[ There's a brief moment of uncertainty when Dodger's hand goes into his hair, but it turns out it's just an improvised headbutt. A pretty damn strong one, at that, and it's a good thing he's got a thick skull or this might have ended badly for him. As is, he just sees green stars and sort of slumps on top of the other man for a moment, but he's shaking with laughter a second later. ]
[ And so, they continue to beat the shit out of each other, but in a friendly way, until they're both bruised and bleeding and have at least one blackeye each. Realistically, Squalo had probably taken more damage and maybe a mild concussion, but he definitely put up a valiant effort to dish it right back out. ]
[ In the end they're both on the floor, maybe still a little tangled, catching their breaths and watching the room spin. Squalo's grin doesn't fade even as he turns to spit out a triangle tooth -- it would grow back eventually, one good thing to come from that transformation. For a little while, it's quiet. And then, ]
Got something to eat?
[ Because this was a perfectly normal thing to ask someone that you've been mutually pummeling within an inch of their lives or whatever. Listen, it's just how people hang out, right? ]
[He's still catching his breath when Squalo speaks, and his voice comes out breathy and gravelly.]
Not really. Just some old leftover garbage.
[Which isn't really an exaggeration. The stuff in his fridge is probably on the verge of expiring, although he might have some french fries in the freezer or something. Most of what he keeps in the house is alcohol, unsurprisingly.
He settles on the floor, watching Squalo with something akin to wonder on his face. Maybe just admiration.]
[ How hard could it be to scrounge up something like breadsticks or whatever? Nonetheless, the mention of more booze has Squalo perking up. He sits up a bit too suddenly, groans, then laughs breathlessly at his own sorry state. ]
A'ight, fuck that, it's getting plastered time. Hey, I think I had some left, too. [ He pauses, eyeing Dodger for a moment, the somewhat suspicious narrowing of eyes shifting into a little smug smirk when he catches a whiff of that admiration. You could think he's actually basking in the attention. ]
[ Well, he is extremely starved for it at the moment. ]
When you say "harder shit"...
[ He's not sure if he wants to do drugs, sorry. Then again, his relative self-loathing seems to be at an all time high, so who knows. ]
[When he says harder shit...] I mean harder shit. Frenzy, weed, the drugs from the club, I think I have a couple doses of morphine left from Christmas. If you really wanna have an out-of-body experience, you could try taking the ceruloxetine - but I'm not responsible if you die.
[He honestly... doesn't really know what will happen if Squalo takes it. But I do, and it will be bad.]
If you wanna bitch out, though, I've got beer and whiskey.
[And he's still not getting off the floor. Everything hurts and this is a great angle to watch Squalo.]
[ He jokes. Probably. Unlike his magical friend however, he needs to make sure he doesn't damage his livelihood during one of such binges. Which means he generally stays away from unfamiliar things and drugs, but damn if it doesn't sound tempting at the moment. ]
[ He reaches out toward Dodger. If he doesn't move away, he'll give him a few teasing tugs on the nose. ]
Really? You got morphine for Christmas? That's sad bitch drug. You wanna feel numb, I can do it for ya any time.
[ He lets go of him and wiggles his fingers in a manner that's half-playful and half on-the-nose-spooky. ]
I didn't get it to get high. Sometimes you're not around, and I need to patch myself up.
[He shrugs, finally getting up and touching his nose with a hint of indignation. All of him aches, but he wants to keep feeling it. Fuck, he wants more of it, but he's already fighting back urges that Squalo's made perfectly clear are off-limits.]
Beer's in the fridge, whiskey's in the cabinets somewhere. I can move a bottle into the fridge if we're feeling fancy. Want something on the TV while we drink?
[ Squalo rolls over, crawls to the couch where he'd left his booze bag, and returns with two and half bottles of vodka, grinning stupidly and offering one to Dodger. ]
Damn right we're feeling fancy. [ He looks around for the TV. ] Sure. Is anything good on?
[ He'll just let Dodger choose because he doesn't really watch a lot. Something about always being busy with real life things. ]
[Dodger shrugs vaguely; most of what he watches is snuff films and true crime documentaries, and he's not about to assume that falls under Squalo's definition of 'good'.]
