[ sometimes you look at someone you care for and you dig your fingers into the wounds between their bones and sinew, and they know that you can't help yourself because you don't know what affection feels like without pain, without prices, without cost. he breathes out soft as Dante slots himself in where he goes, knees resting on the other man's hips as he hands come to grab his face, pulling Wolfwood into his space as they come together

and Wolfwood is terribly proud of himself that he doesn't even feeling the starting twitch of wanting to dig the burning tip of his cigarette into Dante's wrist to make him let go. baby steps, little pieces of progress. ]

C'mon, you know that the weakest guy in the gang's the one who gets left holding the bag if the job goes to shit. [ whether he means that in a proverbial or a literal sense can stay up in the air--Wolfwood maybe an enhanced human, but he knows he's on the backfoot between an angelic alien and a devil (hunter). ] But. I can at least believe you until you show me I can't.

[ it's such an act of faith from Wolfwood's part as he leans into the kiss, takes the little sting of Dante asserting the points of his teeth over Wolfwood's lip, breathing fragments of cigarette smoke into the other man's mouth as he brings his arms up to loop around Dante's neck. ]

You're as bad at the other one with that best in show shit. Your favorite pastime is teasing me, don't change the answer just to look good. [ he says, donking their foreheads together lightly. ] Nobody in this world, the next, or the one I came from can pull off gold everyday, big guy. Don't burn yourself down trying. Just pat me on the head and promise it'll be better so if you need a day off bein' the impossible standard, eh?