Fugue State

a state or period of loss of awareness of one's identity

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 Sleeplessly Embracing You, Jeanne D'Arc // 7PM @Rich/Sarah
Jan 4 2018, 08:02 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897

Place. Jeanne D’Arc. Time. Seven PM. Lito wasn't punctual. Lito was early. Six-thirty PM.

The night was a chilly one, though no part of him could be bothered to care. He had walked here. The large and sprawling distance between his home and the desired destination had latched the effluvia of his road onto his person; he smelled like the streets, like the roads, like the many elbows he’d brushed with in a literal manner, like his long, and stupidly winded journey he’d enjoyed like an adventurer to a forbidden city. Beneath all that, accumulated onto him like his real clothing, was the scent of the man; his subtle, gentle cologne. Enough to enhance the natural musk of his person. He wore the clothes for the part of a date, all dapper. And he had walked like that here, was important to mention, causing several looks of confused desire in those who’d noticed his looks; on those wandering itinerant gazes, on those noticing his curls, his salt and pepper coat. And then the levity of his steps, so other. So not quite from this world but like he had been taught how to walk by the creatures who did not. He glided, without noise.

A step after a step from a man who must have been mad for a certain, choosing to tackle this road on his own and without a driver behind a wheel asking him if the lucky lady of his choice was getting a flower.

No. Richard was not.

But like that, once again, and let’s rewind this necessary fact, like that Lito arrived here, into this restaurant they’d made a reservation for two weeks in advance and then prepared for, dolled up, like its new lively decor.

Lito walked in.

With his noiseless steps, with his presence.

Other.

It was almost hard to put into words. Like he itched, for the lack of anything else, itched for something that might have been rapidly disrobing himself and shedding the skin that made him appear human. Itched, endlessly and invisibly with his very calm and subtle being that didn’t quite meet what you’d expect him to think or say were he, indeed, just a witch.

He was not just a witch.

And this not just a witch was directed to their table, Richard yet absent, but his coat taken and the menu given, and the wine list explained before Richard could arrive here to make a quick mess of anyone thinking they played this game better than a peddler of human lust. Lito just smiled. And waited.

Waited.

Looking over the wine list, feeling little desire to drink but he waited. Waited.

When he smelled him, he looked up.

Smelled him he had, a practice unlikely for a mere witch but Lito smiled surreptitiously, his serene, calm gaze darkening with forbidden amusement. He watched the man’s entrance.

Tall, groomed, and impossibly attractive, Richard walked himself in like he casually owned this as of this minute, and everyone out in an act that emptied the joint sans Lito and their future wine.

Lito’s tummy tumbled.

He watched him, striking, waltzing, and a waltz it was for a certain, that confident man’s walk towards his aim. Waltz, Lito thought, elegant, and possessive in such a subtle manner Lito at once felt this exciting sliver of an early apology for the cheek of invading the man’s space without a permit. He didn’t swallow it.

He didn’t shy from it.

He stood up.

“Richard.”

He was sure his voice had trembled.

Dressed up as per usual, Richard shouldn't have made for any more impressive sight as he normally did. Shouldn’t have, a laughable and amusing concept that obviously didn’t apply for a moment, and Lito felt his breath catch in his throat, looking the man over, wondering if he himself compared in any manner.

He did not.

Did Richard hate that Lito’s shirt was unbuttoned at his neck?

That he wasn’t so prim and proper, a boundaries pusher who’d donned the look though his heart, you were certain, was out somewhere in the wild, merrily riddling these clothes through with scars.

He kept the smile.

“You look good,” he told him, his tone soft. Possessing of a faint quiver of a man who’d have rather seated himself and grabbed a fan for the heat in his face. He remained stood.

Instead.

Stubborn, and staring, with the casual lust in his eyes so warm and open they were, so kind.

He bit on his lower lip.

Subtly.

And backed away by half a step, as though making the invitation to take a seat together. Next to each other with little space.

What could go wrong?
@Sarah

--------------------
user posted image
Jan 5 2018, 12:50 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
Cautela Pard
Bisexual
Single // Shipped
Rich / Dick

awards

Proper Puss
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
It smelled of the countryside, decided the second he stepped through the door, the clamor of his polished shoes something impossibly faint, a grace a man shouldn't possess and yet there is was in the stride of him as he scarcely ceased the length of his legs. No fussing over his attire, a man who knew it all sat where it ought to be, as well behaved as the woman who'd fussed over him before he'd left the office. The soft scent of her tainted his nose yet, wispy even as it clung to him with the last ditch effort of its curled fingers. It'd not last long in a place as fragrant as this.

Feet pausing a step or two as a man stood beside a quaint little desk asked after his need-- Richard's gaze was already focused and like a sniper perched upon a roof, he'd not blink until he was satisfied the other end had been met. A hand would wave gently, the reservation name tossed and the lack of need for someone to lead him... anywhere. It was an answer that left no room for quarrel and before one could be given he was off. A single glance never awarded to a man who his attention wasn't here for. Rude, perhaps, but it seemed a notion he was comfortable pinning to his carefully pressed lapel as he slipped through the restaurant.

The impossible dark of his eyes never roaming.

Things avoided by sheer will power of his peripheral and the ability to multitask so many men were devoid of.

His feet wandered him in a straight line, alone and without hindrance-- at least for half a destination's length. Until the cut of Lito's smile and the press of his stare seemed to narrow his vision to a pinpoint that should have walked him into a table or waiter or both. He'd make it without incident, watching Lito stand in a greeting he had a mind to stop, as if his presence had bothered the surface of him. A calm pool of water turned tumultuous with a very few steps from the door to a shared table. It rippled his surface and some part of Richard both loved and hated it as it touched the pleasant hues of his voice as well.

Loved it.

Decided, as the soft curl at the corner of his mouth belied his usually quelled amusement.

Dragged, his eyes wandered then and only as he drew near enough that his feet would slow and the last few feet made excruciatingly slow, for them both. Surveyed the man and his dress-- a fallacy he'd not hide from the dark of his eyes, a surface deep as night in the low light of the restaurant. A surface that appeared to reflect the rippled pool of Lito's tamed lust. Surveyed the man but saw very little of what wrapped around him, plucked the soft memory of a moan from his voice--

"As do you, Lito,"

It was too low, that yawning timbre like gravel under feet in winter.

Every small piece of disheveled would catch his eye, as he pulled himself to an easy pause beside the table, one that'd not last as Lito moved in offering of a seat. Already he was moving, rounding the table and the man, in an improper placement of himself. Not across as was expected but beside, backs to the wall as he'd always prefer.

