text | un: lightning

[lightningruins]

a/s/l?

Comments

[swordhardy]

[ Rokurou's grip tightens, keeping black strands fast between his fingers. Yanking hard, not out of any particular intention, but because his (usually decent) restraint's slipping. Enough that his nails dig harder into Lightning's scalp in a possessive grasp.

It's a thrill, feeling skin give beneath his teeth, and Rokurou drags the flat of his tongue up along the swollen crush of teethmarks. Tilts his head even more when he's tugged in, enough that Rokurou's chin drags, chafing the coarseness of the curl of black daemon skin that jags against tan human flesh.

A thrill, but it's not enough—there's always that rhythm beating along with his pulse, demanding he take more, serve his own selfish needs, wants, and it's especially loud now. Iris's fault? Maybe.

His free hand snaps down to grab onto Lightning's clothes right back, close to outright manhandling as he tries to drag him up from his seat, wanting to shove him toward the door and through to their immediate left. Not the alleyway, that's too far. ]

C'mon.

[ Barricading in one of the bar's bathrooms? Good enough. ]

[lightningruins]

[He's dragged up off his barstool, which is hot. This entire encounter is going straight into the short list of memories to call up for later use.]

Aren't you gonna say "please"? [He's not expecting that to work. His tone is almost needling, like he's trying to piss Rokurou off more.]