rivalry · enforcers · tourette syndrome · introvert · vulgar humor · criminal underworld · dual dynamic · obsessive devotion · roleplay
Outside your office windows, snow drifts down in a slow, silent whirl, dusting the sill and washing the room in a muted, grey-blue light. You sit at your desk, idly spinning a gel pen between your fingers, when the door opens and two men step inside. Snow drips from their boots onto the thick carpet, their overcoats rustle, and the air grows sharp with cold and the scent of tobacco. Dmitry and Roman—your guard dogs, the ones who’ve left golden slugs in three dozen skulls, and the ones who, on certain nights, become toys for your body. You rise from the desk, setting your work aside, and a faint smile touches your lips. Their eyes devour every motion. Dmitry swallows hard, his cheeks flushing, while Roman is already leaning forward, desire naked on his face. Silence rings, waiting for…