Never exactly had a moment to think about it before either.
[ he looks evan's way and huffs a tired laugh. ]
Ruined a lot of shit I would've liked to keep.
[ a lot of bloody and torn clothes courtesy of evan, and david wears nice clothes. it's always a shame to say goodbye to one of those shirts or jackets or whatever, but what's he gonna do? only wear durable clothes just in case he bumps into evan? ]
[ david doesn't question it, but that doesn't make evan feel any better. he keeps staring at nothing, wanting to kick david out but knowing it'll just make him look even stupider. even less like the man he's supposed to be. but letting him stay is almost as bad. every passing second makes him angrier, and he doesn't want to realize why.
he tries to focus on the basic shit. ruined clothes. because of him. fuck. ]
Don't spend so much cash on that shit if it's so important. Not like you can't buy more.
[ he's already said that. but it's true, isn't it? both of them have more money than they know what to do with. evan just doesn't spend his often, because he has no life outside what his father wants.
[ david rolls his eyes, reaches for the edge of the counter to pull himself up onto his feet with a quiet noise of complaint. the adrenaline's wearing off, the tiredness (and alcohol) is catching up. but he's putting pieces together, slowly. things about the way he's been acting that have been off and poorly explained. ]
[ he stares down at a bottle of vodka, wondering if more booze is a good idea. ]
[ for a few long seconds, evan doesn't move, watching david suspiciously but only looking at his face - and even then, not for very long. he thinks that maybe david's going to try and brain him with the vodka bottle, and slowly pushes himself up, nearly hitting the floor again as he goes.
his approach is unsteady, and he keeps more distance than he might otherwise, glancing at the whiskey in case he needs a weapon. he won't be able to dodge great, but david probably won't be able to swing well, either. ]
[ admittedly it's curiosity more than desire (because of course there's none of that, that would be crazy,) as things slowly start to slot into place. things he might've noticed sooner if he wasn't drunk, things he definitely would've picked up on straight away if evan wasn't a man. the way he practically recoiled at accidentally touching david's chest, little flare ups of anger that made no sense, even for him. his absolutely insane rage over david taking his shirt off. ]
[ either he's wrong and evan tries to kick his shit in, or he's right and... well, he's right. either way that's a win, surely. ]
[ the distance is a little frustrating, but it's still a small room and david is quick. mostly for his own benefit, because god forbid he take a moment to think about what he's doing before he snaps an arm out to try and grab evan by the front of his shirt and pull him into a rough kiss. ]
[ david's so casual about it - about everything - that evan doesn't realize he was still paying attention. he thought he'd deflected. maybe that's the alcohol, making him stupid. maybe he's just stupid.
either way, he doesn't expect it at all when david grabs his shirt and drags him in - not for a punch, which he's about five seconds behind on defending himself against, but a kiss, which he's got no defenses for.
he's frozen for a long few seconds, everything in him grinding to a halt. then he grabs david's arm, his shoulder, ready to throw him on the floor and beat the shit out of him. but he never quite gets that far. this time it probably is the alcohol holding him back, because it's not the kiss he was expecting, not what he's ever gotten.
his grip shudders against david, and then he's returning the kiss. badly, inexpertly, like the last time he kissed someone was a decade ago, but it's not the instant violence half of him wants to dish out. it's not what any part of him expected.
it's not bad. and that's what gets him in the end. that he wants more of it. ]
[ violence is what david expects, braces himself for when he feels evan's hand on his shoulder, but it never comes. and david didn't really... think that far ahead. didn't think at all if he's really honest about it. so he was right? what now? ]
[ maybe it's the fact that there's something oddly charming about the way evan kisses him back, maybe it's the alcohol making him soft. easily taken in by something that even halfway approaches affection, even if he's the one who initiated it. ]
[ fuck it. he'll just go with it. if evan's not complaining, what's the harm, right? he lets go of evan's shirt, lets that hand move to the side of evan's neck, the other he brings to evan's hip as he tries to turn them and push evan back against the counter. ]
[ for a few brief seconds there's no world outside what he can feel, which is small, strangely comforting, close to something he never thought he'd get. he doesn't argue with david or push him back when his grip moves, or when he's moved - right up until his lower back hits the counter and wakes him up.
the panic slams into him in an instant and he shoves david back suddenly, not letting him go but breaking the kiss abruptly. for the first time maybe ever, the terror, the panic, is clear on his face for longer than a split second as he realizes even through the alcohol just what he's doing.
