When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 88: Vanilla Wish

Chapter 88: Vanilla Wish

Fresh from the shower and wrapped in clean sheets, Gabriel was lying on his stomach, elbows propped up as he traced the collection of scars and scratches on Kant’s torso.

"How did you get all these?" His fingers ran over slim cut marks near the abdomen.

Kant glanced at the scar Gabriel stopped on. "Most are from earlier days. Fighting with knives. Always ended messy."

"And this one?" Gabriel had found a large white line, almost hidden by muscle.

Kant hummed, glancing at the scar as if it was nothing but a dirt streak. "Bullet graze."

Gabriel paused to imagine it, then moved on.

He stared at strange, round scars. At first, Gabriel thought they were vaccine scars, but there were too many. He was trying to figure out what those were, but Kant beat him to it.

"Cigarette burns."

Gabriel frowned. "What? Why?"

"Older kids at the organization sometimes messed with the young ones."

Kant’s tone was strangely devoid of emotion, and Gabriel almost thought he didn’t care. Even looking into his eyes, he seemed over it, bored even.

Gabriel let his hand wander lower and encountered a thick white line, the kind that seemed to be from a surgery.

Once again, before he even had time to imagine, Kant dryly said, "C-section."

Tears of laughter gathered in the corner of Gabriel’s eyes as he laughed himself deaf. "What?!"

Kant tried to act cool at first, but quickly cracked, joining the contagious laughter.

"Oh, God." Gabriel flopped onto his back, eyes still watery as he tried to catch his breath. "What was it from, seriously?"

"Appendectomy."

"Okay, that makes more sense."

Gabriel squirmed closer to reach further up. His hand stopped at a burn mark right under his collarbone, red and shaped like a flame that had crawled under his skin.

"And this?"

Kant’s expression stayed the same, but his eyes lost a little of the newfound levity. "Torture."

Gabriel winced. Well, that was a mood killer. He was about to take his hand back, but Kant put his hand on top, pinning it in place.

"It doesn’t hurt. You can touch."

"Really? But it looks like it hurts."

"It’s too old to hurt."

The edges were slightly rough to touch, like melted skin that had hardened. Gabriel didn’t have to close his eyes to imagine how badly it hurt. He pursed his lips, covering it with the blanket.

"Nobody deserves this."

"...That’s debatable."

Gabriel shot him a look. "Torture?"

Kant shrugged. "I’ve run into some people who deserved worse."

Gabriel sighed, dropping his head against the mattress. "You have a messed-up sense of justice."

"Justice?" Kant considered, absentmindedly rubbing the red bite mark on his shoulder. "We operate by the rules set in our own worlds." He leaned over Gabriel, arching a brow. "Where I come from, I’d have to bite you back to make it even."

Gabriel tensed, trying to squirm away. "You won’t. You’re not a biter."

Kant chuckled, pinning him down securely. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Y’know what it means. You’re vanilla," Gabriel taunted. "Too gentle."

"You want me to be rough?"

"I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind that occasionally."

Kant narrowed his eyes, but it was his only warning before his teeth grazed Gabriel’s shoulder.

Gabriel grimaced a little, anticipating the sting, but instead all he got was a small peck and casual retreat.

He made an unimpressed sound. "It tickles."

"Tickling can be torture too," Kant remarked, leaning back against the bedframe.

"Really?" Gabriel poked at Kant’s waist, unable to stop touching him now that he could. "Does it work on you?"

"Mhm. Just the method to get me talking," Kant dead-panned, not budging.

"Well," Gabriel smirked, "I know another way to get you out of control."

His hand slipped under the sweatpants he’d lent Kant, but his wrist was caught before he could grope around.

"What are you up to again? We just got cleaned up."

"We can shower again," Gabriel replied, the tone innocent but his other hand sliding down to try again.

Kant shifted away once more. "Where do you get all this energy?"

"I’m just a motivated person." Gabriel rolled after him and threw a leg over his waist.

"More like relentless."

"Maybe." Gabriel chuckled, resting his chin on Kant’s shoulder. "So, did you figure out what you’re going to wish for?"

Kant furrowed his brow, a familiar look of contemplation crossing his expression. He ran his hand up Gabriel’s back slowly, fingertips skating over his smooth skin.

"Come here," was all he said, turning to the side and pulling Gabriel closer until they were chest to chest.

Gabriel didn’t need to be asked twice, happily shifting his position to snuggle up more comfortably. "You’re not gonna make me do something weird, right?"

Despite saying that, Gabriel hoped he would ask for something really weird. Thrilling, maybe even a bit crazy.

Kant glanced down. "Huh? No, this is my wish."

Gabriel lifted his head and scoffed. "Cuddling?"

"...Is that so disappointing?"

"No, it’s just that we were doing that already," Gabriel gestured, nudging him to rethink. "You’re wasting your wish."

Kant’s fingers stroked up his arm, leaving behind pleasant goosebumps. "I already got everything I could wish for. Could die happy."

Gabriel clicked his tongue, feeling a sudden urge to squeeze or bite something. "You’re talking weird."

"Am I?"

Kant’s warmth wrapped around him like a second blanket, the slow rise and fall of his chest syncing with Gabriel’s breathing.

It should’ve been easy to get comfortable and drift off, but something about the way Kant was holding him—firm, secure, like he meant it—was making his stomach feel weirdly weightless.

Gabriel shifted slightly, fighting the ticklish, fluttery sensation creeping up his ribs.

"You’re really wasting your chance here," he muttered, more to fill the silence than anything. "You know that?"

Kant hummed noncommittally, seemingly half-asleep already.

Gabriel groaned dramatically and tucked the comforter tighter around them. "You’re not even listening."

"Mm... I am not wasting anything. And I’m listening... Keep talking..."