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Ace doesn’t have a license. Too scared to get one. Too sure he’s gonna die in a wreck every second he’s behind the wheel. So he walks most places, not that he ends up any less scared that way.
If he’s not walking, he’s having Levi drive him around. Thing is, Levi’s car is god awful fucking ugly. A gaudy thing, the outside a sparkly, rich purple. The inside wasn’t much better, but at least it was comfy. Then again, it reeked of cigarette smoke. Because Levi was a nasty son of a bitch.
Ace knew what brand he smoked so if he saw a pack out in the open he knew to chuck in the fucking garbage. Levi didn’t know he did that, and Ace sure as shit wasn’t gonna tell him.
Levi takes out a hot pink pack of condensed death. Goes to light it, but Ace gets to his lighter first. Nearly chucks it out the window, but Levi would kill him.
“Fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Levi blinks, his cig still hanging out of his mouth, “Smoking.”
“You promised you’d quit.”
Levi doesn’t look guilty. Ace doesn’t expect him to. “As long as you kept me preoccupied,” Levi says slowly. If he was anyone else, Ace would call him a condescending prick. “That was our deal.”
Might not be condescending, but he sure was a fucking prick. Ace flicks the lighter over his shoulder, hopes it gets lost back there. “Preoccupied, huh?”
Ace takes off his seatbelt.
Levi watches him like a hawk watches rabbits.
He climbs over the console, plants his knees on either side of Levi’s thighs. Settles, shifts until he’s comfortable, plucks the cig out of Levi’s mouth. Flicks that into the backseat too.
Levi looks bored. He wants him to work for his attention. Asshole.
Ace loops his arms around Levi’s neck.
Levi’s hands settle on his waist. It’s a mean grip, a possessive grip. The kind that leaves finger shaped bruises. Maybe he should mind. He doesn’t.
Levi holds him like someone wants to steal him. Like he’d kill anyone that tried. An absurd fucking idea if Ace has ever heard one. But a nice idea all the same.
Levi leans in, he doesn’t reek of smoke so Ace lets him. He’s tried to get cute before. But he always smells like a fucking terminal illness, so Ace always tells him to fuck off.
That might be why he agreed to quit, not that he’s taking it seriously. Almost sweet, but not quite. That’s how he likes Levi, though. If he’s too sweet it feels fake, makes Ace sick.
Levi tightens his grip, like leaving bruises is the point. “I’m not feeling very preoccupied.”
“Your hands are busy, aren’t they?”
“But not my mouth.”
“Sucks to be you then, doesn’t it?”
Ace tilts his head. An invitation.
Levi accepts it. Dives down. Catches the rabbit in his beak.
He starts slow. Tests the waters. Expects a bite or a scream but gets neither. Ace pushes in close, digs half his fingers into Levi’s nape. He feels his heart thunder, feels his chest ache. It’s so loud Levi must be able to hear it too.
Teeth catch his lip. He yelps, scowls, “Ow! Bitch!”
Levi’s brows furrow. Goes to apologize, but Ace doesn’t want it.
He knocks their heads together. Was trying to kiss him, shut him up the fun way, but missed. His head is swimming, like he’s high on something. “I didn’t say stop.”
“But I hurt you.”
Ace has been hurt worse. “Did I say I gave a shit?”
“You’re bleeding.”
What?
Ace touches his bottom lip. Feels something soak into the fabric of his glove. “Oh, shit.”
Is it bad he still doesn’t give a fuck? Probably.
Levi doesn’t blink. The rest of Ace’s face doesn’t exist to him. Just the blood dripping down his chin. Raw steak. Fresh meat. The rabbit is leaving a trail everywhere he goes. Ace wonders if he’s about to get eaten.
A smart rabbit would run, bloodtrail be damned. But Ace has never been particularly smart.
Ace smears whatever hasn’t soaked into his gloves across Levi’s lips, "What’re you gonna do about it?"
Levi grabs him by the throat. Lunges. Sucks and laps at Ace’s lip until it refuses to bleed anymore. Ace tastes his blood on Levi’s tongue. It’s bitter, nasty, almost rotten. Like metal. Like Ace. Can’t imagine why Levi would be so obsessed with it.
He keeps biting, but they’re all too frantic, too desperate. He’s going too fast, doesn’t put enough force behind any of them. Doesn’t spill anymore blood, but he wants to.
Levi’s got too much tunnel vision to breathe. Ace can’t either. Too busy getting half-eaten. Maybe he should mind. No, he should definitely mind. Levi wants to rip his face open.
He should mind, but he doesn’t. Been hurt worse, had a whole mouthful of blood. This is nothing. Almost painless. It’s a pain he likes. Because he’s not a very smart rabbit.
“You’re way too into this,” he says. Smug, as if he isn’t the same way.
Levi stills. Blue eyes blacked out by his pupils. “Is that… a problem?”
He ended up smearing even more blood across his face when he dove in like a man starved. Makes him look like a fucking cannibal. He looks dazed, maybe drunk, maybe high. Ace feels like he’s both at once.
Levi looks pained by the fact they’re not making out at this exact moment. It’s not like Ace wants to stop either, he’s just got a habit of opening his mouth when he shouldn’t. He ruins most good things that way.
The smile comes easy, rests even easier. It’s closer to a smirk, something too mean and too nasty to be considered a smile. Ace doesn’t smile often, but he’s in a really good fucking mood right now. “Well, it’s me you’re into, so I’m not gonna complain.”
Levi frowns, “Then why bother opening your mouth at all?”
Ace cuffs him upside the head, “Cuz we’ve got places to be, remember?”
“I don’t care.”
And ain’t that the fucking truth?
“Have fucking at it, then. I don’t give a shit.”