his fingers stay curled against david's skin, but he can't find the words for a while. long enough that it might be weird. he could blame david, but he also didn't punch him out right away. ]
[ david moves with the shove, but it doesn't put any real distance between them. evan's hands are still on him, so david keeps his where they are in turn. ]
[ it's far enough for him to see the panic in evan's expression. the terror and the weak way he asks what he's doing that feels much too familiar because how many times has that been him? abruptly pulling his hand away in the park, dodging a quick kiss in the dark. ]
[ last week on evan's couch. ]
[ years and years of dancing around this shit until he decided it was better not to even try indulging at all. it makes something in him twist until it just about snaps. he's given up so much, cut away so many pieces of himself for this life because that's what was asked. what was needed. why can't he have something he might actually fucking enjoy? even if it's with someone he hates and who hates him, at least they'll have something in common other than misery and anger and bloodshed, right? ]
[ of course, david is much too drunk to even try articulating any of that, and what comes out is a confused: ] Ain't this what you want?
[ there hasn't been much room in evan's life for actual emotional maturity. it makes it hard to grasp this. especially given that by now the alcohol has taken hold, as if he forgot his own limits for once.
the panic closes off because david's expression doesn't change except to be a little more confused, and because he can't show weakness, right? he can't let that panic be obvious. even though it's been obvious from the start, probably.
anger is so much easier. anger and rage and offense, all the things he can let his fists take control of.
is this what he wants? yes. that's the heart of the problem. but is anybody else here? anybody else watching? how is david going to try and blackmail him with this when it'll get him at the same time?
evan's confused and angry and drunk, and he wants to let this keep going. so instead of responding, which would be difficult for him even if he wasn't smashed, he shoves david back, follows as he goes, shoves him against the far wall and starts the kiss again, as hard and rough as before but this time his hands aren't allergic to david's bare chest. ]
[ david has some complaints about being shoved like this, but that falls by the wayside a little when his back hits the wall and suddenly evan's kissing him again. touching him, which david has significantly less complaints about. ]
[ he leans into it, kissing evan back just as hard and rough, the hand at evan's hip sliding under his shirt, around to his back. he's not exactly a fan of being pinned against the wall like this-- well, that's not exactly true, but either way it can wait a little, he decides, using that hand to pull evan closer instead. ]
[ he shouldn't be doing this and he knows it, even drunk as he is. but that's the point of getting drunk, isn't it? the actual point. doing stupid shit. losing control in a more socially acceptable way than beating someone to death. he hates david and he hates this, but that gives it all a more desperate edge.
he snarls something wordless into the kiss when david gets a hand on his back but doesn't do anything else, except keep his hands moving across the scars on david's chest, the tattoos where they are, the muscles, anything. whatever he can get his hands on.
he pushes david back harder against the wall, a knee finding its way between his, grinding against him to get any kind of sensation going. it's not going to take long. even drunk as he is, he knows that, and the alcohol leaves a haze that makes that just a slight hurdle instead of something embarrassing to realize. ]
[ david leans back against the wall, uses it for leverage to grind a little harder against evan. similarly, it's not going to take long for things to move, drunk and angry and wound up as he is, but it's barely even on his mind right now. ]
[ he's far more interested in pushing evan's shirt up as much as he can, bunching it up under his arms so he has space to drag his hands along his skin, feeling out the curves and lines of his muscles and the dips and bumps of his scars. ]
[ there's more scars on his back than on his front, or anywhere else - a lot more, less obvious lower down but still significant. david's roaming hands make him clamp his elbows against his ribs, to keep the shirt from getting too much higher. it's a habit. he wouldn't be able to explain it accurately if asked why. especially not now that he's this drunk.
