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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: R for the implications. Gunkink.
Pairing: El/Sands. Ref. to El/Cucuy and sort-of Chicle/Lorenzo.
Disclaimer: Never mine, always R. Rodriguez's, dammit.
Feedback: Yes, please. Whatever you can spare.
Summary: Sands' judgment in men is not as good as it should be. Gift drabble for permetaform in thanks for the wallpapers.
***
"You know Chicle's been following Lorenzo around? Like…"
Sands laughed, resettling his head on El's hip. "Really. Well, they start early down here, don't they? Anyway, they're about the same age. Mentally. And at least the kid'll learn how to use a gun."
Speaking of, said object slipped its cold tip up under Sands' chin, then laid the barrel across his neck. "I already knew how to use a gun when you sent Cucuy to my village."
Wha-oh, shit. Sands' guts shriveled up to his backbone and he clutched hands in the blankets as El's pistol dragged its way down his front. Way down till it nestled up behind his balls and nudged, ever-so-slightly, inside. "That was definitely not one of my orders."
"Really." Voice black as blindness. "It was a…very unpleasant experience. Even though he said he was honored to…meet me."
"Want a very pleasant experience?" Sands offered, only a little hysterical. Nope. He had a good grip on his nerves. "El?"
The gun hesitated, then stroked back up to Sands' throat and pinned him in place for the ravaging kiss. "All right. This time."
***