[ he should. he should regret it. he would think anyone with even an ounce of sanity left in them would feel like they made a bad choice there, hooking up with someone on their side of the fence, but once he'd sat down and tried to get his head straight about it, that really wasn't the part of it that bothered him. and the other shit was, well. it's hard to face someone when you're hopped up on your own internalised bullshit combined with a need to fight just about everyone and everything that can't ever really be sated, and then you turn around and let them fuck you without even a little pushback. ]
[ but — and he'd never admit it out loud, and definitely not to evan — it was kind of nice to just let go of all that for a little bit. helps that evan doesn't give a shit about him in a really weird, fucked up kind of way. that's why people go to him, he guesses. ]
Nah.
[ he says it after a long, thoughtful pause, lifts his drink to his lips and then pauses with a breath of a laugh when something else occurs to him. ]
Well-- could've done with more than just a little spit.
[ who knew someone could be thankful to get called to trial just because it meant their ass wouldn't be sore anymore and the bruises would be gone. ]
[ he accepts that without a question - no regrets means it's a non-zero chance of happening again, and he'll take a distraction without thinking if the opportunity's there - and lets the whiskey burn its way through him. less, now, since he's already had enough to set the burn to numbness, to make the anger settle down into a seethe instead of an almost-boil.
the following comment, though, makes him almost laugh. he smirks against the cup, watching david a little more intently than before. ]
We'd gone into the workshop, you woulda had more.
[ not necessarily something any sane person would consider using, but consequences are light, here. ]
But you didn't wanna wait. Figure I coulda bent you over something out in the open and you wouldn't be complainin' 'til now.
[ he's not complaining, either. he doesn't care who knows what he does with survivors - well, mostly he doesn't care. ]
[ there isn't much that can fluster david, but that sure does it. it's not much, a cough when his surprise makes a little whiskey go down wrong, a momentary freeze with a brief wide-eyed look. the sort of thing it'd be easy to brush over and recover from if this were a group conversation and not one-on-one. ]
[ he coughs again, thumps his chest with a fist, and gives evan a withering look like he did that on purpose. ]
That-- [ voice a little raw, he points with one of the fingers curled around his whiskey jar for emphasis. ] you would've heard a lot from me about.
[ it's an... interesting mental image, and if it pops into david's head later nobody needs to know about it, but there's just no way he wouldn't raise hell about it. there's a lot to be said for the illusion of privacy afforded by just a few rickety walls. ]
Just didn't wanna bottle it. I mean no offence but I wasn't entirely convinced I weren't gonna come away bleedin' out my backside.
[ evan's clearly amused by the reaction - his smirk is a little wider, the look in his eyes less murderous than usual. david's never been the sort to back off or fluster, so watching him almost choke over one sentence is worth keeping in mind.
he throws back half the whiskey instead of replying immediately, and shrugs at the followup. it's possible, but ... ]
Live and learn. I try not to break you anyone the first time around.
So you're saying I should be worried about next time.
[ david snorts and shakes his head, follows suit and tips back the rest of his drink. one would hope he's not quite that bad on a second go around, but honestly evan's hard to read even without the mask. ]
[ david leans back in the chair and props a foot up on the edge of the console without thinking, looking up at evan and giving him a considering look. that sounds like him, which is why he usually leaves his phone in someone else's care when he drinks. ]
[ evan meets the look, smirk faded to something less gloating. he sets down the mug on the other side of david's leg, not making a comment about that particular invasion of his space, and considers the options they have.
neither one of them is drunk enough to do anything really stupid, he figures, although that's never stopped david before (or him). on the other hand, evan's never been the sort to beat around the bush, unless it comes to attempting to grasp his own emotional state or getting someone to admit they liked killing him. ]
How drunk are you?
[ barely, would be his guess. he can barely even feel what he drank, but there's more of him to slow down. ]
[ he might not be as big as evan, but david has a pretty robust alcohol tolerance. it's not as strong as it was before this place, but you don't just lose fifteen odd years of heavy drinking under your belt. ]
[ it means he has enough clarity here that he's pretty sure he's reading the change in the vibe here correctly, which makes david pause for just a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips while he thinks about how to proceed. and then he smirks, almost in response to evan's fading, and raises an eyebrow at him. ]
Course, you know me well enough to know I don't have to be drunk to make a stupid decision.