it's the most he prevents, though, not stopping david's hands from moving or him from grinding back or even breaking the kiss except to bite a little more. this almost seems like enough. like if he just goes far enough he'll be able to get off and not worry about anything else, at least for as long as it takes him to sober up. he manages to get a hand down to david's belt, but that's where it stops, unncertain. as if even drunk he's not sure if he actually wants to take it this far. ]
[ it's a little confusing, the way evan stops him pushing his shirt up too far, but david doesn't fight it. doesn't push him. bites him back, growls into the kiss, drags blunt nails down evan's back like he can't decide if he wants to feel him out or tear him open. ]
[ and then evan hesitates. david can't really blame him, part of him would too if he allowed himself even a second to think about what he's doing, but he doesn't. takes that hesitation as an opportunity to turn this around, pushes evan back to turn them around and shove evan against the wall. he moves quick, in his head it's to beat out evan's hesitation, his temper, but in reality it's probably more for his own benefit. because the second he actually thinks about what the fuck he's doing, he's done. he has to stop. leave. get the fuck away and never think about this again. ]
[ like evan moments earlier, david drops his hands to evan's belt, but he doesn't stop. lets that brash nature of his cover for uncertainty like he always has in every other moment of his life, especially when he sinks to his knees, eyes forward instead of chancing a glance up at evan's face, focused on undoing his belt and pants because if he's gonna do this, he might as well do one of the things he actually fucking misses. ]
[ david pushes him back, distracting him. he loses his grip on his belt but when he hits the wall, their positions reversed, he's ready to be angry again. ready to fight. ready to get them both on the floor, brawling for dominance.
that only lasts about as long as it takes for david to drop to his knees, and suddenly all the anger evaporates - well, most of it - because even if he hates david he also recognizes who's the one on his knees, and knows what that means he's planning on. he doesn't argue or fight when david pulls at his belt, his zipper, tugs at his pants. instead his hands move almost of their own accord, almost to help. not that david needs it.
the anxiety and uncertainty are still there, crowding at the forefront of his mind, but they're fighting the alcohol and the sudden lust that surged up out of the darkness. and right now, those are both a lot more powerful. ]
[ it's been a long time since he's done this, not that it's exactly difficult or complicated to do, but it's still a bit of a shock to the system once he finally manages to get everything open and ends up eye-to-eye, as it were, with evan's dick. ]
[ he does hesitate briefly, just a moment before he's taking evan into his mouth with a low, quiet noise. one hand braced at evan's hip, the other wrapped around him while david slowly gets started. ]
[ this isn't unfamiliar. he might, if he tries, forget who it is that's doing it, but that's hard to do because even if his whole body both seizes up and then relaxes, even if he hits his head against the wall a little too hard, even if his eyes shut and he tries to breathe normally, he can feel david's hand hand on his hip. around him. hear him, faint though it is.
and feel how short his hair is when evan's own hands, almost without him realizing it, find their way into his hair, curling against his scalp, trying to grab what isn't really there to grab. it's fine. he still tries. and he doesn't argue, or fight, or make some kind of comment. he's too drunk for that anyway. ]
[ he was expecting evan to try and control this somehow, so it's a welcome surprise that it seems like he's going to let david set the pace here. that's what he assumes until he feels fingers in his hair, goes still for a second until it registers that there's no attempt to pull him, at least not yet. notes too, the lack of shitty comment, which david sure as hell isn't going to complain about. ]
[ he's not looking to be here a long time, picking up the pace once he gets comfortable, uses his hand to work what he can't reach with his mouth. a couple of involuntary noises slip out; soft groans that hint that this is doing plenty for david, even if he's not actively getting off on it. ]
[ evan's not unfamiliar with this, despite everything, so he knows pretty quickly that this - isn't bad. even drunk, he won't say it's good, at least not yet. not while the anger and adrenaline are still simmering under everything. not while he can remember it's david king doing this.
it pisses him off somewhere deep inside that it is david king doing this. that the time when he finally lets those walls collapse it's with him, of all people. but who else was it ever going to be? nobody else can be trusted not to rat him out or spread stories. david's got as much at stake as he does. he knows that much at this point.
his grip in david's hair tightens because despite what he might be thinking, what his body knows is closer to accurate. he lets out a slow, careful breath, refusing to make a real sound but the way he shifts closer to david, the way his fingers curl and clutch, tell another story.
it's not going to be more than a few minutes here, but he's got enough stamina, even drunk, to hold up. for the moment. ]
[ david makes a disgruntled noise at the way evan's grip tightens in his hair, tenses briefly and contemplates reaching up to grab his wrist and try to pull it away, but he thinks that would probably interrupt things here. besides which, there's something satisfying in getting that response, especially considering evan insists on being a stoic fuck about the whole thing. ]
[ stubbornly, he doesn't let his thoughts drift anywhere else. (probably because he'd have a panic attack if he did and that's the last thing anyone wants to do with a dick in their mouth.) focuses on the sensation of evan in his mouth instead, on listening to him breathe. moves a little faster, silently wishes he could take him deeper and then tries not to wonder why the fuck he thought that. ]
[ thoughts, good and bad, are rapidly evaporating in evan's head. he may not be able to ignore where he is and who's doing this, but he can ignore everything else in favor of what he's feeling.