Rounded Lito and without a single touch his voice would murmur low. Precise. Without from for discussion--

"Sit."

Fingers unclasping the button of his jacket in a motion so practiced he might as well have been born in a suit, and it'd be shed and draped over his chair, one dragged closer and set there with every amused onlooker paid no attention to. Without watching he'd seat himself, expecting the man beside to be where he ought to be when the sharp of his jaw shifted and chin swiveled his gaze. Too warm when they landed on Lito, right where he was expected to be.

He smelled of the outside, everything almost rain and fresh, it curled his insides like a slowly constricting snake around its prey.

"I hope the world's been kind to you since last we met,"

It sounded a threat. It shouldn't have. He had no right--

Sounded a threat as if the world and it's vast lovely blue and green face sat across from them even now, and so help its entire existence if it had wronged the man.

Voice too dark and eyes too intense in their study over his face, on a hunt for anything that might brandish the cool of his ire into a weapon.

As if he had any right to defend this man, any right to claim he ought to--

He did not.

Richard would anyway.
Jan 5 2018, 02:26 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
He shouldn’t have felt the need to shake his knees when Rich greeted him. It was his lilt. So deep. So powerful. Lito easily pictured the man amidst a business meeting and in its utmost control. He swallowed. (Around the lump in his throat.) And when sit Richard said--

He sat. Immediately. Whilst watching where the man had walked and noting that Richard’s choice rather flattered his animal; backs to the wall, and a good view of the room. And thus they sat. One next to another, Rich next to Lito and Lito desperately trying not to look at him with that naked desire to unstrip him. But sex wasn’t yet on his mind. He smiled at the man, and studied his question.

“No attempts at my life quite yet,” he said, his tone slow, almost teasing. Not quite in a manner that imagined him slowly losing his clothes, and yet the lilt did skip and bob as would a grinning rascal en route to home (hands stained in every cookie he’d lifted from its jar). Mischievously, his lips crooked, Lito smiled, and he added, “I suppose the big, bad supreme will have to content sans any temporarily.”

It’d the first time he’d mentioned it. But he knew Richard had before, clearly indicating they’d researched each other like for a powerpoint presentation. Tasked to know by the teacher desire, they’d plunged into the secrets that the other told at least superficially, noted by all the government officials in the city who personally didn’t care about one Lito Silvestre, and one Richard Driver. Strangers in a strange world, these two gents were remarkably dull to anyone observing the ongoings of the world. And yet to them, Lito believed, any small detail of the other person had been devoured like a lunch by a famished person.

He liked that Richard had a daughter, for example. That his love situation wasn’t so simple but it was a detail, still, that Lito had tucked and now held close to his heart, protective over it, like it was his right.

“And you?” he asked, genuinely curious. With his bright and dark eyes, peering into Richard with his silly need to have them hooded and kind. He should have been nervous about that. He was, in a way. Richard was still an unknown. Outside of understanding the rhythm of his hips in midst of passion, there was little he could tell you about his companion. Was he a good man, was he a generous, chivalrous man?

Did Lito want to pretend he cared?

Not about those three, not one bit. He leaned a bit back.

The waiter was coming their way.

A song of cutlery, people eating. The cacophony of all this going on created a thick enough veil between them and reading into the usual signs someone approached them to their side. With his eyes pinned on his date, you assumed, and you assumed correctly, Lito should have been hopeful to see the reflection of the arriving waiter on those very eyes that riveted his mind. And yet he had leaned back before then, way before then, and slanted his gaze at the man whose solid footsteps he had heard from distance.

Larger than a human should notice.

He grinned at him when he was present.

“Hello, I’m afraid I’ve not picked any,” he said, charmingly sitting his chin into his palm and peering up at the man, with amusement. “But my date,” he added, and his chest harrumphed then: date. But my date-- Lito slowly faced Richard, “Is certainly more well-spoken in the language of wine.” A pause. “I hope?” His eyes tested Richard, his tone did too, with humor and without words questioning if Richard did indeed know all this, and Lito should add it to the ever-growing list of things about Richard he adored. He smiled at him--

Wider.

Warmer.

Just his teasing, burning eyes buried into Richard’s.

“I don’t eat meat.”

Spoken suddenly.

Lito lingered on Richard… and slowly looked at the waiter, pinning him with a sharp smile.

“Could I ask you for vegetarian alternatives?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.”


And slowly, Lito looked at Richard once more.

--------------------
user posted image
Jan 6 2018, 07:13 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
Cautela Pard
Bisexual
Single // Shipped
Rich / Dick

awards

Proper Puss
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Whatever the monster was that paced behind his veins, beneath them, a thing tethered under ropes of red-- would still itself (in part) as nothing arose that need be dealt with. One might have argued him as a man without the means to do so, the past of these two taken into consideration, but whoever decided this would inevitably be proven wrong. A silent swearing by a man whose hands had been stained for long years now. The tease of a possibility was enough to see every rough and furred surface of him ruffed over. His eyes too sharp as he surveyed this man beside him, nothing unkind, but focused and acute after every line that maybe hadn't been there before. Watched this man who haunted long hours after he'd left. Hours into days into weeks.

Did Lito know he was ghost?

"I suppose he will,"

There was something akin to relief in his voice as he murmured this, softly. Glad maybe, to not need to leave just as he'd arrive, to brandish every weapon in his arsenal and off he'd drive himself, into the streets with torch and pitchfork. Tooth and claw. Ready to rend this whole city for its trespass. They'd not come to hand off their issues, now had they? "All has been quiet," relatively speaking anyway, but again, tonight wasn't about issues and in this line of questioning, Richard hadn't had an end attempted upon his life. Again.

He sounded as if they suddenly had the room to breathe where they might not have had before. Suddenly, they were everything free of this one burden. No murder and life had been quiet. It was natural for Richard, or so he'd claim, to wonder how far the reach of this spanned. To wonder after the time they'd been apart, sans murder, had the world been kind?

Did Lito know he was made of wispy ethereal substance that haunted?

The heavy footfalls that approached stilled any want to quiz further. Instead the silence stretched for the seconds it took the man to settle himself there, an intrusion natural and one they'd attend to like it'd been expected. It had, their current origin considered. Richard watching the shift of Lito's eyes, something too astute, too knowing as if he were following the man as readily as Richard was. An impossibility in the mind of a man who regarded his ghost as he was, a witch. A mortal man. He'd say nothing of it before the lock of their gaze parted like dancers spun away from their partner. The sift of Richard's eyes something sharp and dark, though its patience knew the reason behind the moment, whether it enjoyed it or not.