[ he's pretty sure one might argue that's about 90% of what david does, in fact. ]
[ the response he get is enough that he reaches for his mask, but rests his hand on it instead of picking it up. ]
No. Figure that's where you start.
[ he could keep going - suggest that it takes more effort for david not to make the most dangerous choice possible than for anyone else - but he's not looking for a fight, at least not at this second. the smirk, the lack of withdrawing or anxiety, the fact that david hasn't moved his legs ... those suggest to evan that the proposition he hasn't actually made yet isn't going to get shot down. ]
Got somethin' that'd help if you can actually make it to the workshop.
[ david finds that extremely funny, giving it a couple seconds' thought before he figures why the fuck not? grabs the bottle and the cups to put them back in the bag and pushes away from the console with his leg. ]
[ david gathers his things, and pushes away from the console, and that's all evan needs for assent, really. he's not going to demand an actual spoken agreement. it kind of ruins the spontaneity for him.
he pulls his mask back on and heads downstairs. better to go from inside, just in case someone's watching, and ideally they'll be waiting at the back as they go out the front.
he leads david back to the workshop the long way. no shortcuts, no untrapped paths; he steps over and around traps on the way, revealing where they are - but that might not be quite as bad a move as it seems. he doesn't try to trick david into stepping into one, funny as that would be, because it'd kill the mood faster than david killed him.
it's just another normal path, not one he would ever take himself normally when there's so many better ways to go that he does not want people knowing about. it leads to the mine, and down toward the workshop, where he steps over the traps on the way.
no point in picking them up. david's not the only trespasser, much to evan's perpetual rage. ]
[ david follows, watching where evan steps and then following suit. unfussed about the longer route, if it means they're less likely to be seen, he's more than fine with it, not nearly impatient enough to complain about it. having a guide means it's probably faster than he'd be on his own anyway. ]
[ it's also a relief that evan doesn't trick him into stepping in any, because as closely as he's watching he'd probably still fall for it right now. ]
[ once they reach the workshop, david sets his bag down by the door, just kind of... stands there for a minute. it's weird to be here with (kind of) permission. weird to be here with evan, who he hasn't really figured out how to approach. it was easier last time, when things were sudden and unexpected. ]
[ and that contemplation is why david catches up that small bit of distance between them, so he can put a hand on his side to nudge evan to turn around and then push him back toward the nearest surface. ]
[ it's frustrating how easy it is to get used to someone trespassing on his property, especially private property like the inside of his workshop, but for all the rage he's resigned himself to it, mostly. nothing stops survivors, even death. maybe inviting them in will make it lose the appeal of breaking in. it depends on what they want - if it's to piss him off it might work, and if it's to steal it won't.
but david's not here for either, although pissing him off is pretty much the standard. evan unhooks his cleaver from his belt and sets it against a stack of crates, pauses to look around for what he was planning to get when a hand lands on him, tugs him around, and suddenly it's david pushing him back toward a workbench.
he could ignore it, but ... he lets himself be nudged until his lower back hits the table, watching david carefully through the mask. he rests his hands on the workbench's edge, a little curious but, as always, ready to fight if things turn.
not that he expects them to just now. not when there's something almost as interesting to think about. ]
[ oh, he forgot about the mask. that's fine though. david pushes forward, crowding evan's body with his own, one hand down on the table behind them as david leans up into him, bodies flush at least for a moment. ]
[ his other hand, david lifts like he intends to try and push the mask off, but he thinks better of it at the last moment and puts his hand on evan's neck instead, thumb braced against the line of his jaw. tilts his head up to graze his teeth along his skin, bites at the flesh at the corner of his jaw, sucks a mark that won't last (if he can even make one to begin with) onto his skin. ]
[ evan watches david and wonders what, exactly, he's up to. if this is a prelude to a knife in the throat, or if he's just being paranoid. if this is really just a stupid decision with a short physical benefit - but one he's gotten used to having, from time to time.
there's a moment of tension as david's hand goes for his mask, but it moves, touches his neck - not a whole lot better, really - and tilts his head up. his fingers tighten around the edge of the workbench until he feels david's teeth instead of the metal he was almost expecting. a bite. a mark. the thing he does to them, done - for the first time in a long, long time, possibly forever - to him.
it's not bad, he thinks idly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he doesn't try to put distance between them. ]
That's almost romantic.