Just turn it on and see if you're into that.
[It's probably set to some porn channel, at the moment. He takes a moment to move one of his whiskey bottles to the fridge, before teleporting onto the couch. And he'll just... let the TV play until Squalo insists on the channel being changed.]
[ Squalo has essentially done snuff films. Or more like, recorded himself murdering other swordsmen a hundred times and sent the DVDs to the boy he was training in the art of sword, as one does. But yeah, he's definitely into those, even if he may mistake "true crime" for a sitcom because it's just daily life for him. ]
[ Anyway, he'll press the "next" button until whatever is on the screen looks more like gore than porn, then settle down on the couch. ]
[ And as soon as Dodger materializes next to him, he's immediately leaning against him with his entire side to make himself comfortable (and warm), and then holds up his bottle in front of him, as if to clink for a toast. Come on, buddy, don't leave him hanging. ]
You can ask.
[ He'll decide if he wants to answer once he hears it, but rest assured, he's not going to lie. ]
[Dodger raises a brow at the man snuggling into him, but he'll take it. One of his arms casually wraps around Squalo's waist, and he clinks their bottles together before taking a gulp.]
Why don't you care what I did to everyone else? Hector, Nekane, and Garrett.
[A little bit more nuanced than just 'why do you like me'. Part of him feels like Squalo went too easy on him, but he knows his heart wasn't in it.]
[ Squalo's pointedly not acknowledging that questioning look and just relaxing into the sweet, sweet warmth. Actually, he also hurts all over, but he's managing not to hiss, and he's accepting the other's arm around him like it's no big deal. ]
[ He does, however, fall silent for a moment at the question. It's harder to excuse it when he has to say it aloud, but... ]
[ Because this was more important to me right now. ]
[ He takes a long sip from the bottle. ]
I don't particularly care about Nekane and Garrett in general.
[ He moves his free shoulder in a shrug. Not as much as I care about you. He does care about Hector, however, and it's more difficult to explain. He's not sure he wants to. He frowns and drinks again. Even so... ]
...Hector should really know what he's in for at this point. [ So clearly, whatever happened had to be as much his own fault as Dodger's. Friend of the year, everyone. But, more importantly, he vaguely gestures at them and, in particular, to his face, half of which is probably blooming lovely blue and red by now. ] And he wouldn't be able to give me this kind of comfort.
[ Because clearly, being pummelled within an inch of his life is what he needs right now. ]
[ Squalo closes his eyes and purses his lips in thought for a moment. ]
Sometimes I think he forgets.
[ Otherwise, why would he get so upset about trivial shit? Actually, Squalo could apply that to himself, too, but he'll just pat his own back for being great at appearing normal instead. ]
[ He blinks open again at the compliment, smirking and leaning his head into the touch. ]
I know. [ A pause. He probably hasn't done as much of a number on Dodger, but as long as there's blood -- ]
[ He turns his head a bit more, almost teasingly, so that the tip of his nose touches the other man's hairy cheek, breath tickling somewhere under his jaw. No homo. ] So do you.
[Squalo didn't do a ton of damage to Dodger, but it's enough to feel.. something. And combined with whatever seems to always linger in the air between them, Squalo's breath against him sends a shiver down his back.
He tips his head, shifting just enough that he can brush their lips together. It's barely a kiss, too flighty and vague to call it that. But if Squalo doesn't stop him he'll quickly deepen it, try to pull him closer and entice him into it.]
[ By all means, he should. He's still mostly aware that he should. But he's aching both from the injuries and from longing for any sort of affectionate contact, and considering at this point he's got enough booze in him that he most likely wouldn't be able to stand straight, he's getting just a teensy bit less picky. ]
[ Really, fuck Xanxus. He's basically pushed him into this situation. What the hell did he expect? ]
[ Just a little bit. He'll just have a little bit of this and then he'll stop it. He just needs to forget his goddamn misery and loneliness for a moment. To stop thinking. ]
[ To hurt that motherfucking son of bitch like he hurt him. Yeah, this just might do. ]
[ He stops pressing his lips closed together and turns his head, just enough to make it easier to chase after Dodger's partial retreat, trying to catch his bottom lip with his teeth and pull at it. Maybe also bite, it's not like either of them is going to feel much in their face right now, what with the bruises and everything, but it's a playful bite, rather than stop this shit right now bite, and surely after all this time Dodger should know the difference. ]
[Dodger doesn't really know the difference between Squalo's bites, but they're all an invitation to him. And anything beside freezing and just letting him is an improvement over what Squalo's been giving him.
