Post by Luck Harris on Mar 4, 2023 3:01:55 GMT -8
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Nick took the bottle from Dane's hands and tipped it back with the same steely resolve he himself had moments before, coaxing one corner of the hunter's lip into a half-hearted tuck. As he offered a brief rundown of his own recent shenanigans, Dane watched him with muted curiosity. Billionaires, mansions, and secret lairs? It occurred to him that Nick knew an awful lot about him — his hobbies, his "profession", the ins and outs of his summoning ability, and even his proclivity for needing stitches — and Dane knew very little in turn. Could only guess what he did with his time (besides snooping, breaking into strange women's apartments, and doctoring murderers). He was used to the shoe being on the other foot — used to him being the mysterious one — but it wasn't particularly unsettling. Especially when Nick continued on about pigeons and cats; describing games Dane, too, enjoyed playing. [break][break]
He took the bottle back when Nick offered it and snorted. "That does sound like fun. I know so little about you, Nicky. You'll have to share some of these escapades with me someday. Maybe invite me out on one if you desire the company. We never did get our second date." He took another generous pull from his cigarette, eyes fluttering at the swirling buzz of nicotine that lapped kindly through his skull. "Though I get it, sometimes two foxes in the henhouse is one fox too many." [break][break]
He felt Nick's observing gaze on him and studied the smoke curling through the air before them as he began prodding for the particulars surrounding their ongoing funeral. When the other man trailed off, abruptly understanding without the need for explanation, Dane didn't confirm nor deny (suspected he didn't need to), and only blinked slowly. [break][break]
Nick was right. He had liked Silene. She was beautiful. Wild. Mean and fiercely vindictive every time her girlfriend shut her out for the night. Seeking Dane's company — or likely anyone else's if he was too slow to answer her beckons — just so she could return the next morning reeking of him. He'd been more than happy to be used by her. To let her rip and claw at him in her hungry hunt for vengeance. To suffer the bared teeth and curled lip she pressed in the space between his neck and shoulder; the furthest thing from the soft, adoring touch she reserved for someone else. It suited him just fine. And now she was dead in the street. He should have left her alone. Let her sweat out her frustrations with someone else. [break][break]
"Nah... nothing like that," he returned the bottle to his lips and pinched his eyes shut as he tipped it back, forcing himself to gulp greedily despite the burn. When he let it fall back to his lap, he shook his head and blew out his cheeks with a grimacing cough. "Her only real crime was knowing me." He pushed the heels of his feet into the ground, starting a soft sway in his swing. [break][break]
"My boss," — he could have said father, almost did, but knew he'd loathe the sound of it; knew the word would drip with loathing at the admittance — "Didn't like that I was sleeping with a Gifted." The words still came out undeniably bitter and he huffed a short, derisive breath. "Or more likely, just didn't like I was enjoying myself." He lifted the cigarette and inhaled, flinching as he sucked straight fire from the filter. He lowered the finished butt to his lap and dropped his gaze to study its scorched end; smashing it between his fingers, unraveling the paper, and picking apart the yellowed material within. "Anyway, it all boiled down to me or her. And I chose me." [break][break]
He flicked the cigarette away and shot Nick a sneaking grin that lacked any true amusement. "I'm selfish like that." He sucked in a breath and lifted his hands to grip the chains on either side of him, tipping his head to peer up the starless sky. "I'll get it over it, though." He attempted to make his voice lighter, less troubled, and sighed airily. "She was just a girl. There'll be better fights and better fucks tomorrow and I'll forget about it." [break][break]
Or, at least, until the next time Antonio decided he was having a bit too much fun. There would always be a next time. Up until his stupid, disgusting tattoo covered the entirety of him or he let his father win and died.
Nick took the bottle from Dane's hands and tipped it back with the same steely resolve he himself had moments before, coaxing one corner of the hunter's lip into a half-hearted tuck. As he offered a brief rundown of his own recent shenanigans, Dane watched him with muted curiosity. Billionaires, mansions, and secret lairs? It occurred to him that Nick knew an awful lot about him — his hobbies, his "profession", the ins and outs of his summoning ability, and even his proclivity for needing stitches — and Dane knew very little in turn. Could only guess what he did with his time (besides snooping, breaking into strange women's apartments, and doctoring murderers). He was used to the shoe being on the other foot — used to him being the mysterious one — but it wasn't particularly unsettling. Especially when Nick continued on about pigeons and cats; describing games Dane, too, enjoyed playing. [break][break]
He took the bottle back when Nick offered it and snorted. "That does sound like fun. I know so little about you, Nicky. You'll have to share some of these escapades with me someday. Maybe invite me out on one if you desire the company. We never did get our second date." He took another generous pull from his cigarette, eyes fluttering at the swirling buzz of nicotine that lapped kindly through his skull. "Though I get it, sometimes two foxes in the henhouse is one fox too many." [break][break]
He felt Nick's observing gaze on him and studied the smoke curling through the air before them as he began prodding for the particulars surrounding their ongoing funeral. When the other man trailed off, abruptly understanding without the need for explanation, Dane didn't confirm nor deny (suspected he didn't need to), and only blinked slowly. [break][break]
Nick was right. He had liked Silene. She was beautiful. Wild. Mean and fiercely vindictive every time her girlfriend shut her out for the night. Seeking Dane's company — or likely anyone else's if he was too slow to answer her beckons — just so she could return the next morning reeking of him. He'd been more than happy to be used by her. To let her rip and claw at him in her hungry hunt for vengeance. To suffer the bared teeth and curled lip she pressed in the space between his neck and shoulder; the furthest thing from the soft, adoring touch she reserved for someone else. It suited him just fine. And now she was dead in the street. He should have left her alone. Let her sweat out her frustrations with someone else. [break][break]
"Nah... nothing like that," he returned the bottle to his lips and pinched his eyes shut as he tipped it back, forcing himself to gulp greedily despite the burn. When he let it fall back to his lap, he shook his head and blew out his cheeks with a grimacing cough. "Her only real crime was knowing me." He pushed the heels of his feet into the ground, starting a soft sway in his swing. [break][break]
"My boss," — he could have said father, almost did, but knew he'd loathe the sound of it; knew the word would drip with loathing at the admittance — "Didn't like that I was sleeping with a Gifted." The words still came out undeniably bitter and he huffed a short, derisive breath. "Or more likely, just didn't like I was enjoying myself." He lifted the cigarette and inhaled, flinching as he sucked straight fire from the filter. He lowered the finished butt to his lap and dropped his gaze to study its scorched end; smashing it between his fingers, unraveling the paper, and picking apart the yellowed material within. "Anyway, it all boiled down to me or her. And I chose me." [break][break]
He flicked the cigarette away and shot Nick a sneaking grin that lacked any true amusement. "I'm selfish like that." He sucked in a breath and lifted his hands to grip the chains on either side of him, tipping his head to peer up the starless sky. "I'll get it over it, though." He attempted to make his voice lighter, less troubled, and sighed airily. "She was just a girl. There'll be better fights and better fucks tomorrow and I'll forget about it." [break][break]
Or, at least, until the next time Antonio decided he was having a bit too much fun. There would always be a next time. Up until his stupid, disgusting tattoo covered the entirety of him or he let his father win and died.
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