his hips press a little more against david, trying to get more but not with any real intent. he's too drunk to be that demanding. he makes a thin, hoarse noise, something more a breath than a sound, his breathing troubled and his legs ready to give out if he lets them. his fingers tighten and loosen their grip, but there's less of the latter than the former as david keeps going.
he only lasts a few minutes before he makes a sharper sound - actually a sound, but nothing that anyone's going to hear through the walls - and his fingers scrape hard against david's scalp as he comes. he's not letting him go, at the very least, not until he's good and done. ]
[ he's paying enough attention that he recognises the noise for what it is and tries to pull back before evan finishes, uses the hand he has curled around his hip to shove him back, but there's just not much space or time for him to work with there. maybe he should've been more assertive about keeping evan's hands out of his hair, but his attention was elsewhere. extremely focused on it, in fact. he's not going to think about it. ]
[ nor is he going to stay here on his knees forever. he can reason that having the taste in his mouth is better than having the smell on his skin, but beyond making evan come, david doesn't really care about his part in this. barely even waits for him to finish before he pulls back more aggressively this time, if evan's grip is still tight enough for him to lose some hair, david doesn't even seem to care about it. ]
[ he pushes up to his feet and ambles toward the sink so he can spit in it, pours himself a fresh glass of liquor to gargle and spit that too. and then drink the rest. ]
[ evan manages to stay up when david pulls away, but only out of sheer, overwhelming spite against not just david, but the whole world. he leans his head back against the wall and catches his breath, opening his eyes in time to see david spit in the sink.
that he did it in the sink irritates him more than that he did it at all, but he's too drunk and blitzed out of his mind to make a serious complaint. he just glowers, and after a few long seconds realizes his dick is still out and pulls himself back together.
he does up his belt and then he realizes what just happened, which leaves him a little more sober than he was before. he has no idea what to do, or say. nothing in him wants to return the favor, but a part of him feels like now he owes david. which is stupid. he didn't make any demands. david did all that on his own. ]
[ for some moments, david's fairly satisfied with everything, a job well done, etc. but that fades pretty fucking fast. he sees evan out of the corner of his eye and wonders why he did that, why he just did any of this. what, some guy finds out he likes dick and that's enough for him to get on his knees and open wide? ]
[ david puts the empty glass down, trying not to look as shaken as he feels, which really isn't helped any by the discomfort of being hard as hell in his pants, but it'll go away. ]
[ wordlessly, he grabs his shirt off the side and pulls it back on. they're probably done here, he can't imagine evan's gonna want him to stick around at all and fuck knows david wants to get as far away from here as fucking possible as soon as possible. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
no subject
[ he looks evan's way and huffs a tired laugh. ]
Ruined a lot of shit I would've liked to keep.
[ a lot of bloody and torn clothes courtesy of evan, and david wears nice clothes. it's always a shame to say goodbye to one of those shirts or jackets or whatever, but what's he gonna do? only wear durable clothes just in case he bumps into evan? ]
no subject
he tries to focus on the basic shit. ruined clothes. because of him. fuck. ]
Don't spend so much cash on that shit if it's so important. Not like you can't buy more.
[ he's already said that. but it's true, isn't it? both of them have more money than they know what to do with. evan just doesn't spend his often, because he has no life outside what his father wants.
well. not much of one, anyway. ]
no subject
[ he stares down at a bottle of vodka, wondering if more booze is a good idea. ]
... Can you come here a sec?
no subject
his approach is unsteady, and he keeps more distance than he might otherwise, glancing at the whiskey in case he needs a weapon. he won't be able to dodge great, but david probably won't be able to swing well, either. ]
no subject
[ either he's wrong and evan tries to kick his shit in, or he's right and... well, he's right. either way that's a win, surely. ]
[ the distance is a little frustrating, but it's still a small room and david is quick. mostly for his own benefit, because god forbid he take a moment to think about what he's doing before he snaps an arm out to try and grab evan by the front of his shirt and pull him into a rough kiss. ]
no subject
either way, he doesn't expect it at all when david grabs his shirt and drags him in - not for a punch, which he's about five seconds behind on defending himself against, but a kiss, which he's got no defenses for.
he's frozen for a long few seconds, everything in him grinding to a halt. then he grabs david's arm, his shoulder, ready to throw him on the floor and beat the shit out of him. but he never quite gets that far. this time it probably is the alcohol holding him back, because it's not the kiss he was expecting, not what he's ever gotten.