The subtle of his smile, an amused thing that ticked the corner of his mouth, would glance him over Lito's features as he spoke of the meat he didn't eat. Lingered there without need to return to the waiter for long whiles. Lito would break off and it was then that Richard would train his attention, calmed it there on the third wheel even as the itch of Lito's gaze flickered over his features in a tease he hated.

Back to the man stood waiting patiently. Their conversation was low, encompassing years and areas of France Richard knew well enough he could have mapped them with some surprising accuracy. Of reds the color of his stained hands and the dry of their wash across a palette, the sweet, the careful splay of them in every little note. Like a well rehearsed play they'd continue for long whiles before something was chosen from the few they offered. It was nothing impressive, not that Richard would note anyway, as the man retreated and they were left with menus and the silence between his heavy retreating footfalls.

Hands laced softly atop his menu and Richard would return his attention to Lito, nothing light as it settled there on his face. It felt an eternity, and a second before he spoke, hands shifting to the menu before him as he spoke of such a mundane matter it might have meant nothing to anyone.

He'd heard somewhere once, that to expel a ghost you had to first identify it--

"Not a meat eater,"

And then identify what had trapped it upon this plane.

"And under versed in wines,"

Tisked from beneath his breath as his gaze slipped to the side. "What other secrets are you hiding?" There wasn't enough kindness in his face to call it warm, so much as it was heated through. Like some semblance of this tickled him where it might have irritated most, a man cloaked in enigma where most wanted clarity.

Back to his ghosts--

"A recent hire of mine... replacement, I suppose, has taken it upon herself to remodel. I've had to part ways with a desk, I think you know it... a shame really, but I've noticed since then, I've been rather devoid of ghosts...,"

The corner of his mouth would curl lightly, as his gaze slipped back to the menu that lay parted and splayed open before him. His voice low and quiet--

"I have yet to decide which is the bigger loss, that trusted desk... or its memories,"
Jan 6 2018, 08:31 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
Lito memorized the conversation between the men like it would ever get him hooked on wine. When it moved on, the waiter was gone. Lito focused his attention on his date, and Richard listed off the recently acquired wisdom like suggested a puzzle.

Lito just smirked.

And retorted--

“Numerous. Such that you’d never assume of anyone.”

It was sing-a-song.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t tell Richard how every facial feature of his was noted beyond the usual human limitations. Lito saw him. Lito heard him. Lito smelled the man and the prowling feline behind his gaze, wanting to see the man become an animal to complete the date. Cheek in his hand, he angled his head at Richard, amused where he next went. Where Richard feigned focus elsewhere, Lito remained firmly riveted on him in a manner best called visibly pining. When he smiled, and stuck out his hand without turning, the just arriving waiter managed only a faintly stuttered version of his previous introduction before sticking the menu with vegetarian alternatives into Lito’s hold. Lito had not even looked at him.

The menu, leather bound it appeared, was lowered on the table, and Lito’s attention remained unwaveringly, obsessively on his partner. Musing, “Perhaps it’s the attachment?”, he slanted a heavily-lidded, inviting look at the man that seduced and simultaneously hoped one wouldn’t bend the other yet. They’d just walked through the door of nothing but torture, and Lito’s mind was engulfed with the pleasant mood of their conversation. Idle, he conversed.

“Maybe you want to repeat the first tainting again, rechristen the new desk, make new memories.” He quirked his brows, sighing in mock resignation as he complained, “Or maybe, you’re stuck with the knowledge that nothing will quite repeat that; how many times do you get the supreme to bleed cheekily in your office and then bend over the desk like it’s his?

“I recommend punishment.”


But he didn’t say beyond that, instead taking a moment to admire Richard’s profile. Food was the last thing on his thoughts.

Richard’s profile pushed itself into the line of Lito’s vision, sitting there in every entitled pout of noble accustomed to praise. But even if Lito had known exactly that there was no winning with Richard, he’d not have refrained from compliments.

Richard was a presence. Sitting here with every poise of an experienced gentleman, the callow look of youth on Lito stood back up in a cheeky mirror of his confident stance. Lito must have been a fool of Richard him for himself. His obsessive affinity for everything slightly off kilter measured the exact level of Richard’s generally impregnability level, and graded him with an impossible to attain, and focused Lito on himself like Richard would be the next landmark of his short human life he stabbed into the ground now. His admiring look burned wild. Broad upon his features, it was brandished out to be argued over as too early in arrival; it needed ten more meetings and twenty more intimate encounters to be logical. It stood in plain view regardless, a fearless splay of itself where Richard would witness just how incredibly he was desired, and how dangerous the man perhaps he’d called a puzzle by a mistake.

Dangerous because he wasn’t a riddle solved by time.

Lito kept his smile. And dragged his gaze down Richard’s body, shamelessly stripping him. But he was looking at him into the eyes as he asked him--

“Where did you learn your wines?”

--his tone husky.

--------------------
user posted image
Jan 8 2018, 02:25 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
Cautela Pard
Bisexual
Single // Shipped
Rich / Dick

awards

Proper Puss
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Richard's lips stretched, shifted, a slight mention and in every amusement as Lito played along, teasing his senses with every want to unravel him even while keeping him whole. While he was a man who wanted to know fully, Richard saw the need in secrets, saw the intrigue. Knew well enough the need for them and that they were there, both itched his fingers to tug at them in examination while also wrapping 'round them to keep them whole and intact and unknown. Leave the man to bask in the mystery of this other, to pluck secrets from his like petals on a flower and over the course of years. Perhaps simply time was a better measure in the face of years, an investment he wasn't sure he held just yet. Intrigue and attraction but the investment was nothing settled into his skin just yet.

The quiet in Richard only ever bred focus and clarity and his silence would come as Lito spoke, his words soft and subtle in that low timbre that he was sure had seen him perched on a desk more than a few times in his past. That knowledge was nothing that bothered Richard in the slightest, a man who welcomed a challenge, one that meant he'd have to leave some lasting impression to be remembered as more than just another man with a desk.

A proper smirk would bend his features then as he murmured his answer, one that was thoughtful only after the fact, like it was only after this fact that he thought in an seriousness over the suggestion.

"I'm not a terribly sentimental man,"

Punishment, a blip on his mind and while he'd have loved to sit and think about it, the bend of a waist and hard exacted cant of hip-- or elbow, perhaps the resounding noise a palm against an ass cheek would sound in his too large house for one man. But if he allowed it in this moment, his mind to wander, it would be nothing he'd ever get back before it wandered too far and encompassed his world. He'd tug himself from his thoughts, noting this wasn't a coffee shop and they weren't tucked away in a corner booth well enough away from people that their murmurs wouldn't be so easily overheard as to cause a riot.

