For a long, suspended moment, neither of them moves.
Fenris and Axel remain where they are, eyes locked across the stillness of the room, the argument exhausted, the words they'd been flinging at each other finally running dry.
But in the silence that settles, something else begins to stir, quiet at first, almost unnoticed.
The weight of their fury shifts, softens, and in its place, something heavier creeps in. It moves quietly beneath their skin, an awareness that crawls in slow waves, heating the air between them.
The longer they stay like that, not speaking, and just stare at each other, the more undeniable the tension becomes.
Axel starts feeling uneasiness rising again, the heat that always seems to come whenever he's close to Fenris.
Beads of sweat begin to gather along his skin, forming lightly at his brow, beneath his collar, along the center of his chest.
He shifts slightly, but it does nothing to break the pressure building inside him. If anything, it sharpens.
