charming. ridiculously so, that’s why           I’d rather not let you alone...”

of course, deep down there was maybe also the idea that he might get lucky and get another yes from the man (also maybe a yes please and mhmmm yes more); but he knew too many people that didn’t wait for a yes. Or made you say the three little letters against your true will.

          “i am joshua by the way. joshua bishop."

again he smiles while introducing himself, to then let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. he had a weakness for the pure type. but, at the same time, it always made him feel awkward. just a bit, because it reminded him of how impure he himself was.

he sees a few of the men in front of the bar turn towards them. he glares at them for a moment before bringing his attention back to the rabbit and pointing towards the other end of the street.

          “just a small foot walk into that direction. lots            of lights and we can use it to talk...”

                he was never one for dogs but he loved his pup. he loved to impress && death liked to be impressed. he let josh at the clean whites of the shirt, sliding it all off to show all those little marvels; the muscles, the hair, the ink on the base of his collar bone that reads “vincitomnia” – now covered by those excessively wandering, exceedingly skilled hands. samael’s neck started to roll along with his shoulders. ❛ Mmmm..upper back. ❜ he lazily stretched to the rather large bath, easy enough for four– && the steaming water began to run.

              ❛ Don’t be afraid to get into it. Deep tissue, O.K? ❜

                his brow almost instantaneously quirked, a smile growing into a slight smirk. ❛ Oh, I don’t know…you know how much I hate to be counterproductive. ❜ now he’s being coy. ❛ But something tells me you have something more  planned. ❜ his false suspicion didn’t stop those top set of buttons on the vest from becoming undone && falling to the reaper’s seat. nonchalantly rising && gently snatching the leftover wine && poured it into his glass.

                he passed josh && grabbed him by the collar, whisking him away. ❛ I’m a little sore, so you’ll HAVE to help. ❜

          “Me having plans?” 

he placed a hand over his heart.

          “That you think that I might have in insidious plans...” 

there was pure innocent and offended shock on his features. but it fast falls off like a mask, replaced by laughter and eyes focused on the buttons that were opened. A grin formed on his lips as he licked them, his own suit jacket was placed over a chair. 

          “Mhmmm... so how about a bath instead, sir?” 

josh suggested, following just like the good pet he was.

          “More comfortable.. and I can work those sore muscles of yours, mhm, Sir?”

as soon as they stood his hands were placed on the buttons of the man’s shirt to get rid of the annoying cloth as soon as possible. his lips searching for his boss’s neck, pressing against the always cool skin that made him shiver to the core.

          “Mhmmm... so... full-body massage for my hardworking boss?”

he hummed as hands could finally run freely over the muscles. pressing himself just a bit closer as his hands run over his sides, to his back, kneading along it and searching for the knots with well trained fingers.

             ❛ It actually is. ❜ the reaper chuckles. ❛    can you fix my AC? I’d love to see you get dirty for that. ❜ he’s still holding out && hoping the nuclear holocaust can block out the sun for a week or so.

          “Does your AC run with oil?”

He honestly didn’t know one thing about fixing ACs but he didn’t think that one could get dirty fixing one even if one tried. Plus... compared to outside the office was cooler, maybe not as cool as usual though.

          “How about instead of only me getting dirty... we both get            wet in the shower... and maybe a bit dirty too...”

i. in this story you bleed there are fingerprints on places that shouldn’t be harsh bruises from something that should have never happened when you wash yourself you feel like something cracks open

ii. in another story you’re the hunter not the prey you belong to yourself and no one else you don’t want them to touch you you wear yourself as a weapon and you’re not afraid to use it their hands are dirty and they want to rip you to shreds you won’t let that happen not again

iii. in the next story people will tell you that it’s your fault they will say that you wanted it that you provoked it you want to tell them to shut up skin yourself and hand your flesh over tell them they should wear it like the cross that weighs you down show them how hard it is to walk in your steps when you break down bite your teeth no one can stomach to see your tears no one deserves them anyways

iv. in this story you bleed you come home with the scent of gunpowder in your hair you have scrabed knees and hard lines all over your body lick your wounds remember that you’re used to fall down but you’re just as used to stand up again

- catching bodies | r.m

100 days of Oliver Queen | Day 51