[ said sardonically, knowing that neither one of them is aiming for that - and in evan's case probably isn't capable of it. ]
[ it's kind of interesting, to be this close he can feel the ebb and flow of tension and paranoia in evan. david would think he's been consistently straightforward enough in just about all respects that the expectation of an attack is almost a little insulting, he's never exactly been one to bullshit his intentions. not outside a trial anyway. but then again, if their positions were reversed, david wouldn't exactly let his guard down easy either. a survivor would have to be more cunning than a killer on their own turf. ]
[ why he'd bother with all this is another question, but david also finds himself wondering how often it's happened to him. how many people have come out here ostensibly to fuck and attacked the bastard when his pants were down instead. ]
[ he's busy thinking on that when evan speaks, and the laughter that pulls out of david comes as a rush of breath through his nose. ]
Yeah?
[ he lifts his head just a little, nose pressed against his neck still, lips still close enough that the movement when he speaks can probably be felt. ]
It romantic when you bit the shit outta my neck?
[ punctuated with a sharper bite, just below the first. david's not mad about it (anymore,) but it strikes him as a particularly funny thing for a guy with an apparent fondness for biting people to say. ]
[ there's no romance in evan; maybe there was, fifteen or twenty years ago, but it's long since gone, shriveled into nothing even before the fog. but the idea isn't lost on him, nor is the way survivors manage to keep their heads above water by getting involved, and not just the way they get involved with him.
it's why he makes the joke. why he snorts with laughter when david makes it right back. ]
Nah. Different when I do it.
[ he won't elaborate, partly because he might not be able to. at least not in a way that won't get him punched. it's possessive, proprietary - a reminder of the fact that even if they're not fighting for survival, he's still the most dangerous thing around them.
reasonably certain david's not about to go for the throat more than he already is, evan relaxes minutely. lets one hand pull away from the table to get a hold on david's hip. not a grab, or anything that might bruise, but it's firm enough. keeping him in place. letting him bite, the pain that comes with sharpness less than it should be thanks to the burns and scars. it still sends something spiking through him, but it's probably not as definite as it when their positions are reversed. ]
Guess I ... shouldn't be surprised you're into it.
[ more similarities. that should probably concern him, except he's not paying attention to that. ]
[ david huffs against evan's neck, a quick laugh and a murmur of 'of course' when he says it's different, and nips again at that patch of skin. he doesn't think about it too much, how... dangerously close they are right now to something crazy like getting along and having a good time here. ]
[ similar at his second comment, david just makes an affirmative noise against his skin, uses the hand on his hip as encouragement to put more weight down on the table and lean harder against evan. no need to make shit messy thinking about what's similar between them. at least if they're similar enough here then it means this will probably not be awful. not that it was last time, but he's had a lot of disappointing second goes. ]
[ the hand david had at evan's neck he moves down, employing the definitely tactical decision to use his right hand to fumble open the buckle on his waders — whatever the situation with the way the other side is all tangled up in his... pieces. his shrapnel. david isn't gonna deal with that — so he has a little more space to drag his hand down to his chest, wondering how long it takes before evan's impatience gets the better of him here. ]
[ he bears the pressure, the intent, the recognition that david's trying to get one up on him in a way. it's not out of the ordinary. survivors who realize that no, he's not going to kill them when they're done, sometimes go for it. generally he doesn't mind. they never get very far before his patience runs thin.
the one buckle opens easily; it's to both of their benefit that david doesn't even attempt the other, because that'd probably ruin the mood. half the time even evan can't manage to pull it off without pissing himself off. the hand on his chest avoids the scars, the worst of the embedded metal and shrapnel, and so what he can feel is pleasant more than it isn't.
he lets that go on for a bit, letting david leave marks (which should infuriate him) and get his hands wherever they can find unbroken skin, before his grip around david's hip tightens and his other hand comes up to pull the mask off and set it aside - and then find its way into david's hair and, short as it is, get a grip to pull his head back.
it's not intended to be painful, or at least no more than normal. there's no malice in his expression. the patience, as david suspected, just isn't that strong outside a hunt. ]
[ david tips his head back with the pull, looks up at evan with an expression that's just a little smug and extremely amused with himself, and no intention to share why. it's nothing big, just a little confirmation of his ability to read evan even in such a wildly different situation to the usual between them. maybe he should be concerned that he's getting a good enough idea of what the guy's like when it's not just rage and violence to put that together, but, well. neither of them are gonna think over the finer details and what they mean if they don't have to. ]
Not this time.