His hand slips down along Squalo's back, until he's gripping his ass and pulling him into Dodger's lap. Dodger's kisses are sloppy and a little desperate, almost as if he's afraid that faltering will bring the younger man back to his senses. Like if he doesn't take this chance, it will wither away.]
[ There's a sound deep in Squalo's throat, something like a growl, but he follows along with the pull, casually tossing one leg over Dodger's lap himself. He does kiss back too, his movements languid and lazy, but there's also a certain hunger to it, as if he's tasting the first drop of rain after a week of wandering in the desert. ]
[ All of this feels great. If only he didn't feel that stupid guilt tugging at his heart with every breath-- ]
[ He turns his head slightly to break the kiss, laughs, and raises his bottle to suck in another big gulp, then another. He doesn't swallow the second one, though, instead giving Dodger a goddamn dirty look and pressing their lips together again to continue that kiss. And also let the vodka flow into the other man's mouth from his. It's like a college vodka kiss. Disgusting. ]
[Dodger's passed worse mouthfuls than vodka with kisses like this, so he can't complain at all. He accepts it eagerly, bringing a hand to Squalo's cheek and pressing his tongue into the younger man's mouth to taste the traces of alcohol. It takes him a moment longer before he finally breaks the kiss, struggling to catch his breath while his gaze darts over Squalo's face.]
You are so fucking beautiful...
[He steals another kiss, this one soft and short, before reaching to try and pull Squalo's shirt off. Better to move quickly, in case Squalo's head catches us and he puts an end to it.]
[ Squalo makes sure to swallow whatever leftovers of booze may still be in his mouth before grinning with a breathless laughter. He may or may not have noticed that Dodger knows about two entire adjectives for such situations, but being vain as he is, he's perfectly pleased just hearing the same thing endlessly and being shamelessly smug about it. ]
I know.
[ He leans in, trying to get another kiss, but he does drop the bottle and snatch Dodger's wrist-- more reflex than anything. He actually looks confused himself for a moment, then decides to roll with it. ]
... Just leave it on.
[ He guides the other man's hand under his shirt, pressing it nice and firm to his abdomen, then lets go, letting him continue independently while Squalo slides his good hand up Dodger's arm, rubbing his shoulder in a sensual manner that definitely doesn't feel particularly no homo platonic. ]
[ Part of him almost expects someone to come in. Xanxus, most of all. Barge in, grab him and remind him who he really belongs to. Save him from the flaming spiral of self destruction that winds wider with each turn. ]
[ There's nobody, though. No one comes in, no one catches him, no one stops him. But there's a warm body underneath him and he presses flush against it, desperately craving every bit of physical contact he can claim. ]
His lips twitch lazily, and he lets out a chuff of laughter. Of course Squalo knows, the man never has any doubt about his own value.
The hand on his wrist catches him by surprise as well, but he nods dumbly. So he moves his fingers over Squalo's abs instead, heating his skin just enough that they feel particularly good as he traces them along the younger man's skin.
It's been over a year, and part of him still expects the spell to be broken. His phone will buzz with some message from Augustine, telling him he needs to leave immediately and track someone. Or Crusher will break something, or Jason will call him up drunk. Fuck, there's plenty of people here that could drag him into something that trumps the gorgeous man on top of him. But none of that happens. He's free to take, and for once Squalo seems to be giving freely.
His fingers trace around to Squalo's back, pulling him in closer as Dodger seeks out a hungry kiss. He shifts his weigh, laying back on the couch and guiding Squalo down to grind slowly and purposefully against him. There's a look in his eyes that's almost entranced, put in a daze by just how much of a privilege he's being afforded. For once, Squalo Superbi is all his.]
