The sentiment is honestly appreciated, in whatever way Tseng is capable of appreciating something so soft and gentle as concern. Funny how it should end with both of them in a pile on the floor, blood slick between them, breathing ragged and tangled hopelessly.
That elbow to the face is nasty. Tseng knows that it's going to hurt, but something compels him to press his face forward, to get the brunt of the blow right from the thickest part of Rude's arm. From a purely professional standpoint, it's a good idea to keep tabs on his men this way, to gauge their strength and make sure they're in tip top condition when it comes to altercations like these.
The truth of the matter is that he just wants to see how it feels when his teeth explode through his lower lip, immediately swelling them up until they buzz like beestings. It's just as magical as he thought it would be. His vision blurs from the force of the hit and leaves him with a crooked smile on that broken mouth of his, even if Rude is right there under him, throwing in the towel.
"Giving up already?" he asks, blinking hard to restore his vision. All he can see is Rude and that trail of blood trickling down his chin, and maybe it's excitement or exhaustion or something else, but he's ducking his head now before he can think about it, his tongue dragging up that pretty crimson line for just a taste of it. That gets him going with another round of shivers that course up and down his spine, and if he's driving his hips down a little harder, if his limbs are wrapping blindingly tight now, that is the reason why.
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That elbow to the face is nasty. Tseng knows that it's going to hurt, but something compels him to press his face forward, to get the brunt of the blow right from the thickest part of Rude's arm. From a purely professional standpoint, it's a good idea to keep tabs on his men this way, to gauge their strength and make sure they're in tip top condition when it comes to altercations like these.
The truth of the matter is that he just wants to see how it feels when his teeth explode through his lower lip, immediately swelling them up until they buzz like beestings. It's just as magical as he thought it would be. His vision blurs from the force of the hit and leaves him with a crooked smile on that broken mouth of his, even if Rude is right there under him, throwing in the towel.
"Giving up already?" he asks, blinking hard to restore his vision. All he can see is Rude and that trail of blood trickling down his chin, and maybe it's excitement or exhaustion or something else, but he's ducking his head now before he can think about it, his tongue dragging up that pretty crimson line for just a taste of it. That gets him going with another round of shivers that course up and down his spine, and if he's driving his hips down a little harder, if his limbs are wrapping blindingly tight now, that is the reason why.