[ david punctuates with a wink. it's not a 'no, never,' that would be silly when, he's generally far more willing to go down on people than he ever has been to have anything up his ass, but he's not gonna let evan have it that easy. on his terms, sometime in the future, when he can catch him off guard with it maybe. ]
[ he grins, moves his hand to nudge evan with a fist. he really couldn't explain why all this is funny to him, it just is. probably another of those times how fucking bizarre all this is starting to catch up with him. ]
[ it's not a no, but the followup makes evan let out an amused breath - almost a laugh, again. basically a no. that's fine. it's rare he ever expects that, and he's not as violently allergic to give and take as a lot of other killers, at least in regards to this. ]
So when this place collapses into dust.
[ he lets go of david's hair only to step forward, using their closeness and the hold on his hip to make david take a few steps back. toward a different workbench, because he's got way more than necessary. this one's mostly unoccupied except for a few broken pieces of old traps, a bottle of blackening tar, and partly-used tubes of grease used to keep the traps from rusting and make sure the joints snap shut as smoothly as possible.
once they're there, he traps david in as much as david tried to do to him, but he's big enough that it probably feels more effective. it's the same sort of looming he does in trials ... or at least, very close to it, except the murder's muted now.
one hand on the flat table behind david, the other still on david's hip, the light at his back and the whole place still mostly shadows, evan knows he probably looks more threatening than intended. but that's fine. the weapons are just out of reach, even now. and david's never been afraid of him - at least, not for a hell of a while. ]
Turn around or get on the table. [ yes, he'll go for it that abruptly. ] Your choice.
[ david raises his eyebrows as he's pushed backwards as if to say 'i don't know about that', but that's for later. right now he shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it onto the workbench evan was just leaning against as he's backed up against the one opposite, feels the full weight of what it's like to be boxed in like this, though not for the first time. ]
[ there is something menacing about the way the shadows obscure most of his face, but it's not unattractive either. he wonders, in the few moments of quiet, if the other people evan's been with get off on that. on being able to take someone-- something just this side of monstrous and walk away from it. he's had his fair share of partners who definitely took something similar from him, and, if he thinks about it, he's probably not immune to that either. ]
[ those brief thoughts are cut off when he speaks though, and the snort and laugh that comes out of david is more surprise at the abruptness of it than anything. ]
Jesus, alright. [ thinks about it for a second, and then plants his hands on the bench behind himself to hop up on to it. seats himself at the edge like he thinks is probably right and reaches out to grip evan's waders and tug him closer. ]
[ much as evan can understand the uncertainty, the need to pretend this is something other than exactly what it is, even the borderline requirement some survivors have that they "lose", in a sense, in order to justify why this is something they're okay with, if he's got a handle on the situation he's not going to waste time. as david already knows in a number of ways, his patience is short and easy to snap.
he gives david just enough space to get on the table, and then david closes it again, pulling him in. he moves the hand that had a grip on his waist up to david's jaw, tilts his head back the same way david did to him, and then leans in to return the favor he was just getting. a few bites, a few marks, almost mirroring - if unintentionally - the ones david left on him.
the other hand stays between them, finding david's belt and fly and undoing them a little inexpertly. no point in waiting, although he's not going to go right for the end game yet. ]
[ he's gonna be annoyed again about all those marks, but how much can david really complain when he lets his head be tilted so easily, when the way he grunts is just as much pleasure as it is pain and he instinctively brings a hand up to the back of evan's head to encourage him. ]
[ probably not, but that's not going to stop him griping about it later. ]
[ his other hand moves from where he was gripping evan's waders to his side, around to his back, takes a moment and then decides why the fuck not shortly before david pushes his hand down to grab his ass with a particularly satisfied sounding noise. he's never really looked at it before, but it's a good handful. which... makes sense considering the size of the man it belongs to. ]
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hardlydead) wrote2021-11-01 05:44 am
no subject
[ but — and he'd never admit it out loud, and definitely not to evan — it was kind of nice to just let go of all that for a little bit. helps that evan doesn't give a shit about him in a really weird, fucked up kind of way. that's why people go to him, he guesses. ]
Nah.