[ To be fair, he's been all his before. But that probably seems like another world now. And then Squalo's rightful husband entered the scene and mixed it all up. ]
[ He's still there, but something between them seems to have broken. ]
[ Squalo doesn't know if he can repair it. ]
[ He doesn't want to think about it either. Not right now. Not when for the first time in weeks there's fingertips dancing over his skin that feel just the right amount of hot, not when he can finally lash out back at him, not when he can feel wanted again. ]
[ Even better, the man in front of him seems to understand what an amazing honor he's been granted to have Squalo want him in return. ]
[ He follows along downward, resting one forearm against the back of the couch to partly trap Dodger's face beside it and leaning in to accept that kiss, a little sloppy and lazy but there's still enough force and teeth for it to feel somewhat rough. ]
[ He backs off a little just to laugh breathlessly against the other's lips as he slowly rolls his hips, making sure to grind down at just the right angle. He smears more of their mixed blood against Dodger's cheek with the tip of his nose in a brush that's almost gentle before he's back for more kissing with a bite to his bottom lip. His free hand traces down Dodger's side, pausing at his waist and slipping under his shirt somewhere near the arson mark because that's delicious irony. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oh no
[ And so, they continue to beat the shit out of each other, but in a friendly way, until they're both bruised and bleeding and have at least one blackeye each. Realistically, Squalo had probably taken more damage and maybe a mild concussion, but he definitely put up a valiant effort to dish it right back out. ]
[ In the end they're both on the floor, maybe still a little tangled, catching their breaths and watching the room spin. Squalo's grin doesn't fade even as he turns to spit out a triangle tooth -- it would grow back eventually, one good thing to come from that transformation. For a little while, it's quiet. And then, ]
Got something to eat?
[ Because this was a perfectly normal thing to ask someone that you've been mutually pummeling within an inch of their lives or whatever. Listen, it's just how people hang out, right? ]
no subject
Not really. Just some old leftover garbage.
[Which isn't really an exaggeration. The stuff in his fridge is probably on the verge of expiring, although he might have some french fries in the freezer or something. Most of what he keeps in the house is alcohol, unsurprisingly.
He settles on the floor, watching Squalo with something akin to wonder on his face. Maybe just admiration.]
I've got more booze, though. And harder shit.
no subject
[ How hard could it be to scrounge up something like breadsticks or whatever? Nonetheless, the mention of more booze has Squalo perking up. He sits up a bit too suddenly, groans, then laughs breathlessly at his own sorry state. ]
A'ight, fuck that, it's getting plastered time. Hey, I think I had some left, too. [ He pauses, eyeing Dodger for a moment, the somewhat suspicious narrowing of eyes shifting into a little smug smirk when he catches a whiff of that admiration. You could think he's actually basking in the attention. ]
[ Well, he is extremely starved for it at the moment. ]
When you say "harder shit"...
[ He's not sure if he wants to do drugs, sorry. Then again, his relative self-loathing seems to be at an all time high, so who knows. ]
no subject
[He honestly... doesn't really know what will happen if Squalo takes it.
But I do, and it will be bad.]If you wanna bitch out, though, I've got beer and whiskey.
[And he's still not getting off the floor. Everything hurts and this is a great angle to watch Squalo.]
no subject
[ He jokes. Probably. Unlike his magical friend however, he needs to make sure he doesn't damage his livelihood during one of such binges. Which means he generally stays away from unfamiliar things and drugs, but damn if it doesn't sound tempting at the moment. ]
[ He reaches out toward Dodger. If he doesn't move away, he'll give him a few teasing tugs on the nose. ]
Really? You got morphine for Christmas? That's sad bitch drug. You wanna feel numb, I can do it for ya any time.
[ He lets go of him and wiggles his fingers in a manner that's half-playful and half on-the-nose-spooky. ]
no subject
[He shrugs, finally getting up and touching his nose with a hint of indignation. All of him aches, but he wants to keep feeling it. Fuck, he wants more of it, but he's already fighting back urges that Squalo's made perfectly clear are off-limits.]
