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 Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 3:58 am
Bored. That was the one and only thought running through Z's head as he sat at the bar area of the club, watching the dancers and nursing a beer. He was also a little drunk, but that was okay - it only added to the pounding in his veins, beating in time to the bassline. Lucien had dragged him here tonight for some as-yet-unfathomable reason, but it had been at least an hour since he'd last seen his partner, and Z had the sneaking suspicion that the TECHNICIAN had already left. Most likely with a girl or two.
Taking a long swig of his beer, Z finished it off and placed it none too gently on the counter before signaling for a new one.
As he waited, he raised violet eyes towards the ceiling in an absent contemplation of the bright, flashing lights. With a clarity that only the semi inebriated could muster, he decided he needed to either leave, or make some sort of social effort.
The sound of glass hitting bartop reached his ears over the blaring music, and Z nodded his thanks before going back to his thoughts. He decided that he'd give himself the time it took to finish the beer, before having to make a choice.
What to do?
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 4:47 am
Ivan didn't so much weave as shove his way through the gyrating bodies, both hands curled around the necks of today's unopened poison of choice. The bartender had been a coolcat for someone stuck behind silver nozzles, sworn by Stirips - and heck, any drink that sounded like a chick removing her clothes was good by Ivan - who, actual Russian or not, inhaled with the best of them like he was watering a damned flower.
So maybe it wasn't Ivan's first round for tonight. Or even his third. Venturing into the mash of limbs and torsos was a blur; he didn't feel a thing anymore when heels smashed into his almost-bare feet (and guess how many tens he'd had to slip the bouncer to ignore that?). Club life was the only time it all made sense for Ivan – when the outside matched all the crazy strobing shapes inside his head.
Yeah...Ivan liked bars. Violence was written into the program, and if you had the money you could never, ever get bored. So maybe that was why when he sighted the poor b*****d cradling his pansy a** drink and looking like he was at church, something in his alcohol-fueled haze made him stagger over. He was a ******** up person, but that didn't mean he couldn't share right? He plonked down his prizes on the counter at that conclusion, sat down next to said b*****d and nearly missed the chair.
“The hell is that,” he said more than asked, nodding at the beer. “Listen,” he leaned forward, and promptly forgot the rest of the sentence. Geez, this guy had pretty eyes.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 5:17 am
Z watched with curious eyes as the lean man with an eyepatch staggered over, obviously more drunk than he. The thud as the bottles hit the counter failed to make him twitch - even inebriated, he had better control than that - though a snicker escaped his lips as the other almost fell off the chair before he had ever even been seated on it. Sitting still, Z remained almost expressionless as he was addressed, though it was most likely an alcohol-induced calmness that allowed him to remain so detached from the entire situation.
When he was told to "Listen", however, Z finally felt he had to respond.
Swivelling in his chair so that he could face the other directly, Z was surprised to find his face much closer than he'd originally planned. But hey, he could go with the flow. "To what, the music?"
So close, it was hard to miss the seedy cast to the other's features. Not my type. The words echoed through the fog the alcohol had cast over his mind, but didn't quite seem to penetrate his consciousness. Violet eyes blinked twice, almost sleepily, before the face was pulled back.
Looked like his choice had been made for him. Social effort it was, by default.
"Beer." The strobe lights caught on his tongue piercing as he spoke, flashing silver. "You have a problem with that?"
Not waiting for an answer, Z dropped his head backwards, bringing bottle of said liquid in his hand up to his lips.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 6:03 am
Ivan cocked his head to get a better angle as the guy spoke - half-draped over the counter, his neck felt pretty heavy, plus his depth perception was shot to hell at the best of times - and it turned out the eyes weren't the only pretty things about the man. Ivan was floating through a fairly pleasant high at this stage but he didn't miss the curl of a tattoo disappearing from his field of vision. Interesting. More than interesting - Ivan really wanted to brush that hair back and ******** lick it.