[ he says it after a long, thoughtful pause, lifts his drink to his lips and then pauses with a breath of a laugh when something else occurs to him. ]
Well-- could've done with more than just a little spit.
[ who knew someone could be thankful to get called to trial just because it meant their ass wouldn't be sore anymore and the bruises would be gone. ]
no subject
the following comment, though, makes him almost laugh. he smirks against the cup, watching david a little more intently than before. ]
We'd gone into the workshop, you woulda had more.
[ not necessarily something any sane person would consider using, but consequences are light, here. ]
But you didn't wanna wait. Figure I coulda bent you over something out in the open and you wouldn't be complainin' 'til now.
[ he's not complaining, either. he doesn't care who knows what he does with survivors - well, mostly he doesn't care. ]
no subject
[ he coughs again, thumps his chest with a fist, and gives evan a withering look like he did that on purpose. ]
That-- [ voice a little raw, he points with one of the fingers curled around his whiskey jar for emphasis. ] you would've heard a lot from me about.
[ it's an... interesting mental image, and if it pops into david's head later nobody needs to know about it, but there's just no way he wouldn't raise hell about it. there's a lot to be said for the illusion of privacy afforded by just a few rickety walls. ]
Just didn't wanna bottle it. I mean no offence but I wasn't entirely convinced I weren't gonna come away bleedin' out my backside.
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he throws back half the whiskey instead of replying immediately, and shrugs at the followup. it's possible, but ... ]
Live and learn. I try not to break you anyone the first time around.
[ not to say the same of the second time. ]
Otherwise none of you'd come back.
[ no regrets, right? ]
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[ david snorts and shakes his head, follows suit and tips back the rest of his drink. one would hope he's not quite that bad on a second go around, but honestly evan's hard to read even without the mask. ]
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Maybe. If there's a next time.
[ he finishes off his drink and, for once not completely inclined to cave david's skull in despite not being injured, shifts against the console. ]
Figure it'll be the next time you get real drunk and make another stupid dare.
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[ david leans back in the chair and props a foot up on the edge of the console without thinking, looking up at evan and giving him a considering look. that sounds like him, which is why he usually leaves his phone in someone else's care when he drinks. ]
Sounds like me.
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neither one of them is drunk enough to do anything really stupid, he figures, although that's never stopped david before (or him). on the other hand, evan's never been the sort to beat around the bush, unless it comes to attempting to grasp his own emotional state or getting someone to admit they liked killing him. ]
How drunk are you?
[ barely, would be his guess. he can barely even feel what he drank, but there's more of him to slow down. ]
no subject
[ he might not be as big as evan, but david has a pretty robust alcohol tolerance. it's not as strong as it was before this place, but you don't just lose fifteen odd years of heavy drinking under your belt. ]
[ it means he has enough clarity here that he's pretty sure he's reading the change in the vibe here correctly, which makes david pause for just a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips while he thinks about how to proceed. and then he smirks, almost in response to evan's fading, and raises an eyebrow at him. ]
Course, you know me well enough to know I don't have to be drunk to make a stupid decision.
[ he's pretty sure one might argue that's about 90% of what david does, in fact. ]
no subject
No. Figure that's where you start.
[ he could keep going - suggest that it takes more effort for david not to make the most dangerous choice possible than for anyone else - but he's not looking for a fight, at least not at this second. the smirk, the lack of withdrawing or anxiety, the fact that david hasn't moved his legs ... those suggest to evan that the proposition he hasn't actually made yet isn't going to get shot down. ]
Got somethin' that'd help if you can actually make it to the workshop.
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[ david finds that extremely funny, giving it a couple seconds' thought before he figures why the fuck not? grabs the bottle and the cups to put them back in the bag and pushes away from the console with his leg. ]
Lead the way.