Beer's in the fridge, whiskey's in the cabinets somewhere. I can move a bottle into the fridge if we're feeling fancy. Want something on the TV while we drink?
no subject
[ Squalo rolls over, crawls to the couch where he'd left his booze bag, and returns with two and half bottles of vodka, grinning stupidly and offering one to Dodger. ]
Damn right we're feeling fancy. [ He looks around for the TV. ] Sure. Is anything good on?
[ He'll just let Dodger choose because he doesn't really watch a lot. Something about always being busy with real life things. ]
no subject
Just turn it on and see if you're into that.
[It's probably set to some porn channel, at the moment. He takes a moment to move one of his whiskey bottles to the fridge, before teleporting onto the couch. And he'll just... let the TV play until Squalo insists on the channel being changed.]
Hey. Can I ask you something?
no subject
[ Anyway, he'll press the "next" button until whatever is on the screen looks more like gore than porn, then settle down on the couch. ]
[ And as soon as Dodger materializes next to him, he's immediately leaning against him with his entire side to make himself comfortable (and warm), and then holds up his bottle in front of him, as if to clink for a toast. Come on, buddy, don't leave him hanging. ]
You can ask.
[ He'll decide if he wants to answer once he hears it, but rest assured, he's not going to lie. ]
no subject
Why don't you care what I did to everyone else? Hector, Nekane, and Garrett.
[A little bit more nuanced than just 'why do you like me'. Part of him feels like Squalo went too easy on him, but he knows his heart wasn't in it.]
no subject
[ He does, however, fall silent for a moment at the question. It's harder to excuse it when he has to say it aloud, but... ]
[ Because this was more important to me right now. ]
[ He takes a long sip from the bottle. ]
I don't particularly care about Nekane and Garrett in general.
[ He moves his free shoulder in a shrug. Not as much as I care about you. He does care about Hector, however, and it's more difficult to explain. He's not sure he wants to. He frowns and drinks again. Even so... ]
...Hector should really know what he's in for at this point. [ So clearly, whatever happened had to be as much his own fault as Dodger's. Friend of the year, everyone. But, more importantly, he vaguely gestures at them and, in particular, to his face, half of which is probably blooming lovely blue and red by now. ] And he wouldn't be able to give me this kind of comfort.
[ Because clearly, being pummelled within an inch of his life is what he needs right now. ]
no subject
Hector knows what he signed up for. First time we met, I went out of my way to try and scare him.
[It's almost a bitter memory now. If only he hadn't met the man. Or gotten bored during their first meeting. Maybe this wouldn't hurt as much.
Idly, he reaches up to pet Squalo's hair.]
You look good with bruises.
no subject
Sometimes I think he forgets.
[ Otherwise, why would he get so upset about trivial shit? Actually, Squalo could apply that to himself, too, but he'll just pat his own back for being great at appearing normal instead. ]
[ He blinks open again at the compliment, smirking and leaning his head into the touch. ]
I know. [ A pause. He probably hasn't done as much of a number on Dodger, but as long as there's blood -- ]
[ He turns his head a bit more, almost teasingly, so that the tip of his nose touches the other man's
hairycheek, breath tickling somewhere under his jaw. No homo. ] So do you.no subject
He tips his head, shifting just enough that he can brush their lips together. It's barely a kiss, too flighty and vague to call it that. But if Squalo doesn't stop him he'll quickly deepen it, try to pull him closer and entice him into it.]
no subject
[ Really, fuck Xanxus. He's basically pushed him into this situation. What the hell did he expect? ]
[ Just a little bit. He'll just have a little bit of this and then he'll stop it. He just needs to forget his goddamn misery and loneliness for a moment. To stop thinking. ]
[ To hurt that motherfucking son of bitch like he hurt him. Yeah, this just might do. ]
[ He stops pressing his lips closed together and turns his head, just enough to make it easier to chase after Dodger's partial retreat, trying to catch his bottom lip with his teeth and pull at it. Maybe also bite, it's not like either of them is going to feel much in their face right now, what with the bruises and everything, but it's a playful bite, rather than stop this shit right now bite, and surely after all this time Dodger should know the difference. ]
no subject
His hand slips down along Squalo's back, until he's gripping his ass and pulling him into Dodger's lap. Dodger's kisses are sloppy and a little desperate, almost as if he's afraid that faltering will bring the younger man back to his senses. Like if he doesn't take this chance, it will wither away.]
no subject
[ All of this feels great. If only he didn't feel that stupid guilt tugging at his heart with every breath-- ]
[ He turns his head slightly to break the kiss, laughs, and raises his bottle to suck in another big gulp, then another. He doesn't swallow the second one, though, instead giving Dodger a goddamn dirty look and pressing their lips together again to continue that kiss. And also let the vodka flow into the other man's mouth from his. It's like a college vodka kiss. Disgusting. ]
no subject
You are so fucking beautiful...
