[ Romance looks doubtful as he shifts his weight to one arm, the other sliding down to cover Mystery’s hand where it presses against his chest. Their fingers lace and he holds them there, anchored over the slow beat of his heart. His head dips, forehead to forehead, his breathing uneven.

He’s not sure how he feels about this.

Confessions, tears, the raw ache of that I love you, and now this, Mystery begging for pain like it’s a penance instead of a kink. Romance’s jealousy is mostly evaporated though some is still simmering, but the idea of actually hurting Mystery? Of punishing him?

It twists something in his gut, and not entirely in a good way.

He tilts his head to brush his nose along Mystery's cheek, then buries it in his hair, voice low and deep and rumbling. ]

Sweetheart...you wanting my teeth in you because you’re turned on is one thing. [ His thumb strokes over the back of Mystery's hand, hips still casually rolling, letting the slick between them smear over his cock, and he exhales harshly against his neck. ]

But hurting you because you think you deserve it...I'm not sure I like that. [ Not that he doesn't want to drag his teeth over Mystery's body, leave marks on him, make sure everyone knows who he belongs to. It's the context of it that's bothering him. ]

I don't like the idea of telling you how I feel, then turning around and hurting you.

[ His eyes flicker honey gold, and he lets go of Mystery's hand in favor of sliding up and taking his jaw, forcing Mystery to look at him. ]

I just told you I love you. Don’t ask me to hurt the person I’d die for.