It was Lito's gaze he returned to then, bold and staring and curtained by curls Richard found as seemingly impossible to tame as the wild-eyed man beside him. He also knew both those statements to be entirely untrue. Slicked with sweat and his curls would obey,just as the man did so well, such an impossible thing to understand if you didn't take him in in little palatable mouthfuls. He seemed as much anyway. And it was then, in the full view of this restaurant and all it's staring perhaps eyes, that Richard shifted himself, a set of fingers slipping through the curled bangs that trickled down Lito's forehead to touch his brow. A tucking that would only see them revolt and yet it wasn't their taming he was after at all.

Rather it was the feel of them and all their comrades against the tips of his fingers that he sought out. Slipped beneath his hold and they wound 'round and through, delicate and light, but impossibly thick. A short dive, casual perhaps before his hand retreated and swiped knuckles along his cheek in every adoring fashion that bumped a knuckle beneath the dip of his resting chin. The pale of his stoic would crack as his hand fell back to rest against the table, his half smile, soft and generally innocent. Would have been had it not been branded with his perfect splay of heat, one fed and fueled by the man beside him in a conversation silent. Of long days of thoughtful repose and hauntings. One that drank in the other like the wine they'd soon find upon their table.

"Wales mostly, France and Naples a bit later... a very long time ago,"

His eyes would watch the waiter as he returned presenting the bottle before uncorking it and shifting it pour it--

Richard would tut softly. "Leave it," his voice a whip against the moment, crisp as a snapping though nothing harsh in that elegant low tone. The smell of it as it wafted was enough for his experienced nose. His thanks was murmured long whiles after he returned to Lito. "My home, the first one, was a vineyard. One of several my father owned. It simply came with the territory," shifting their glasses nearer Richard would move to pour the wine himself, glass tilted and it's aromatics left to swirl invitingly around it the bell of each glass before they were set off to breathe. "It also came with English courtship, if you lacked knowledge over such things, you were touted as illegitimate. Unbelonging," his lean was close, his smile as dark and faint as his words.

"Little did they know, even bastards can learn wine,"

Righting himself he'd lean himself against the table lightly, his focus yet on Lito.

Narrowing.

"Punishment. You must have suggestions,"

A brow would quirk in curiosity.
Jan 8 2018, 04:23 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
I’m not a terribly sentimental man, Richard said, and for all it implied you may have plucked and stuffed the stars in Lito’s eyes, they shone just as, if not worse so, a blinding kind of bright. He smiled. “I see,” and said that, an abuse of the language. Pure and simple. It happened if he talked for the actual joy; talking to talk like he belied hard and gorgeous truths if he only continued to hint enough at layers to peel off. But did he want Richard to peel him? Did he want to peel the man. Did he want to see who he was down underneath, the creature behind the strict dress code and no doubt every ability to recite social etiquette to you without a blink.

Richard sent the waiter off.

I do.

Lito watched him like the world didn’t matter.

I do, he repeated into his words. The wedding bells didn’t toll but I do, he echoed, I do, like there were still parts of him that didn’t know. Did he want to be discovered by Richard?

I do.

Did he want to discover Richard?

I do. And I am.

Lito’s eyes were still hooded from the touch to his curls. From how he’d leaned into it by a simple fraction. He had. And he had chased it with nothing you snapped a picture of and presented to the judge, exhibit A your, Justice. Exhibit A! He had chased it in that subtle way of going still like you could tame a disaster before it hit.

For a damn short minute.

Wales, Naples and France. Lito hummed in response, his eyes on Richard. He could have replayed twenty times over how the man had said Leave it-- no. How he’d ordered. Leave it. And it had been left. He blinked, his smile widening as Richard carried on explaining.

And chuckled, eventually, uttering, “And here I was going to ask you if you were a bastard. I suppose not a lot of us can be lucky.” He accepted his glass. It necessitated a bit of a lean back, weight shifted such he didn’t crush his drink under his weight, but even then he found a way to maintain his lean, that supple form of his given every of the credence Richard knew how to give it. Lito’s smile remained on Richard. Closed off and warm.

Curious.

“Punishment. I have plenty ideas. None of them for an innocent audience. Did you want to hear about me?” He asked this with some faint amusement, like it was surely a ridiculous idea within its own right to want that; to know him, him? What did he have to add, to this moment?

If not the bracelet on his leg that he didn’t remove even when he showered. Such as the color of his blood, paler if it was off. Such as his diet, his desire not to eat meat cemented in the programming of his body rather than his own conscious choice. But Lito toyed with rim of his glass, not yet drinking and either waiting for Richard to say when, or so gladly distracted he cared not for anything outside the man.

A willing game of play and pretend.

That the world didn’t matter.

And never had.

His lips smoothed. His smile, then, seemed something above, and Lito forwent the usual need to flirt and admitted, his tone plain but raw--

“My parents died when I was a boy. Technically, I killed them.”

His finger circling the rim of his glass, he chatted, like it were a topic as mundane as your last, boring breakfast, as your last, fatty dinner, as your last 3am snacking, face full of treats you denied yourself when the sun was watching.

Like it didn’t matter.

“I have an ability,” he talked, in a tone that carried past their table. Haunting like his expression; beautiful and severely calm. “My other ability. It’s a bit destructive, you could say. I don’t assume you’ll ever able to guess.

“I don’t assume I’ll ever want to show you.”


He found himself reaching for Richard. Like a man trapped in darkness and finding that spot of light ahead, hoping it led to an escape. From his own mind and exploding himself in the back of his parents’ car and how they all died.

Even if for a while.

A man killed times and over again. Lito did actually keep a count and seven, it was, seven lives gone. His gaze turned hollowed, haunted for a moment. Still he maintained his diminished, tired smile.

“Maybe a topic for another day? When I am not trying to seduce a man…” His fingers skirted the top of Richard’s clothes. Over his buttons, over the straight, ironed linen of his material that shoved him right back into the Victorian area he had come out of.

“How old are you?”

He smiled like an excited boy.

