text | un: lightning

[lightningruins]

a/s/l?

Comments

[swordhardy]

Hah! At least you're honest.

[ Iris moon—well, that explains why he's been feeling like crawling out of his skin lately. And if this guy doesn't care if he gets used and cut up, that's all the better. Win/win. ]

Pic?

[lightningruins]

u first

[swordhardy]

Alright.

[ img attch. ]

[lightningruins]

[sorry you get a returned selfie of a hobo. He's not in too many layers, at least, just a white shirt with probably too many holes in it, and cargo capris (also with too many holes). If he hadn't already said Iris moon hit him, the sharp teeth in his grin and the big furry bat ears would probably be a good indicator of that.

At least he looks like he just showered?]

[swordhardy]

Nice ears.

[ it's fine Ro wears orange and purple together unironically, he has no taste ]

You drink, old man?

[lightningruins]

just call me batman

u buying?

[swordhardy]

Only thing I spend money on, so sure.

[ He sends a location—one of the bars down on Level 3. ]

I'll be here all night.

[lightningruins]

[He's there soon enough, like there's no delay between receiving the message and heading out.

He slides into a chair next to his target, with a grin.]

Are the bartenders here any good?

[swordhardy]

[ Rokurou glances up from his drink when the stool next to him is taken, mouth quirking with a half smile. Guy looks exactly as promised: old man hobo. But there's nothing particularly offensive about him, and his scent is clean enough; it tickles against the daemon's nose, sense of smell extra sharp with Iris high and full in the sky. Which is saying something, since it's normally pretty keen to begin with. ]

Good enough to pour and keep them coming.

[ He's finishing off his own glass, Rokurou taps his fingers onto the counter— ]

What's your drink of choice?

[lightningruins]

Well, I think I'll have whatever you're having today. [That's a passive sort of answer, but hey, nothing wrong with that. Not with the really particular sort of mood he's in right now.]

[swordhardy]

Sake it is.

[ But he doesn’t flag down the bartender. Instead, Rokurou tosses his head back with a swing from his cup, before leaning over to grab the other man’s chin and jaw between his hands.

Yanking without preamble, crashing their mouths together as he shoves his tongue foreword without having swallowed the sake, so it’s between their lips. A sweet tang of alcohol to go with the sharp teeth he offers.

Rokurou said he’d be buying the drinks, didn’t say anything about how.

He pulls back when he’s (momentarily) satisfied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a little grin. ]

Not bad.

[lightningruins]

[Oh, it's time for some kind of kinky ass dominance bullshit, is it?

Lightning goes for it, lets the stranger manhandle his face, opens his mouth to the knock of teeth and the press of a tongue and the taste of alcohol passed between them. The stranger pulls back, and Lightning's tongue darts out to chase the contact, then to lick a drop of sake off the corner of his own mouth.

He laughs, bright and carefree.]

Man, you're the kinda guy who really goes for it right away, aren't'cha?

[swordhardy]

[ Hell yeah, it’s Iris moon mf ]

Haha, yeah. I guess I am.

[ As he drags his thumb across his lips, still smiling, relishing the way both alcohol and the mildest brush with moonlancing have his pulse quickening, slight tinge of bloodrush in his ears.

Relaxing, Rokurou leans in. Doesn’t grab again but does close some distance, top row of sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip. There’s mirth in his one visible eye, amber melded gold, but then other is mostly hidden by his hair. There’s just a hint of red between chunks of those bangs as he tilts his head. ]

Don’t like it?

[lightningruins]

I didn't say that. [He's grinning, showing off Iris-sharpened teeth as his big furry bat ears turn to catch the sound of that voice. Lightning's own bangs are a mess, a dark curtain over his bright blue eyes.

His voice is still bright, curious, a casual Texas drawl.]

What're you planning?

[swordhardy]

Planning?

[ He exhales shortly, something like a laugh but not quite— ]

Something like ... dragging you out back and shoving you down onto your knees?

[ Shoulder shrugging a bit, Rokurou turns his head, helping himself to another swig of something that the bartender slid down the counter. Just a shotglass, not even all that strong, but it feels good to wet his lips. ]

Unless there's something you're looking for. You're the one who posted. [ looking back, curious, ] What're you into, old man?

[lightningruins]

[Once is whatever, twice is getting commented on.]

You super into age play or is this your first time hooking up with an actual adult since you stopped fucking college kids?

If a guy's asking to take your dick in an alley behind the tenth seediest bar on fuck planet, you shouldn't just start off by insulting his age.

[He isn't even scolding the guy, just making a grinning comment.]

[swordhardy]

[ He laughs, a short huff of recognizing chastisement beneath the grin, letting the shotglass slide a few inches toward the other end of the bar with a flick of his fingers. ]

You're right, you're right. It's because I didn't check what your name is, actually.

[ And the other reason is dead and gone, so it doesn't really matter. Leaning back, Rokurou rubs his neck— ]

What do you prefer?

[lightningruins]

"Lightning" works for this kinda thing. You?

[swordhardy]

Rokurou Rangetsu.

[ He moves his fist over his chest with a small thump, and offers a forward tilt of the head— ]

At your service.

[lightningruins]

Good. I'll be sure to use your talents well.

I'm a pretty easygoing kind of guy, do you have any preferences?

[swordhardy]

Just that you don't hold back. S'more fun that way.

[ He'll go ahead and slide a fresh, proper drink toward Lightning now; he did say he was buying, after all. ]

Cheers to Iris?

[lightningruins]

Cheers. [He says, tapping his glass against the stranger's.]

What kinda things do you like?

[swordhardy]

If we're not talking about just fucking...? I'm a swordsman. I love a good challenge.

[ And he seems genuinely pleased to talk about it, pepping up at the very idea. There's little he loves more than swords or a good fight—even with the Iris moon making him think more with his dick. ]

If we are, you should find out for yourself.

[ .... but yeah he's still mostly thinking with his dick rn. ]

[lightningruins]

Yeah? I know my way around a sword pretty well too. [literal? metaphorical? who knows with iris happening.]

But you're really not a talker, are you? [Lewin doesn't mind skipping most of the conversation, though knowing if he's going to be getting some tender missionary position sex or sadomasochistic fucking would be nice, not that he'd turn down either option right now. With how this entire meeting's gone so far, he's really hoping for the fucking.]

Well, guess that's okay. You sure as hell didn't complain about any of my suggestions earlier. [He isn't going to take his drink like a shot, but he's not slow about it either.] But I'm getting bored. Don't keep me waiting too long.

[swordhardy]

I like it, actually. Talking. If you mean it about swords, I'll talk to you about those anytime. [ that's the last drink for now—Rokurou sets himself onto his feet; there's no sway, no stumble. he's completely fine, despite having helped himself to a few drinks. ] But that's not why you're here right now.

[ And that's not what he's in the mood for. This guy—Lightning—already said he doesn't mind getting bitten. That's all Rokurou needs to know.

Doesn't matter to him if they're still at the bar, other people here and there. Rokurou fists his hand into that dark messy mop of hair and yanks, really doesn't care if it hurts, cracks his neck. All that the daemon cares about is getting a bare stretch to sink his teeth into. Close to where he can taste the throb of a pulse, a coaxing sound against his sensitive hearing, drawn toward that spot on thoughtless instinct.

And unless Lightning makes a point of stopping him, he will. He leans right over his shoulder and snap his teeth down, grinding his tongue against flesh caught between them. Wanting to taste blood and not shy about how hard his fangs pierce, sharp nails scraping against scalp as he tightens his grip.

It ain't gonna be tender missionary. ]