his grip shudders against david, and then he's returning the kiss. badly, inexpertly, like the last time he kissed someone was a decade ago, but it's not the instant violence half of him wants to dish out. it's not what any part of him expected.
it's not bad. and that's what gets him in the end. that he wants more of it. ]
no subject
[ maybe it's the fact that there's something oddly charming about the way evan kisses him back, maybe it's the alcohol making him soft. easily taken in by something that even halfway approaches affection, even if he's the one who initiated it. ]
[ fuck it. he'll just go with it. if evan's not complaining, what's the harm, right? he lets go of evan's shirt, lets that hand move to the side of evan's neck, the other he brings to evan's hip as he tries to turn them and push evan back against the counter. ]
no subject
the panic slams into him in an instant and he shoves david back suddenly, not letting him go but breaking the kiss abruptly. for the first time maybe ever, the terror, the panic, is clear on his face for longer than a split second as he realizes even through the alcohol just what he's doing.
his fingers stay curled against david's skin, but he can't find the words for a while. long enough that it might be weird. he could blame david, but he also didn't punch him out right away. ]
The fuck are you doing?
[ it sounds weak even to him. ]
no subject
[ it's far enough for him to see the panic in evan's expression. the terror and the weak way he asks what he's doing that feels much too familiar because how many times has that been him? abruptly pulling his hand away in the park, dodging a quick kiss in the dark. ]
[ last week on evan's couch. ]
[ years and years of dancing around this shit until he decided it was better not to even try indulging at all. it makes something in him twist until it just about snaps. he's given up so much, cut away so many pieces of himself for this life because that's what was asked. what was needed. why can't he have something he might actually fucking enjoy? even if it's with someone he hates and who hates him, at least they'll have something in common other than misery and anger and bloodshed, right? ]
[ of course, david is much too drunk to even try articulating any of that, and what comes out is a confused: ] Ain't this what you want?
no subject
the panic closes off because david's expression doesn't change except to be a little more confused, and because he can't show weakness, right? he can't let that panic be obvious. even though it's been obvious from the start, probably.
anger is so much easier. anger and rage and offense, all the things he can let his fists take control of.
is this what he wants? yes. that's the heart of the problem. but is anybody else here? anybody else watching? how is david going to try and blackmail him with this when it'll get him at the same time?
evan's confused and angry and drunk, and he wants to let this keep going. so instead of responding, which would be difficult for him even if he wasn't smashed, he shoves david back, follows as he goes, shoves him against the far wall and starts the kiss again, as hard and rough as before but this time his hands aren't allergic to david's bare chest. ]
no subject
[ he leans into it, kissing evan back just as hard and rough, the hand at evan's hip sliding under his shirt, around to his back. he's not exactly a fan of being pinned against the wall like this-- well, that's not exactly true, but either way it can wait a little, he decides, using that hand to pull evan closer instead. ]
no subject
he snarls something wordless into the kiss when david gets a hand on his back but doesn't do anything else, except keep his hands moving across the scars on david's chest, the tattoos where they are, the muscles, anything. whatever he can get his hands on.
he pushes david back harder against the wall, a knee finding its way between his, grinding against him to get any kind of sensation going. it's not going to take long. even drunk as he is, he knows that, and the alcohol leaves a haze that makes that just a slight hurdle instead of something embarrassing to realize. ]
no subject
[ he's far more interested in pushing evan's shirt up as much as he can, bunching it up under his arms so he has space to drag his hands along his skin, feeling out the curves and lines of his muscles and the dips and bumps of his scars. ]
no subject
it's the most he prevents, though, not stopping david's hands from moving or him from grinding back or even breaking the kiss except to bite a little more. this almost seems like enough. like if he just goes far enough he'll be able to get off and not worry about anything else, at least for as long as it takes him to sober up. he manages to get a hand down to david's belt, but that's where it stops, unncertain. as if even drunk he's not sure if he actually wants to take it this far. ]
no subject
[ and then evan hesitates. david can't really blame him, part of him would too if he allowed himself even a second to think about what he's doing, but he doesn't. takes that hesitation as an opportunity to turn this around, pushes evan back to turn them around and shove evan against the wall. he moves quick, in his head it's to beat out evan's hesitation, his temper, but in reality it's probably more for his own benefit. because the second he actually thinks about what the fuck he's doing, he's done. he has to stop. leave. get the fuck away and never think about this again. ]
[ like evan moments earlier, david drops his hands to evan's belt, but he doesn't stop. lets that brash nature of his cover for uncertainty like he always has in every other moment of his life, especially when he sinks to his knees, eyes forward instead of chancing a glance up at evan's face, focused on undoing his belt and pants because if he's gonna do this, he might as well do one of the things he actually fucking misses. ]
no subject
that only lasts about as long as it takes for david to drop to his knees, and suddenly all the anger evaporates - well, most of it - because even if he hates david he also recognizes who's the one on his knees, and knows what that means he's planning on. he doesn't argue or fight when david pulls at his belt, his zipper, tugs at his pants. instead his hands move almost of their own accord, almost to help. not that david needs it.