--------------------
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Jan 9 2018, 01:23 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
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Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
"Mm, I suppose it's nothing that holds much weight now days," his voice was oddly amused, softly so. A quiet little quip thereof as he watched Lito lean, shamelessly so, on both accounts. A word that had long shamed and haunted the man now sat as little more than thoughtless insult. Richard still found that it haunted, not as readily as his new found ghosts, but it did still follow along at his heels like a dog without a home. His eyes were glazed a moment before their light flicked back on in a blink. Focused them down to that finite point that spelled his momentary investment, a moment that had lasted far longer than a moment. A man who'd lingered far longer than most. Had already had and yet here they were, Richard's fascination not yet quelled and for all the want in him to press his warm hands against equally warm skin, he found the man himself the focus of his intrigue.

"Perhaps, but only a little,"

It quirked his mouth to one side, a subtle smirk that lingered in the need to not be cheeky at all but rather to be honest after his intent. He wanted to know the man, but not too much of him, to keep some parts of his mysterious and blindingly cloying. Richard, for however strict he was, however controlled his manners were in the moment, wanted to keep some part of this man separated. Selfishly so. To retain his intrigue a while longer, to return him to the gorgeous face that sat beside him now even long whiles after it was gone.

To not reduce their run-ins to nothing but the spread of Lito's cheeks or the luscious feel of his pillowed lips around a cock that seemed too ready in its throb at the mere mention of his name. So quickly did he lose interest in those who begged for attention, who held nothing but the warmth of their body's to offer him. Richard selfishly wanted more, and in that, needed less. What he was given next would quirk his brow and shade his eyes something intensely curious. A dog tossed a bone and it was an gnawed upon as his own. The teeth marks slightly off but their divots just as dark.

It was a patient and kind sort of curiosity, morbid, surely, but the sort that held understanding. That would have reached out a hand to pat his cheek had he felt Lito needed it. He did not. The look of his was serene and beautiful, as calm as Richard felt when he spoke of the numerous times he'd dipped his hands in red over the years.

"I believe I know of what you speak,"

The intensity behind his eyes was one dark and knowing, the sort of knowing that came with every witness. He'd seen it, though even what he'd seen he wasn't sure, beyond it not being the TK he knew Lito for. In an alley when his life had been threatened to and end-- he knew it but he also did not. Not even half as well as he knew the fingers that trailed down the front of himself, buttons tugged ever so gently against the resistance of his fingers. "Not its name-- though I'd rather not know," he was aware how dismissive it sounded, how disinterested it might have been. "Such is this mind of mine, I've every want to keep some of you secret," tone dark and smirk even darker. The word on his tongue was an easy one though he'd not let it slip.

Obsessive.

"Is that your intent?"

When he'd leaned forward he wasn't sure, though his tone was lower to accommodate their proximity as a hand slipped to slot the delicate stem of his glass through his fingers. "Perhaps you're lucky in this, Lito, to have set your sights on a man already shadowed." Chin dipping in an urging to lift his glass as well. Richard's eyes flickering to the rim of Lito's as it hovered there hoisted and poised. The seconds were thoughtful before they clanged ever so softly together.

"To your success... and the just enjoyment of your punishment,"

Eyes flashing with focus as they met Lito's own, the scrawling of his smirk something waxing as he saw to the soft swirl of the wine in his glass, the soft inhale and even softer sip. Drinking it in with all his senses before the glass was set aside with a light chuckle, dry and brief. "Not very, considering," studied the man a moment, his blink soft and quiet. "One-hundred and fifteen." it felt odd in his mouth, even stranger when he spat it out, but his mind was elsewhere in that moment.

"I wonder, if you've stopped to consider what it is I do," his head would tilt slightly, skin taunt over the harsh line of his jaw. "I've considered a very many thing of you, though I do wonder if my thoughts are as one-sided as I believe them to be," he'd be curious, of course he would, his mind was something that seemed to latch onto the natural wonder of the world and question it. Such a vibrant and wonderful thing that sat between Lito's ears. He'd toss him a bone next, as Lito had Richard only minutes before. "I had a wonder just the other day actually, while talking with my alpha...

"Have you ever been familiar bound, Lito?"


Casual and soft, both lacking and ripe with curiosity.
Jan 9 2018, 03:08 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
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Lito

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Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
I believe I know of what you speak, Richard said, succinctly, and Lito didn’t reply to him. He stared back at him with the same want to be pried open as an animal’s to become someone’s science project. Pry me open, know me had somewhat been in his thoughts when Richard revealed he wanted to know somethings. He wanted to know but only perhaps and only a little, and Lito should have been that prissy, delicate beauty taking offense Richard wasn’t unraveling him like the next best thing on this planet after oxygen.

He was tickled, instead. And watched the man with growing, tame amusement, saying nothing for a moment: none more on this ability he’d earnestly brought up to dangle it like a bone, none that he’d never speak more on it even if Richard begged and moaned and whispered dirty stuff about disobedient boys.

No.

Richard professed he wanted to keep him a secret, and Lito just slowly grinned at him--

“Good.”

He barely opened his lips to say it.

Good. His eyes were dark with intention. He blinked, all slowly. Bit it off and chuckled, leaning back like Richard had said something incredibly hilarious, shadows and men they wrapped and he almost added--

I know.

He did. In a manner. He knew. But did he know it was mutual? Or should he keep it a secret for both of them to discover? To manufacture a night like none other when a bracelet came off and so did the flesh off his bones.

He’d reassemble, pearlescent and beautiful.

Good.

Taking his glass, too, he toasted Richard, his smile calm, mysterious, laden in the amusement he was sure to give up on at some point in the near future. Weeks months years never. He hummed to their toast. And drank, or sipped, treasuring what the flavor did to him; the thick, intense richness of the beverage he almost valued above anything else in the world just from this short encounter now. Richard shared his age and Lito just smiled at him and quipped, “Only?” His brows cocked. His humor stepped in on spot. “Young. Compared to me.” It struck him as thrilling, but he was possibly the only one.

His menu open, skimmed barely and his cheek in his hand again, like he needed its support or the pesky fingers through his curls, he listened to the man, and when the bone was returned, Lito’s smile, slowly, slipped off.

Froze.

“I have not.”

He sat back.

“And I’ve not had the right to consider it proper.” Musing, he lapsed into silence, urging himself to look at the menu as the waiter, again, approached. With the swing in his legs. The fast pace.

His movement. Hurried. Something in Lito’s senses screamed. And the waiter rushing past them tripped over his own legs and fell like any man wanting their shame captured on the internet. The two plates of food he was carrying lurched forward in the move, thrown over Lito and Richard like their new cover.

They wouldn’t land.