[He steals another kiss, this one soft and short, before reaching to try and pull Squalo's shirt off. Better to move quickly, in case Squalo's head catches us and he puts an end to it.]
no subject
[ sperm 8( ]
[ Squalo makes sure to swallow whatever leftovers of booze may still be in his mouth before grinning with a breathless laughter. He may or may not have noticed that Dodger knows about two entire adjectives for such situations, but being vain as he is, he's perfectly pleased just hearing the same thing endlessly and being shamelessly smug about it. ]
I know.
[ He leans in, trying to get another kiss, but he does drop the bottle and snatch Dodger's wrist-- more reflex than anything. He actually looks confused himself for a moment, then decides to roll with it. ]
... Just leave it on.
[ He guides the other man's hand under his shirt, pressing it nice and firm to his abdomen, then lets go, letting him continue independently while Squalo slides his good hand up Dodger's arm, rubbing his shoulder in a sensual manner that definitely doesn't feel particularly
no homoplatonic. ][ Part of him almost expects someone to come in. Xanxus, most of all. Barge in, grab him and remind him who he really belongs to. Save him from the flaming spiral of self destruction that winds wider with each turn. ]
[ There's nobody, though. No one comes in, no one catches him, no one stops him. But there's a warm body underneath him and he presses flush against it, desperately craving every bit of physical contact he can claim. ]
no subject
His lips twitch lazily, and he lets out a chuff of laughter. Of course Squalo knows, the man never has any doubt about his own value.
The hand on his wrist catches him by surprise as well, but he nods dumbly. So he moves his fingers over Squalo's abs instead, heating his skin just enough that they feel particularly good as he traces them along the younger man's skin.
It's been over a year, and part of him still expects the spell to be broken. His phone will buzz with some message from Augustine, telling him he needs to leave immediately and track someone. Or Crusher will break something, or Jason will call him up drunk. Fuck, there's plenty of people here that could drag him into something that trumps the gorgeous man on top of him. But none of that happens. He's free to take, and for once Squalo seems to be giving freely.
His fingers trace around to Squalo's back, pulling him in closer as Dodger seeks out a hungry kiss. He shifts his weigh, laying back on the couch and guiding Squalo down to grind slowly and purposefully against him. There's a look in his eyes that's almost entranced, put in a daze by just how much of a privilege he's being afforded. For once, Squalo Superbi is all his.]
no subject
[ To be fair, he's been all his before. But that probably seems like another world now. And then Squalo's rightful husband entered the scene and mixed it all up. ]
[ He's still there, but something between them seems to have broken. ]
[ Squalo doesn't know if he can repair it. ]
[ He doesn't want to think about it either. Not right now. Not when for the first time in weeks there's fingertips dancing over his skin that feel just the right amount of hot, not when he can finally lash out back at him, not when he can feel wanted again. ]
[ Even better, the man in front of him seems to understand what an amazing honor he's been granted to have Squalo want him in return. ]
[ He follows along downward, resting one forearm against the back of the couch to partly trap Dodger's face beside it and leaning in to accept that kiss, a little sloppy and lazy but there's still enough force and teeth for it to feel somewhat rough. ]
[ He backs off a little just to laugh breathlessly against the other's lips as he slowly rolls his hips, making sure to grind down at just the right angle. He smears more of their mixed blood against Dodger's cheek with the tip of his nose in a brush that's almost gentle before he's back for more kissing with a bite to his bottom lip. His free hand traces down Dodger's side, pausing at his waist and slipping under his shirt somewhere near the arson mark because that's delicious irony. ]