[ wash doesn't move at a leisurely pace, but he is walking, not running, or jogging, long strides at a good clip. like it or not, pietro will have to wait for him, either on the way or at the apartment building, and unless pietro is going to attempt to give him a piggyback ride this is the pace they'll be moving at. catching up with pietro, he reaches for him before he bolts off again, grabbing him by the arm, reeling him in towards his side. to anyone watching, it would be affectionate, maybe a little blatantly possessive, not exactly uncommon for a dominant interacting with a submissive. and none of that is untrue.
but when pietro is pulled in closer, he lets his arm snake around his waist. the movement is smooth and subtle, and as wash's fingers settle against pietro's waist right where some of those faded bruises would have been, there's also the sudden press of cool metal. the point of a knife. there's the second knife he's carrying with him today, apparently had been hidden somewhere near his shoulder, now slid down his sleeve, just using two fingers to control it where the flat of the blade is pressed against his palm and wrist. the point of the knife skims against pietro's skin ever so slightly as his hand settles into place, and while its hard to tell what kind of knife it might be just from that brief contact, there is a different weight to it.
wash never breaks his pace while walking, looks at him, and smiles. he's not making fun of him or teasing him -- it's not a smile pietro has seen on him before, not directed at him. its warm, friendly, and its because they're in public, out on the street, now, and wash is a gifted liar who knows very well how to play things off. ]
Lets talk for a while, Pietro.
[ you had the option of just making your way straight there, but now you're here, and this is what it'll be. a threat and a reward, all tied up in one. ]
no subject
but when pietro is pulled in closer, he lets his arm snake around his waist. the movement is smooth and subtle, and as wash's fingers settle against pietro's waist right where some of those faded bruises would have been, there's also the sudden press of cool metal. the point of a knife. there's the second knife he's carrying with him today, apparently had been hidden somewhere near his shoulder, now slid down his sleeve, just using two fingers to control it where the flat of the blade is pressed against his palm and wrist. the point of the knife skims against pietro's skin ever so slightly as his hand settles into place, and while its hard to tell what kind of knife it might be just from that brief contact, there is a different weight to it.
wash never breaks his pace while walking, looks at him, and smiles. he's not making fun of him or teasing him -- it's not a smile pietro has seen on him before, not directed at him. its warm, friendly, and its because they're in public, out on the street, now, and wash is a gifted liar who knows very well how to play things off. ]
Lets talk for a while, Pietro.
[ you had the option of just making your way straight there, but now you're here, and this is what it'll be. a threat and a reward, all tied up in one. ]
How much do you care about your safety?