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he pulls his mask back on and heads downstairs. better to go from inside, just in case someone's watching, and ideally they'll be waiting at the back as they go out the front.
he leads david back to the workshop the long way. no shortcuts, no untrapped paths; he steps over and around traps on the way, revealing where they are - but that might not be quite as bad a move as it seems. he doesn't try to trick david into stepping into one, funny as that would be, because it'd kill the mood faster than david killed him.
it's just another normal path, not one he would ever take himself normally when there's so many better ways to go that he does not want people knowing about. it leads to the mine, and down toward the workshop, where he steps over the traps on the way.
no point in picking them up. david's not the only trespasser, much to evan's perpetual rage. ]
no subject
[ it's also a relief that evan doesn't trick him into stepping in any, because as closely as he's watching he'd probably still fall for it right now. ]
[ once they reach the workshop, david sets his bag down by the door, just kind of... stands there for a minute. it's weird to be here with (kind of) permission. weird to be here with evan, who he hasn't really figured out how to approach. it was easier last time, when things were sudden and unexpected. ]
[ and that contemplation is why david catches up that small bit of distance between them, so he can put a hand on his side to nudge evan to turn around and then push him back toward the nearest surface. ]
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but david's not here for either, although pissing him off is pretty much the standard. evan unhooks his cleaver from his belt and sets it against a stack of crates, pauses to look around for what he was planning to get when a hand lands on him, tugs him around, and suddenly it's david pushing him back toward a workbench.
he could ignore it, but ... he lets himself be nudged until his lower back hits the table, watching david carefully through the mask. he rests his hands on the workbench's edge, a little curious but, as always, ready to fight if things turn.
not that he expects them to just now. not when there's something almost as interesting to think about. ]
no subject
[ his other hand, david lifts like he intends to try and push the mask off, but he thinks better of it at the last moment and puts his hand on evan's neck instead, thumb braced against the line of his jaw. tilts his head up to graze his teeth along his skin, bites at the flesh at the corner of his jaw, sucks a mark that won't last (if he can even make one to begin with) onto his skin. ]
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there's a moment of tension as david's hand goes for his mask, but it moves, touches his neck - not a whole lot better, really - and tilts his head up. his fingers tighten around the edge of the workbench until he feels david's teeth instead of the metal he was almost expecting. a bite. a mark. the thing he does to them, done - for the first time in a long, long time, possibly forever - to him.
it's not bad, he thinks idly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he doesn't try to put distance between them. ]
That's almost romantic.
[ said sardonically, knowing that neither one of them is aiming for that - and in evan's case probably isn't capable of it. ]
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[ why he'd bother with all this is another question, but david also finds himself wondering how often it's happened to him. how many people have come out here ostensibly to fuck and attacked the bastard when his pants were down instead. ]
[ he's busy thinking on that when evan speaks, and the laughter that pulls out of david comes as a rush of breath through his nose. ]
Yeah?
[ he lifts his head just a little, nose pressed against his neck still, lips still close enough that the movement when he speaks can probably be felt. ]
It romantic when you bit the shit outta my neck?
[ punctuated with a sharper bite, just below the first. david's not mad about it (anymore,) but it strikes him as a particularly funny thing for a guy with an apparent fondness for biting people to say. ]
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it's why he makes the joke. why he snorts with laughter when david makes it right back. ]
Nah. Different when I do it.
[ he won't elaborate, partly because he might not be able to. at least not in a way that won't get him punched. it's possessive, proprietary - a reminder of the fact that even if they're not fighting for survival, he's still the most dangerous thing around them.
reasonably certain david's not about to go for the throat more than he already is, evan relaxes minutely. lets one hand pull away from the table to get a hold on david's hip. not a grab, or anything that might bruise, but it's firm enough. keeping him in place. letting him bite, the pain that comes with sharpness less than it should be thanks to the burns and scars. it still sends something spiking through him, but it's probably not as definite as it when their positions are reversed. ]
Guess I ... shouldn't be surprised you're into it.