the anxiety and uncertainty are still there, crowding at the forefront of his mind, but they're fighting the alcohol and the sudden lust that surged up out of the darkness. and right now, those are both a lot more powerful. ]
no subject
[ he does hesitate briefly,
just a moment before he's taking evan into his mouth with a low, quiet noise. one hand braced at evan's hip, the other wrapped around him while david slowly gets started. ]
no subject
and feel how short his hair is when evan's own hands, almost without him realizing it, find their way into his hair, curling against his scalp, trying to grab what isn't really there to grab. it's fine. he still tries. and he doesn't argue, or fight, or make some kind of comment. he's too drunk for that anyway. ]
no subject
going to complain about. ]
[ he's not looking to be here a long time, picking up the pace once he gets comfortable, uses his hand to work what he can't reach with his mouth. a couple of involuntary noises slip out; soft groans that hint that this is doing plenty for david, even if he's not actively getting off on it. ]
no subject
it pisses him off somewhere deep inside that it is david king doing this. that the time when he finally lets those walls collapse it's with him, of all people. but who else was it ever going to be? nobody else can be trusted not to rat him out or spread stories. david's got as much at stake as he does. he knows that much at this point.
his grip in david's hair tightens because despite what he might be thinking, what his body knows is closer to accurate. he lets out a slow, careful breath, refusing to make a real sound but the way he shifts closer to david, the way his fingers curl and clutch, tell another story.
it's not going to be more than a few minutes here, but he's got enough stamina, even drunk, to hold up. for the moment. ]
no subject
[ stubbornly, he doesn't let his thoughts drift anywhere else. (probably because he'd have a panic attack if he did and that's the last thing anyone wants to do with a dick in their mouth.) focuses on the sensation of evan in his mouth instead, on listening to him breathe. moves a little faster, silently wishes he could take him deeper and then tries not to wonder why the fuck he thought that. ]
no subject
his hips press a little more against david, trying to get more but not with any real intent. he's too drunk to be that demanding. he makes a thin, hoarse noise, something more a breath than a sound, his breathing troubled and his legs ready to give out if he lets them. his fingers tighten and loosen their grip, but there's less of the latter than the former as david keeps going.
he only lasts a few minutes before he makes a sharper sound - actually a sound, but nothing that anyone's going to hear through the walls - and his fingers scrape hard against david's scalp as he comes. he's not letting him go, at the very least, not until he's good and done. ]
no subject
[ nor is he going to stay here on his knees forever. he can reason that having the taste in his mouth is better than having the smell on his skin, but beyond making evan come, david doesn't really care about his part in this. barely even waits for him to finish before he pulls back more aggressively this time, if evan's grip is still tight enough for him to lose some hair, david doesn't even seem to care about it. ]
[ he pushes up to his feet and ambles toward the sink so he can spit in it, pours himself a fresh glass of liquor to gargle and spit that too. and then drink the rest. ]
no subject
that he did it in the sink irritates him more than that he did it at all, but he's too drunk and blitzed out of his mind to make a serious complaint. he just glowers, and after a few long seconds realizes his dick is still out and pulls himself back together.
he does up his belt and then he realizes what just happened, which leaves him a little more sober than he was before. he has no idea what to do, or say. nothing in him wants to return the favor, but a part of him feels like now he owes david. which is stupid. he didn't make any demands. david did all that on his own. ]
no subject
[ david puts the empty glass down, trying not to look as shaken as he feels, which really isn't helped any by the discomfort of being hard as hell in his pants, but it'll go away. ]
[ wordlessly, he grabs his shirt off the side and pulls it back on. they're probably done here, he can't imagine evan's gonna want him to stick around at all and fuck knows david wants to get as far away from here as fucking possible as soon as possible. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)