The pressure went away, but Timothy could still feel the sting of the open wound. It wasn’t bad, but even a paper-cut hurt. His small pull to get free proved useless, so his alternative? Give up. He stood behind Jack’s chair, leaning over the back as the guy sunk down and rested his chin on his head. It let him loop the other arm around and sigh in defeat as he popped the top of the can open. It was a miracle it didn’t fizz out over the top, but he thanked his stars it didn’t. He didn’t want soda all over that fresh bite.
“Is cupholder getting added into my contract now?” Tim mumbled. He watched quietly as he continued to bleed, shifting his hand so it would drip down onto Jack’s clothes. Whoops. Totally an accident as he offered the open soda. “What if that scars huh? We won’t match.”
Jack sighs heavily as the dizziness from lack of caffeine finally sets in. He hums, pleased, at the feel of Tim around him– a small bit of stability where we feels like he could slip out of his chair at any moment, head full of fuzz.
“It was already on there,” He crosses an ankle over the other on his desk, closing his eyes and breathing out with a whoosh. “You should really learn to read the fine print.” He takes a swig of the cool drink, moaning contentedly at his small victory. “And also the, y’know– fine fine print.”
He frowns and rolls his eyes at the new stain on his clothes. He’d gotten really good at getting blood out of them ever since he started dating Nisha, but he takes note of Tim’s little defiance. He shrugs it off for now, and pulls Tim’s hand back to his mouth, licking away at the mess to keep it from dripping on him.
“Then I guess I’ll just have you bite me back, now won’t I?”