[ more similarities. that should probably concern him, except he's not paying attention to that. ]
no subject
[ similar at his second comment, david just makes an affirmative noise against his skin, uses the hand on his hip as encouragement to put more weight down on the table and lean harder against evan. no need to make shit messy thinking about what's similar between them. at least if they're similar enough here then it means this will probably not be awful. not that it was last time, but he's had a lot of disappointing second goes. ]
[ the hand david had at evan's neck he moves down, employing the definitely tactical decision to use his right hand to fumble open the buckle on his waders — whatever the situation with the way the other side is all tangled up in his... pieces. his shrapnel. david isn't gonna deal with that — so he has a little more space to drag his hand down to his chest, wondering how long it takes before evan's impatience gets the better of him here. ]
no subject
the one buckle opens easily; it's to both of their benefit that david doesn't even attempt the other, because that'd probably ruin the mood. half the time even evan can't manage to pull it off without pissing himself off. the hand on his chest avoids the scars, the worst of the embedded metal and shrapnel, and so what he can feel is pleasant more than it isn't.
he lets that go on for a bit, letting david leave marks (which should infuriate him) and get his hands wherever they can find unbroken skin, before his grip around david's hip tightens and his other hand comes up to pull the mask off and set it aside - and then find its way into david's hair and, short as it is, get a grip to pull his head back.
it's not intended to be painful, or at least no more than normal. there's no malice in his expression. the patience, as david suspected, just isn't that strong outside a hunt. ]
You plannin' on getting on your knees here?
[ it's a joke. mostly a joke. ]
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Not this time.
[ david punctuates with a wink. it's not a 'no, never,' that would be silly when, he's generally far more willing to go down on people than he ever has been to have anything up his ass, but he's not gonna let evan have it that easy. on his terms, sometime in the future, when he can catch him off guard with it maybe. ]
[ he grins, moves his hand to nudge evan with a fist. he really couldn't explain why all this is funny to him, it just is. probably another of those times how fucking bizarre all this is starting to catch up with him. ]
Maybe the same day you let me fuck you, ey?
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So when this place collapses into dust.
[ he lets go of david's hair only to step forward, using their closeness and the hold on his hip to make david take a few steps back. toward a different workbench, because he's got way more than necessary. this one's mostly unoccupied except for a few broken pieces of old traps, a bottle of blackening tar, and partly-used tubes of grease used to keep the traps from rusting and make sure the joints snap shut as smoothly as possible.
once they're there, he traps david in as much as david tried to do to him, but he's big enough that it probably feels more effective. it's the same sort of looming he does in trials ... or at least, very close to it, except the murder's muted now.
one hand on the flat table behind david, the other still on david's hip, the light at his back and the whole place still mostly shadows, evan knows he probably looks more threatening than intended. but that's fine. the weapons are just out of reach, even now. and david's never been afraid of him - at least, not for a hell of a while. ]
Turn around or get on the table. [ yes, he'll go for it that abruptly. ] Your choice.
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[ there is something menacing about the way the shadows obscure most of his face, but it's not unattractive either. he wonders, in the few moments of quiet, if the other people evan's been with get off on that. on being able to take someone-- something just this side of monstrous and walk away from it. he's had his fair share of partners who definitely took something similar from him, and, if he thinks about it, he's probably not immune to that either. ]
[ those brief thoughts are cut off when he speaks though, and the snort and laugh that comes out of david is more surprise at the abruptness of it than anything. ]
Jesus, alright. [ thinks about it for a second, and then plants his hands on the bench behind himself to hop up on to it. seats himself at the edge like he thinks is probably right and reaches out to grip evan's waders and tug him closer. ]
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he gives david just enough space to get on the table, and then david closes it again, pulling him in. he moves the hand that had a grip on his waist up to david's jaw, tilts his head back the same way david did to him, and then leans in to return the favor he was just getting. a few bites, a few marks, almost mirroring - if unintentionally - the ones david left on him.
the other hand stays between them, finding david's belt and fly and undoing them a little inexpertly. no point in waiting, although he's not going to go right for the end game yet. ]
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[ probably not, but that's not going to stop him griping about it later. ]
[ his other hand moves from where he was gripping evan's waders to his side, around to his back, takes a moment and then decides why the fuck not shortly before david pushes his hand down to grab his ass with a particularly satisfied sounding noise. he's never really looked at it before, but it's a good handful. which... makes sense considering the size of the man it belongs to. ]
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