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Summary
Hans has been trained in all the arts of combat, but Henry has more practice at tussling in this way, just bare skin against skin and no honorable rules in the fight. He tries to get a grip on Henry's forearms, but his palms slide on sweat-slick muscle. Henry slides easily from the clinch to a headlock. Hans twists his body, fighting the grip of a forearm that feels like an iron bar around his neck.
In his fruitless struggle to break free, he somehow ends up with his face mashed up against Henry's body. His lungs are burning with the exertion of a hard fight. Hans inhales sharply, as he was taught a fighter should do, through the nose. And then—the smell.
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Hans realizes that he craves more than sweet perfume.
Series
- Part 7 of Hansry fics