IC Inbox (Golden Peacock)
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20ish / m / bisexual / 6♤
Details
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either
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
what is this
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
bath
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
what is a ninja
.05 TITS OR ASS
both
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
what is this
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
spicy
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
summer
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
leather
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
either
ENFJ-A - The Protagonist

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[ He doesn't know how he feels about it, honestly. Not that he's in a deep thinking sort of mood with Dodger touching his cock and plying kisses out of him. ]
Two years? [ It does feel like mere months have been ... well. Way too long. But Henry knows what it's like to have something just hanging over you for such a long time. It's that sympathy, the repulsion of his own hauntings that gets him to nod his head. ]
I wish that didn't make sense, but. It does. I'll help you how I can. [ He smirks, leaning up for a kiss of his own. ] Assuming you don't just get me off that way first.
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[Sometime later he can rant about health insurance, and how lucky he is to have a mob doctor and more money available to him than any one man can reasonably spend. How deeply unlucky he's been for most of his life, and how unlucky most people around him are. But if anything is going to actually bring he mood down, it's that.]
Five years since it started. Two years since it ended. I can't really talk about the details, but... maybe some other time.
['It' is already something Dodger's been incredibly vague about. Partly because thinking too hard about Arzial's abuse makes him feel sick, and partly because he still isn't sure if it's okay to mention brutally murdering his former cult. Even if he feels like it was a public good. Even this is new information, the first time he's mentioned that it wasn't a single incident.
Dodger grins into that kiss, and his hand squeezes softly around the base of Henry's cock before letting go.]
Wouldn't want that, would we.
[One more kiss, before he slides off of the bed to track his jacket down. He's got one more fireproofing potion in one of those hidden pockets... he just has to figure out which one.]
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[ he's a bit curious, of course. But it really isn't the time.
He offers Dodger a small but genuine smile. ]
It's alright. Only if you want to, sometime.
[ He'll certainly listen. But he also completely understands not wanting to talk about it. It's difficult, both the subject matter and opening yourself up and being vulnerable in that way. AKA, it's not what Men do.
He huffs softly as Dodger pulls away from the kiss, making a point to groan exaggeratedly as he plops backward onto his pillow. Like he's incredibly disappointed that he's lost the attention he was just getting. ]
If you can't find one, I've got some in the bathroom. And yes, you're getting it. I'm not moving.
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Be right back, then.
[His form bursts apart into flames, and a minute or so later he reappears directly next to Henry, already on the bed. This time it's absolutely on purpose to startle him, but he gestures triumphantly with the potion before passing it over.]
Found it.
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Kurva! Fuck! Ty jseš čurák...
[ he puts one hand to his forehead and snatches the potion with the other. ]
You're an arse. Jesus.
[ he pops the top off still though and knocks it back. ]
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Anch'io ti amo, carissimo.
[He hasn't spoken Italian in a long while, so his pronunciation is a little rough. But it's serving its purpose, to obscure what he's saying a little bit, although the sarcastic tone is pretty clear.
He settles in properly once Henry's drank the potion, tipping him onto his back and straddling his lap once more. He keeps holding Henry's hand for now, only letting go of Henry pulls it away.]
What does 'kurva' mean?
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Are you — was that Italian?
[ He wasn't expecting that, his look one of mild wonderment even as he's laid back against the bed. And the pronunciation is probably better than Henry's still so there is that. ]
Kurva means — well, it's similar to 'fuck' I guess. Versatile like it, so when someone's being a right bastard, for example ...
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It was, yeah. The man that raised me was Italian, it rubbed off on me.
[He leans down, to press another kiss to Henry's lips. When he speaks again, his tone is purely flirtatious.]
Since I'm being a bastard, you should teach me a lesson.
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[ Not a heavily biased suggestion at all. But it has distracted him from being startled almost to death by Dodger's fire.
That and the kisses, of course.
He smiles against Dodger's lips, sitting up on an elbow slightly. ]
Seems to me like that would be rewarding your bastard behavior.
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[He's talking a big game, but he can already speak four languages so he's convinced a fifth one wouldn't be that hard.
Dodger lets out a little huff of laughter, and seeks out another kiss. Maybe two, it's hard not to get fully distracted by them himself.]
Just feel me up already.
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[ Not that he's a very good teacher. But still.
He laughs a little too, lying back down properly on the bed so his hands are free to slide down Dodger's sides and against his back. He's careful not to go too low at the moment. ]
Yeah, yeah.
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Not important, though, because his focus is on Henry's wandering hands. He just answers with a hum of acknowledgement, and shifts to press kisses to Henry's neck. Just warm at first, but his lips turn burning-hot once he figures the potion has fully taken effect again.