"Not the music," he grinned easily, and found the violet gaze with his own. Alcohol had a habit of soothing the beast a little, softening the edges until he could pass for a kinda dangerous drunk guy, and not a kinda dangerous drunk guy who'd break glass over your head - which he could and would and did.
"Beer," Ivan repeated after a moment with a half-muzzled sneer. Didn't that say it all? He might've gotten up and left, but then the guy had to go and say that. Ivan tended to lose interest quickly enough but it'd always been a weakness of his – a challenge might as well be an adrenaline shot, and when he saw people shut tight like clams, all he could think about was forcing them open. It'd probably even come to that if the guy didn't stop ******** blinking.
So at this point Ivan was marvelling at his self-control - here was this man, ready-wrapped and all – when the guy tilted back his neck to expose the line of his throat. ******** that noise, Ivan thought, and the tongue piercing was really the last straw. He knocked the bottle aside and cupped the man's jaw with more speed than he thought his drunk a** was capable of, with every intention of taking him up on the invitation.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 6:54 am
The grin didn't seem to do much for the other man's shady features, but at least it brought a shine to the single grey eye that could be seen. "If not the music, then what? You?" The last word was laced with sarcasm. Alcohol made him calmer, but the slight censor that he usually applied over his speech was always one of the first things to go.
He hadn't missed the fact that this guy's very bearing and attitude spoke of danger, but the fact didn't bother him at all for several reasons. First, his alternate form was razorwire, and if that wasn't enough, he had Lucien as a partner. And that boy was one ******** scary son of a b***h. More so since nobody else seemed to realize it. It had been the challenge of that danger that sparked his original question regarding the beer, and it was that very same challenge that caused him to sneer right back, glancing down at the other man's bottles as he did so.
"Stirips? Is it because you can't get any otherwise?"
Z could - almost - ignore the man's hand on his jaw, except that his beer had gone flying. If it hadn't been for the alcohol, Z was relatively sure he'd have been able to see it coming before it happened, but the other's actions had brought with it a rush of adrenaline and his thoughts were immediately yanked into the here and now.
Quick as a snake, a hand came up to wrap itself deceptively casually around the other's wrist, exerting pressure until their faces were close enough to touch. Just a breath - that's all it would take. "You knocked over my beer." Z's voice was deep and low, slightly slurred by alcohol. There was a feral light in his violet eyes as he stood absolutely still, the lucid part of him that was now shouting quite loudly nothing but a muted whisper in the back of his head, drowned out by alcohol and adrenaline.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 8:31 pm
Ivan kept the grin but stayed silent during the little tirade. Between the roar of bass and conversation and the blood pounding in his head he could barely string a sentence together – but hell, it wasn't as if words had ever done him any good. No thoughts for now; just dark instinct, the kind that stayed keen no matter how close he got to the bottom of the glass – I act, you act, maybe we can all have a throwdown. And Christ. Look at this guy. Getting all worked up, and the pissed-off expression was even more appealing. Ivan took a moment to admire the compact frame. Had he gotten it wrong after all? Mistaken a fellow snake for a mongoose?
Well, whatever. Maybe 'cause he'd grown up with the bare bones of it, he wasn't picky - give him a fight, a lay, or a slab of meat and he was in heaven; action of any kind, anything Ivan could sink his teeth into - it was all interchangeable. So if this guy wanted a wrestling match, ace. If he wanted a different kind of wrestling... Ivan's grin widened, and his tongue flicked out to trace his canines. Maybe they could do ********, you're a shrew," Ivan breathed (because some response was probably expected after the spitfire questioning), with approval stamped over his features. The other's eyes were firebright, and experience told Ivan stepping wrongly at this point might prove fatal, but he'd never been the type to shy at a cliff edge. Barely glancing at the man's hand on his wrist, he moved his head to purr softly into an ear. "I've got a better offer."
