[ a learning curve is one way to put it, evan thinks, because very few people ever beat him in a fistfight. it's hard to beat someone who isn't just fighting to win but is desperate for it, dead certain they'll get it, and willing to kill to make sure that happens. here, he's almost unstoppable. almost.
he reaches for the drink, is about to make some idle if edged comment about david having to learn for the rest of his life, when the comment about firsts slides past his thoughts. it barely registers initially, and then he gives david a questioning look, the smirk fading a little. ]
You sayin' you never fucked anyone before? Or just not guys?
[ it barely occurred to him before, because he didn't care. and doesn't, really. but it's ... a little interesting to think about, if he dwells on it, and the alcohol lets him do that. he wouldn't have guessed, given the determination to walk right onto his property and just go for it that david had before. ]
[ it was just an offhand joke about the nature of whatever this situation between them is, but what evan asks in response is actually funny to david, the thought of himself as actually virginal enough to make him laugh. just a small, quiet chuckle. ]
Shit, could you imagine?
[ he shakes his head, meets evan's questioning look with a lightly amused one of his own. ]
Not the first guy. First cock up my arse though, so congrats.
[ granted the first, last, and only guy was a long time ago, even before the fog, but david's not thinking about that. if anything he's been pretty thoroughly derailed from his idle consideration of how he'd take trapper in a fistfight without also dying, to this. ]
[ he raises his glass in a little sardonic cheers with his congrats and knocks back a mouthful. ]
[ it didn't seem even remotely likely, so he snorts when david affirms that, no, there wasn't a first in that regard, at least not what he was suspecting.
the sarcastic tip of a glass almost makes him smirk again, but for the moment, he doesn't touch his own refilled cup. ]
That a big thing for you?
[ it's a joke, mostly. as he told david before, when they didn't kill each other, david wasn't even remotely the first survivor he's had - although even he has enough discretion to not drop names. it's not usually something anyone talks about, and for him it's not a huge deal.
maybe it should be, since it means they don't see him as just the dangerous, terrifying monster they used to see him as. but david apparently never thought that way in the first place. ]
Was curious if that was actually the whole reason you came out there, or if you just changed your mind after I smacked you around.
[ david, the very paragon of maturity and grace that he is, clearly has a joke spring to mind at the words 'big thing' judging by the brief glint in his eye and amused pull to his lips, but evan keeps talking and saves everyone from his dumb jokes. ]
[ he lets out an amused snort at the question, at the idea that getting roughed up was enough to make him consider it, and shakes his head. ]
Stubbornness more than anything, I think.
[ trying to discern the motivations of drunk david is both easy and like trying to pick out details through frosted glass, which is probably fitting because that's what his early memories of that are like too. ]
Felt like I were bein' challenged so of course I came out. And then it was put up or fuck off, and I weren't gonna fuck off, so...
[ and even drunk at the time, he could fight most people but he knew he'd just get obliterated by trapper. ]
[ put up or fuck off, and instead of losing a fight he opted for another possibility. well, evan's not going to tell him he picked wrong. he would have lost, drunk like that. evan would think he'd lose any other time, but their last encounter says that's not the case.
he can't even explain why he lost so badly. better not to dwell on it. he picks up the cup again, eyes the whiskey and then david. ]
Sounds about right.
[ he'd probably do the same thing, likely without the same results. if he was a survivor ... well, he can't say he'd win every fight. he doesn't know for sure. he doesn't want to think about being on their side of things. ]
Any regrets?
[ it's asked casually. he's not about to take it personally if david says yes. some people, drunk or high or in the heat of the moment, do things that make them wonder at their own sanity later, and he's been that thing multiple times. it's more curiosity that he's asking than anything else - not the first time tonight, he considers darkly as he takes another slow sip of the whiskey. ]
[ 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. ]
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hardlydead) wrote2021-11-01 05:44 am
no subject
he reaches for the drink, is about to make some idle if edged comment about david having to learn for the rest of his life, when the comment about firsts slides past his thoughts. it barely registers initially, and then he gives david a questioning look, the smirk fading a little. ]
You sayin' you never fucked anyone before? Or just not guys?
[ it barely occurred to him before, because he didn't care. and doesn't, really. but it's ... a little interesting to think about, if he dwells on it, and the alcohol lets him do that. he wouldn't have guessed, given the determination to walk right onto his property and just go for it that david had before. ]
no subject
Shit, could you imagine?
[ he shakes his head, meets evan's questioning look with a lightly amused one of his own. ]
Not the first guy. First cock up my arse though, so congrats.
[ granted the first, last, and only guy was a long time ago, even before the fog, but david's not thinking about that. if anything he's been pretty thoroughly derailed from his idle consideration of how he'd take trapper in a fistfight without also dying, to this. ]
[ he raises his glass in a little sardonic cheers with his congrats and knocks back a mouthful. ]
no subject
the sarcastic tip of a glass almost makes him smirk again, but for the moment, he doesn't touch his own refilled cup. ]
That a big thing for you?
[ it's a joke, mostly. as he told david before, when they didn't kill each other, david wasn't even remotely the first survivor he's had - although even he has enough discretion to not drop names. it's not usually something anyone talks about, and for him it's not a huge deal.
maybe it should be, since it means they don't see him as just the dangerous, terrifying monster they used to see him as. but david apparently never thought that way in the first place. ]
Was curious if that was actually the whole reason you came out there, or if you just changed your mind after I smacked you around.
no subject
[ he lets out an amused snort at the question, at the idea that getting roughed up was enough to make him consider it, and shakes his head. ]
Stubbornness more than anything, I think.
[ trying to discern the motivations of drunk david is both easy and like trying to pick out details through frosted glass, which is probably fitting because that's what his early memories of that are like too. ]
Felt like I were bein' challenged so of course I came out. And then it was put up or fuck off, and I weren't gonna fuck off, so...
[ and even drunk at the time, he could fight most people but he knew he'd just get obliterated by trapper. ]
no subject
he can't even explain why he lost so badly. better not to dwell on it. he picks up the cup again, eyes the whiskey and then david. ]
Sounds about right.
[ he'd probably do the same thing, likely without the same results. if he was a survivor ... well, he can't say he'd win every fight. he doesn't know for sure. he doesn't want to think about being on their side of things. ]
Any regrets?
[ it's asked casually. he's not about to take it personally if david says yes. some people, drunk or high or in the heat of the moment, do things that make them wonder at their own sanity later, and he's been that thing multiple times. it's more curiosity that he's asking than anything else - not the first time tonight, he considers darkly as he takes another slow sip of the whiskey. ]
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[ 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. ]
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[ 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. ]
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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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