With an almost dull, and calm look in his eyes, Lito faced the waiter who didn’t in fact hit the ground, and wouldn’t have; stopped inches away from it and frozen in the shock of how come land and face didn’t meet when the gravity didn’t forgive, he and his plates and the food he’d been carrying were straightened and returned to their exact state of being prior to his clumsy misstep. The waiter blinked, the customers did as well, and Lito just watched him for a silent, strong moment. With a strange, peering intent. With his fingers tapping over the table, and his gaze unforgiving, curious for a moment. He looked at Richard, then.

And the waiter was just looking about himself, trying to find the good soul who’d surely caused him to avoid a new friend. With the floor. Lito was looking at Richard--

“Is that another bone you throw at me? Alright. I know of it too well. But it was never in my family. Perhaps that’s why I should?”

He was dimly amused.

“I didn’t go sorcerer like they wanted me to, I did nothing of what was expected of me at any point of my existence. Perhaps I could fetch myself a familiar.” But it was a strange thought. Lito’s lips quirked--

“I’ll be a fool,” he spoke, scoffing out a sound of coy amusement. He looked down. Pretended he was terribly interested in the menu for now. Ratatouille. Perfect and satisfying.

Lito’s cheeks burned.

“But I’ll likely only get one if there’s more than practical need. Look, ratatouille. Have you ever had it, Richard?”

Ah, yes, the weather was beautiful tonight, let’s talk about that.

--------------------
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Jan 12 2018, 03:57 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
Cautela Pard
Bisexual
Single // Shipped
Rich / Dick

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Proper Puss
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
It was a quiet noise, that hummed almost chuckle that pursed from Richard's throat as Lito poured his mischievous humor into the moment. He'd find himself both young and old in separate matters of speaking though it was a thought process convoluted and not entirely right for the moment. One he'd keep to himself, instead offering Lito a look that passed across the span between them in a smolder he'd no control over. A lie. He simply didn't care to control it. What did he care what the few who glanced their way saw of them? Nothing, he'd assure you of that fact without so much as a fuss otherwise.

Richard's attention was on Lito as he wondered over his interest and how far it'd dug itself into the life sat beside him. Richard's had placed a shovel in hand long days before this point, before even the point of their last contact before this and while his connections were likely further reaching, he was sure there was dirt enough to find on him out there that Lito could have dirtied his hands with something other than blood.

He had not.

Something in Richard praised him long before the parroted word left his mouth.

"Good."

It wasn't purred or rough, simple and crisp, it left his tongue with a gentle flick as his eyes finally made their way to the menu before him. Leather bound and its cover was opened with a soft movement, the dishes all cutely printed in some odd form of half bastardized French that Richard would muse over. He'd liken the move to appear them genuine and authentic while holding enough English to be readable-- fancy int he eyes who didn't read French fluently, he'd suppose. He found nothing contrary in the ingredients as he roamed the pages before him. Most of it familiar enough he could place it or had tasted it before. "No?" This word purred. Half his attention yet on Lito, the half that wanted to give him the other half as well, if only they weren't here to eat.

If only they weren't surrounded but people, innocents at that.

Richard's attention would shift at the rapid pace of feet over the floor, as if he expected an elephant to arrive rushing towards them.

It'd be no elephant at all, rather the waiter as his logical mind assumed it to be, but it was the plates in his hand that caught the eye of the shifter. That paused mid flight to coat Richard and his date in everything half French and half English.

He smelled oysters then, and something thick with heavy cream.

The plates were stilled, as was the man, Richard's gaze easily falling on the witch beside him as the rest of the place stared at the waiter and his miraculous saving grace in a secreted stranger. The warm of magic on the air would tickle Richard softly as he sat and watched, not the miracle, but the secreted stranger. His eyes warm and dark, sizzled perhaps as his interest flared in the deep recesses of himself. This man with power enough for three and he simply sat there with his fingers tapping idly. He was a sight, Lito, and not one that anyone else would note in that moment, save for Richard.

When their eyes reconnected Richard would tame his quietly, the chaos that poured warmth down his spine would quiet-- a boy caught red handed and draped in lust by a passerby. Not as easily identified and classified as pure lust, rather it was a deep welling of interest he'd no room to deny, though again, did tame softly.

Reigns pulled back and eyes calming by slights.

Smoldered still.

Quietly.

Lito would speak and his attention would lapse-- no. His eyes would. Slipping back to the menu to peer at it in some dim want, a boy forced to choose something from a paper when what he really wanted wasn't anything that was there, or would ever fit there.

There had never been thought of a familiar, some part of Richard repeated that word of praise, the rest of him was curious over the why.

A pusher of boundaries and Richard would let the mention drop, at least for the here and now--

"I see,"

Lito's cheeks were ruddy when his attention swam over his face once more, it tickled the man who sat there quiet and suit-bound, his cheeks the same tanned shade they always were.

"I have. Though not in decades,"

As if decided, his menu would snap closed with a soft flick, dark eyes snagging on the waiter as he approached once more. Not a smile to be given but Richard would offer the man an order that followed after Lito's own, one seemingly chosen by the night's events thus far. Lito's own ruddy-cheeked ask after-- ratatouille, and a smell that tickled his nose even now, briny and lingering to get them started off-- oysters. The wine asked after and Richard's chin would dip, a soft thing thing that would linger his eyes on the man with an uncomfortable focus. "It's wonderful, thank you," likely the nicest thing he'd say to the man before he bustled off, orders in hand.

Waiter dispersed and Richard would relax, as much as he ever did, leaning back ever so slightly and observing the restaurant as a whole. A habit he'd never kicked, a weary thought to every lurking corner.

"I'll pass your thoughts along then."

Gaze returning to Lito, quiet and warm and impossibly dark in shade once more.

"In truth, she wasn't terribly enthusiastic herself, my alpha. All the same, she's an incredible young woman who deserves the best at her side," it was nothing he spoke of without fondness, a fondness that curled his lips a bit as his attention lapsed to his wine glass and its lifting from the table. "I'll let her know she'll need to settle for lesser," smooth and clean, his tongue twisted around the compliment easily, before it was washed down in the tart bite of his wine.

"Tell me more of yourself... anything you'd like to part with, while keeping some of you secreted away."

His smile was wan and creeping before he offered a suggested course.

"Like perhaps where you're from, originally?"
Jan 12 2018, 07:46 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
Good. No. Like they were dogs praising each other, gladder for every bit of difficulty that the other proposed.

Pliant, soft, and easy? Wrongs if you were asking Lito and Richard, flaws, even, such that ruined every conversation and left them to mouth at that horribly disappointing flavor left in reminder.

Pliant. And soft.