Exactly what offer he meant was anyone's guess.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:37 pm
Adrenaline and alcohol combined caused time to move in slow motion as Z's eyes flickered down, following the movement of the other's tongue as it slipped over gleaming teeth. Hell... The lucid voice in his head wasn't exactly sane on the best of days, and right now it seemed like nothing would be better than biting that tongue as it slipped back inside, accompanied by the pounding bass and the pleasant fuzz the alcohol had created.
Then the man spoke, and Z found his attention diverted from his target, his lips forming automatically into a smile, though it was more like a baring of teeth. Perhaps, he could make it hurt. He hadn't even been sure what he'd meant with the previous statement - a threat, a promise, a statement? - and couldn't even quite remember what it was that he'd said. But being called a shrew, that had to be something of an insult, right? The thought flickered through his mind, moving as disjointedly as the blinking lights around them.
What the hell... he thought again, not entirely sure why he was thinking it, but believing it to be appropriate as the other's alcohol-laden breath whispered in his ear. The movement exposed the side of the other's neck, and with the word 'offer' resounding in his ears, tangling with the music beat that seemed to echo his own blood, Z leaned his dark head down, eyes drooping into lazy slits as his mouth opened, teeth flashing with the lights a split second before he bit into the tender flesh.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 10:44 pm
When the beginnings of a carnal smile spread over the guy's face, Ivan felt his blood heat - like everything lower than his stomach had turned to molten glue. It looked like someone was finally getting with the program - father ******** time. The jagged expression was familiar, and if the blaze in those eyes was anything to go by, the sting would be more than worth the wait. What was it gonna be? Ivan wasn't sure. The man had some crazy, come-hither thing about him that meant he couldn't decide whether he wanted to punch him or bend him over the nearest surface.
He was tossing up between the options when the other guy seemed to get impatient - eager, was he? - and sniped the first move from right under him. Ivan liked to rile people up, but this guy took '******** tease' to a new level - intent, apparently, on getting under Ivan's skin in a more pleasurable way. "Hell yes," he hissed, as the man's lips twitched back, and teeth sank down into his neck.
After a motionless moment of relish, Ivan's hand re-tightened where it had gone slack at the man's jaw, and slowly, almost gently, pried him off his neck. He took another pause to look him over in predatory appreciation. "When you're flat on your back," he growled, a low noise of satisfaction and hunger, "Remember you ******** started it," and then his mouth crushed the man's hard enough to knock him off the stool.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 11:25 pm
Z "mmmm"ed, the sound vibrating deep in his throat as he bit hard, wanting to punish for the perceived insult from before, but oh so easily distracted by the feel of flesh between his teeth. His tongue flicked out to taste, and the smooth metal of the barbell brushed against skin before his face was forcibly removed from the other man's neck.
He had time to see the glittering desire in the single grey eye before the words caught his full attention. All thoughts of retribution or holding back flew out of his head, and the little voice whispering 'Not your type' in time to the music became a nonexistent memory. "Who says you'll--" Opening his mouth to speak, Z only managed to get out the first part of the sentence before his mouth was covered with enough force for him to almost lose his already unsteady balance on the bar stool.
Using his hand on the other's wrist as leverage, Z's fingers tightened to the point of pain as he hauled himself back, leaning forward into the kiss. He pushed slightly, applying pressure with lips, body, and hand until the other was far enough back for him to stand up to his full height, the stool skidding backwards loudly behind him. The sound was ignored as, with the other now forced to lift his face up towards his own, Z had the other exactly where he wanted him.
One last, sharp bite to the other's lower lip, and the dark head raised slightly, eyes heavy-lidded with enjoyment. "Who says," Z paused, his face covered in an amused grin, "that I'll be the one on my back?" His free hand now rose to tangle in the other's hair - turned almost white by the strange club lighting - and he tugged at the flacid locks, exerting his superior position.
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 6:22 am
Ivan's grin was feral against the stranger's mouth as he found it already open, pressing forward without particular care to the fit and sucking the words right out of it. His neck throbbed pleasantly – cool air blew across the stinging wetness, sending shudders down his skin as his hand slid from jaw to nape, catching stray strands of inky hair and rubbing it absently between his fingers. ********, the guy could could bite, and by the looks of it he wasn't a half-assed kisser either.