After a while he finds another spot, opposite from the last mark he left, to bite down and suck a red mark into Henry's skin.]
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Even with the potion working, Henry draws his breath in in anticipation, like he expects it to burn even when it doesn't. And when it's for certain he isn't scalding, that breath comes out again in a thick shudder, especially once Dodger uses his teeth. He honestly is glad there's no one around at the moment that he would feel the need to hide those marks away like his life depended on it.
He keeps his hands moving, mapping out the shape of Dodger's body as if they didn't just do this a few hours ago. Henry is just very thorough with his hands, that's all. ]
Can I touch you lower?
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Don't ask first, just touch me.
[It's only after he says that, that he realizes how stupid it is. But he still has the same preferences he's always had, despite his damage. He wants to be overwhelmed, he wants others to take control of him and touch him however they want, figuring he can always just push them off if they do something he doesn't like.
He probably shouldn't be playing so fast and loose with his panic responses.]
...Go slow, but don't be gentle. I'll tell you if it's too much.
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If you say.
[ Going slow but also not being gentle do not particularly compute to Henry so he's just going to do his best.
He kisses Dodger again as his hands slide down the slope at the small of the man's back and then further along his ass. He hesitates a moment, but tries out giving it a generous squeeze with one of his hands. Maybe he's more nervous than Dodger is, he doesn't know! But that should be fine if that's the case. ]
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Dodger presses back into that kiss, and makes it far enough to get squeezed before he pulls back, breathing heavily.]
Hands off.
[His voice is quieter than he means it to be. But he's confident, at least, that Henry will listen. And he thinks that stops the panic from fully taking hold of him.]
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He'd had a hunch this is how that would go. It was nice while it lasted. ]
Right.
[ he doesn't apologize, because he's not sure that's the response Dodger wants. Or needs? And those hands of his drop to the mattress, pushing Henry up a little bit. It's so he can seek out another kiss as an alternative. His hands will go back to work in a moment. Somewhere else, of course. ]
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Didn't burn you. So we're fine.
[He also can't burn Henry, so that barely means anything. But he's stubborn, he wants this to work. Eventually.
After a moment of thought he bites his lip.]
Can you touch my scars again?
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No, you didn't.
[ But that's beside the point, he supposes? Anyway, it's not like he minds that Dodger needs a little time and space for certain things. He gets it.
Without a verbal answer, he bring his hands up against the sides of Dodger's face, brushing his fingertips on one hand along the line of a scar. He wonders what they're from, but he isn't going to ask. Fucked up as it might be, it reminds him a bit of home, the imperfect flesh, the remnants of a conflict conquered. ]
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There's some information Henry will be able to get from observing them up close, at least. That they're too jagged and irregular to come from a knife or a sword, that they're aligned in a way that implies they're all from one blow. And that they don't match any other scarring on his body.
Dodger doesn't think he'd mind telling Henry what they're from, but... it's everything around that, his own actions, that he's hesitant to talk about. He still doesn't really know how to talk about the blood on his hands, but he figures that can wait a while longer.]
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Of course he wants to ask. But he's not going to right now. He feels like scars to your face usually take more of an effort to talk about than, say, the arrow wound Henry has at the back of his left shoulder. ]
You alright?
[ Dodger probably doesn't want him to ask, but. Too bad. ]
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I'm fine.
[It would have been his answer anyway, but he's starting to cool back down. Mostly. His breathing is almost under control, his heart rate is slowing back down. He knows it will start right back up if they push it again, but he still wants to. Just to see if he can handle it a little longer.]
You're here, and you're not gonna hurt me. So I'm fine.
[With anyone else he'd probably word it as you can't hurt me. But he at least has the good sense to pretend there's a possibility. Just for the sake of Henry's honor.]
You can keep touching me, if you want.
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He does appreciate the protecting of his pride a bit. That thing is dangling by a thread since he came to this place.
The thumb of his free hand swipes across Dodger's cheek gently. ]
Here?
[ Or elsewhere? He can work up to it again most likely, even if he is quite concerned about Dodger's fears. ]
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There. Or lower. Whatever you want.
[He's still got his messy emotions about wanting to be free for Henry to do what he wants with, and that comes with shame for having any limits at all. He figures, at least, that it's spurring him to keep working on himself and that's probably a good thing.]
We probably can't go past touching. But I want to keep trying.
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[ Hurt isn't the right word, but he doesn't really know what is. So he hopes Dodger gets his meaning at least.
Leaning up to kiss Dodger's unscarred cheek, he offers him a smile. One of his hands finds its perch back against Dodger's waist. ]
'Course we can keep trying.
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