Easy and then not. A case of a waiter and then them carrying on conversing after they had their order taken. Lito wouldn’t even minutely pretend to understand wine. He didn’t pretend he cared to.

For Richard, he would.

Maybe dabble somewhat, so he could be one of those silly cases of men and women learning something to impress a man. Surely a tactical mistake. Lito couldn’t say he cared. Shout all your views into his head, shout ‘em and scream ‘em to let him know if you were in his shoes, and you’re not, if you were trying to date Richard, and you’re not, you’d not do this and that and he’d tell you, without a smile, without a care for the world--

‘So?’

Like there was a point.

He was considering the man, amused by his revelation. He’d considered going familiar in the past? He had. Why? He didn’t seem the type. Though Lito knew as much about him as he could count on his two hands, the feeling he got from Richard suspected he bowed to a man about as well he did to every pair of eyes here that considered his frame.

He did not.

Lito’s brows quirked then--

“You suggested me to your alpha?” His voice rang with apparent amusement, a thing surely impossible, unlikely and yet from the looks of it an actual situation he’d expected about as well as he would if Richard told him he liked My Little Pony and had a collection. Lito strongly hoped he did not. Shrugging, he widened his grin, and suggested in lilt, “Perhaps it’s not the best you were looking at when you were considering me. I’ll tell you why one day. A word at a time so you can be left guessing what I’m talking about.”

A chuckle stained his tone--

“But thank you,” he crooned, and without ado he slipped a finger below Richard’s chin to position the man--

He kissed him.

In front of this world, in front of every man, like someone staking their claim and saying, this one here is mine, Lito kissed Richard, the corner of his lips and too close to the lips themselves. Lito’s eyes were hooded. And knowing, and dark, and relaxed as he slipped some back, saying, “Europe” and pausing for a while-- and giving Richard an amused, and confident smile. Should have called it easy. It was also it. It was above it though as he considered his partner, lusting after him gradually less and less so as another need entirely replaced the interest for his cock.

Who was this man? That he’d recommend him to his alpha, that he’d look out for her as so, in fact inserting his care into her field vision like he knew better or could, after all... Lito was considering him, silent for a while. Asking, maybe, out loud in a nonverbal manner who this man was and how visibly he cared, how subtly, though, showing nothing, flaunting nothing, just conducting himself in a manner he deemed proper.

It was, Lito would confess, truly a fascinating spectacle.

Richard was a fascination.

Lito’s shoulders sagged--

“Spain. I come from a long ling of witches. I would have been a sorcerer…” Would have. A stress placed. And a break taken like he needed to overstimulate Richard’s head with every question and?, you didn’t?, not?, why not?, and who are you then?

Who?

Lito’s lips wrapped around the answer--

“... What do you know about witches? I suppose not little, not a lot. Similarly, I don’t know so much about you shifters, but I do know that a shifter and a witch form a unique form. It amuses me you’d have thought to fit me to your alpha. However…”

He trailed off, on another teasing purpose. Flashed the white of his teeth and carried on, his tone low and purposefully so, too; to flaunt that he was keeping a lot of secrets down under, choosing his words such that Richard wouldn’t fully know.

“Tell me,” he began, and he boldly placed one of his hands atop Richard’s. Slunk his palm over it and teased the fingers like he'd put them between his.

“If you had to see me in a film, the old fashioned good versus evil struggle at the heart of it, would you see me as a white character, a savior in a dark night, would I be the villain?”

His lips twitched, his smirk lopsided.

“Would I be not?”

--------------------
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Jan 16 2018, 03:13 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
Cautela Pard
Bisexual
Single // Shipped
Rich / Dick

awards

Proper Puss
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
"I did."

An agreement, soft, as soft as that deep and rumbled tone of his would allow of the man. Not soft at all but tone low and too warm. The sort of warm that felt impossibly so. Amused maybe as Lito watched him, ever soft declaration of wrong upon his tongue, as if Richard had maybe not considered every facet of his when he'd made the suggestion to that green-eyed woman. Perhaps he'd not indeed, but it wasn't the man he was offering at all. Richard was no pimp and Lito no whore, nor would Richard offer him like slab of meat than he'd a penchant for sharing. Lito's power however, was the sort Richard had never witnessed outside of fae, and into that, he posed as the best. A man of impeccable power, the sort that would have wet the tongue of anyone hungry for power.

Had Richard been anything thirsty he'd have not offered at all.

He wasn't however, not a man who walked into a room and detailed in notes, which eyes watched him. How many there were. The glint of the thirst in their eyes on a scale of one to I wanna fuck you. Dominant as he was, there was nothing in him that sought to amass any sort of power beneath himself.

He'd nothing to prove, least of all to this whole world.

All the same his mouth would quirk in amusement as Lito heeded his want for the secreted parts to remain as such.

All the same he was thanked in the warm brush of lips his would follow, like a chin canted a head into the petting of a hand. Lids hooded and the chase was lazy but wanting all the same. The sort that wouldn't be successful at all, but bloomed a notion into their bellies that had likely been there from the start. When a man set his sights and walked without a blink, and the other watched in the same.

Interest.

One that had so little to do with how well one man bent for the other, or how well he looked once his finery was stripped from his frame. Interest after the man. The other, and one another and Richard would sit himself there like the businessman he was, filing papers into this interest to amass an investment that would see the motion of it cant across his lips in such a subtle display it was Lito alone who'd recognize it.

Spain.

"But you are not."

Subtle was his tone, knowing, as he connected the previous statements to the current moment. This man who'd done nothing his family had wanted of him. Bold and unpredictable as he was, and yet behind a shut door he became something entirely other. A man capable of more than just the one face. A man who swam Richard's mind over in a curious blend of wants. He felt greedy then, as he waited under the guise of his ever patient mannerisms as a cheek was leaned against a pair of fingers. Regarding the man he felt greedy then, like some beast within had had but a taste and it'd not been enough.

Wanted and wanted again--

"I know... enough. Little of the bond itself, though I have witnessed it. Not for long, but I have."

A business transaction if he were being honest and it was nothing he'd feel capable of describing in any capacity beyond tje basal knowledge of it. Why it amused Lito that he'd been offered as a conduit, Richard wasn't sure, though he found it oddly charming that the man found something amusing in it. The dark of his eyes would narrow as Lito continued, his voice that vexing thing that curled the corner of Richard's lips ever so slightly.

If you trusted Richard's focus then, you'd have maybe assumed he'd not caught the touch at all, so intent upon the other man's face as he was.

Amusement, bold and unabashed would slip across his features then, lids drooping low in a soft show of contentment.