A hard, sharp pain shot from his arm as the other's chair skidded and a hand ground down on his wristbones, but absorbed in the attack, Ivan only gave a muffled snarl - I dare you to stop - punctuated with rough nips to the other's mouth and tongue. On occasion he missed entirely, piercing and eyeteeth scraping over the smooth-shaven chin. ******** finesse; Ivan bumped his nose numerous times against nose and cheek, more excited by the potential for blood.
As the mouth withdrew, Ivan's lips parted in a silent 'hah,' tempted for a moment to follow and reclaim. But the man was speaking – and, Ivan realised standing. He licked at the swollenness for a moment while he took in the sudden height difference. Mmm... They really did put something in the water around here. But hell, he could be flexible. "Not up for the kinky s**t," he declared bluntly and, at the other pawing his hair, smirked in a way that was blatantly lewd. "I ain't got a problem with you riding me though."
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 7:22 am
Son of a -- liked to bite, damn it. The thought appeared in his mind as he stared down at his companion, violet eyes glittering in the dim lights. With the small distance between their faces - and the fingers in the other's hair ensured that the space remained, his brain was able to finally break out of the adrenaline induced reaction to realize he had minor stings over the lower half of his face that throbbed painfully pleasantly in time to the beat of the music.
Well, so did he. And his eyes turned almost black with blatant arousal, head lowering fractionally with the intention of returning the not-so-gentle bites with some of his own... until the other's words gave him momentary pause. "That's fine." At that moment, Z would most likely have agreed to anything, with the full intention of ignoring it all when the time came. But tonight, it seemed that him and his stranger companion were of the same mind. Good.
Plunging long fingers into the other's hair, he grabbed, pulling the head back to expose a smooth line of throat. All decisions made, Z bent his tall frame completely to the task of returning the sharp bites he had received during their initial kiss. Mouth unerringly found the spot he'd originally bitten, and his tongue swirled once around the spot before he clamped down, sucking hard before moving up along the sensitive tendons, biting almost hard enough to draw blood as he went. When he reached the other's ear, his tongue plunged into the soft shell without preamble, before posing the question that would take this even further.
"Where to?" Z didn't care - here, behind the bar in the alleyways, his place, a rooftop, wherever. But that was too many options, and he didn't want to be thinking right now.
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 7:53 pm
Ivan huffed a laugh at the intent in the man's eyes, not that he was unaffected by his... performance so far. He ignored the needling sensation of fingers at his scalp, tipping his head to survey his handiwork. Red marks and the possible start of a bruise; hard to tell the extent of it in the light but Ivan's grin was full of fangs. He was a big believer in the golden rule. if it ain't rough, it ain't fun.
As far as Ivan was concerned, the slight reprieve they were taking was a waste of time. He didn't need to hear 'yes' from the pretty mouth when the body was honest, and judging from the way it'd suddenly become a furnace, this one knew exactly what it wanted. His eye drifted to half-mast as the other man returned to his task – as much as Ivan enjoyed telling people what to do, there was something to be said about the ones that knew without being told.
He gave as good as he got, making sounds that were increasingly primal and impatient until the man's attention was diverted to his neck and they morphed into one throaty noise of non-objection. He pulled with his captured hand – not to squirm free from the vice-like hold, but enough to settle on the man's hip and push the shirt up to dig his callouses into the skin beneath. His other hand went to work at the elastic in the man's hair – if that was a no-touch zone he was sure the guy'd let him know with a fist to the face, and ******** if Ivan was the type to ask for permission.
"Come on," he said, talking into the other man's skin. His first instinct was to nudge them towards the bathroom, but he thought this guy had a couple of rounds in him and didn't want to scare him off too soon. "My place."
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ikshiva rolled 1 100-sided dice:
63
Total: 63 (1-100)
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 8:32 pm
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