This might as well happen.

intolerablexsacrifice‌:

~

_{Flint gave an indignant noise of protest in the back of his throat as his arms were immobilized, Hal’s grip on them firm and inescapable. He tried to wrench them free, naturally: it was as futile as the rest of this endeavour, which only made this worse. Gates’ weight on him rose a ridiculous sensation in his stomach, a sort of fuzzy, flipping nervousness that Flint was determined to suppress by fighting.}

_{That plan was put to rest the moment Gates leaned down. The alarm Flint felt was indescribable– he could think of only one reason anyone would put their face this close to his in a moment like this, and his thoughts turned to searing crimson and rushing seafoam in the wake of that idea.} 

_{Hal bumped their fucking foreheads together, because of course he did.} 

_{Flint was fairly certain his soul left his body in the heartbeat it took for it to register, but if nothing else, it was effective: he’d frozen, praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt, or that it could at least be blamed on the exertion of trying to get Gates off. Blinking up at him like a startled animal, the fight was utterly drained from his body. Heat crawled up his throat.}

_{“If you wouldn’t mind,” His voice cracked on the last word, voice jumping in pitch even as his eyes narrowed and his jaw twitched, “I’d like my arms back.”}

The struggling stopped, and for a moment everything seemed so still that it was almost wrong – it took Hal a moment to realize that the tension had nothing to do with the whispers that had quieted in the midst of all this wrestling, but rather everything to do with the somewhat precarious position he’d put the captain into. 

Now, a good man might have – upon the realization of matters – been kind enough to withdraw now that all ends had been achieved. The fight was won, the resistance was gone, they could get up now and talk this out like civilized men and pretend they never noticed that things got a little strange. 

Unfortunately, Hal Gates was not a good man. Maybe he had been once, but whatever he was now – it was as mischievous as the soul that had forged him. 

“I’d say my minding relies rather heavily on what you mean to do with them should I give them back to you. all things considered.” In another circumstance that might have been a rather threatening remark, but considering he hadn’t deigned to cease his headbump it rather put a strange spin on things.