"Ah," gusted, like a subtle purr from his throat, his hand shifting then, turning itself over to splay his fingers across Lito's palm, tickled and teased before it settled there, palm against warm palm. "But this question would assume me a man who watched such a movie and saw it only in black and white." Chin canting softly and he'd regard Lito for a long, thoughtful moment. "If I must choose, one over the other... I think I'd see you more the latter," amusement dwindling and his focus was intent and narrowed down. "White doesn't suit you. Nor would a character of purity. No more than it would myself."

Fingers clasping gently to the stem of his wine glass and he'd watch it a moment as it rose from the table in a gesture thoughtful.

"I do not see the world in black and white, nor do I, you. I've found in too many stories the so called villain, is not always what you're led to believe. Are you a man radiant and good and without tarnish or fault?"

Dark eyes flick to Lito, too intense and peering, far too interested in that moment.

"Absolutely not."

A dark clung to his voice, a shadow that lorded over the lilt of it for but a moment.

"If you're asking if I'm ignorant of your faults. Incapable of seeing you harbor as much dark as anyone else. Or if you're curious after whether I see what I want, or if I see you--"

His temple would tilt then, fingers slotting themselves between Lito's in a clasping that pinned their palms together in a soft squeeze and passed a soft tilt of wine past his lips. Left the moment to linger a moment, considered his wine while he waited the appropriate time to build thought or suspense before his voice shifted quietly from his throat.

"I am not a man who fears the dark, pet."

Richard's smile was faint and heady as it touched the far side of his face, angling his chin towards Lito and canting his gaze to the man's face.

"Not my own, and certainly not yours."
Jan 16 2018, 04:52 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
But he was not. He did not divulge further.

Entertained by the look on Richard, Lito observed him with one part amusement and another a genuine interest in the topic of familiars. It really was odd he’d been suggested for it, at least in the sense he couldn’t think of a single practical man who’d have acknowledged the observed power and considered it for an equally practical purpose. Like it was a shame to hold as much unused strength that rusted in the time it was left to neglect. Lito couldn’t really agree. But Richard’s meddling, well-intended, surely a thing of a conscientious mind accustomed to making decisions for others in the name of a higher good only possibly stained with some spots, tickled his attention with curiosity and fascinated warmth. He wasn’t sure there was any real way of knowing Richard. Not in a way you knew the topic of your next project you’d researched hours before it was due, poring over dense, sprawling texts dripping with pretense. Not unless he let you. Lito’s eyes hooded, affected by the hand atop his own. So Richard had caught the touch. And his eyes were now warm. Lito smiled.

Enraptured by the man’s gaze, he heeded his talking like it were gospel, the word of such and such god bestowed upon the sinner who knelt very eagerly for the weight of the word or cock. That Lito’s thoughts traversed in such a direction can’t have been blamed no less than it could have been questioned. Richard poured his words, and for the look on Lito and his wide-eyed ponder you might have named him a student just now learning the wonders of human expression. He grinned, a moment after. He hooded his gaze so, so very pleasantly, itching to grab his own wine but observing Richard had become his preferred activity, the priority number one. He was not seen as black and white.

Lito’s lips stretched into a smirk.

I’ve killed, he wanted to say suddenly, I’ve taken life, a pouring of facts like he’d damn this curiosity of this man, instead eager to see the face of shock or fear take place. Would Richard? Would he not? Would he shrug and mutter he had too, and would they sit to share their murder stories, and all those names they’d protected by spilling others’ blood, all the family, all the sisters and sons permitted to live until now because they weren’t scared to use a knife?

Maybe.

He noticed the shadow.

A dark, brief swatch that narrowed Lito’s eyes.

Richard could have done any lacing of fingers, but it certainly didn’t disrupt the flow of Lito’s focus; he was seeing the man suddenly, blood-coated and unblinking. I should have known. Only a man equally gray in character could behave himself and talk and Richard. And then.

Lito was curious.

“Who have you killed?”

He was certainly affected by the look on Richard’s eyes. But the mention of the pet, by the heady, seductive glance that prompted Lito to lean forward and if it faded this non-black, non-white world around them, if it killed their perspective and lined the periphery of their visions with copies of themselves, if it made them naked to attack he dared the fate to attempt. His magic seemed more aggressive than ever before, a taut, loaded weapon both ready to stab and fire.

Just give the order.

He leaned closer to the man, his smile dark, mischievous.

“Do I ask too early?”

Perhaps.

“I like your answer. Simultaneously vague and very informative for anyone who wants to listen… Pet. Do you want to torture me? I thought we'd agreed against that.” His lips whispered something against Richard’s--

They were almost kissing because the non-white, non-black Lito didn’t give a damn about the world. Did people disapprove?

Did anything about him suggest he cared at all?

No?

Good.

His hands closed. Balling, he smothered a filthy, and hurried urging to claim that he might have actually lifted from his beautiful, feral world, from his endless forests, from his million many brooks he’d jumped across while running from the storms. He felt dangerous suddenly, this witch. Like a blade too sharp and Richard one of a kind. It made Lito’s eyes cold, for a moment.

A cold not meant to dissuade, and hardly a cold that could if Richard was the right kind of man to sit on its end.

A cold that invited. If he was a mystery that Richard pieced together slowly, a trait at a time adding to what little he knew of him---

Lito wanted him to see. He smirked.

He kissed Richard in one part because he could.

In another, because nobody here knew yet that this man wasn’t available.

They did, now.

Lush, and not at all deep, still the kiss and its need to rub lips was passionate, full of need. He handed it out in doses. A nibble. And another. A second of lips sitting together, half a split of distance. A hint of a tongue but none that would enter. And when Lito did cup the man’s cheek, it was a begging to part his lips--

To meet them, to kiss them together, all open-mouthed and slow while the people here observed. When it broke, when it finally broke and Lito had no further desire to flaunt his need to own, he confessed to Richard, in a manner calm--

“I wanted them to see if anyone looked at you with need, I’d burn down the entire world.”

There was light humor in his words. And warmth in his tone. How? How did he manage?

How?

He grinned--

“... Did I manage, Richard?”

--------------------
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Jan 17 2018, 03:56 AM
54
posts
115 Shifter Business consultant & Entrepreneur
Feline - lion
I pray you do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
Cautela Pard
Bisexual
Single // Shipped
Rich / Dick

awards

Proper Puss
Sarah
she/her/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Richard's lips stretched then, a waxing smirk that looked nothing cruel or focused, a passing whim on a man who didn't often subscribe to such things. Who had he killed? A list of faces and names and species bloomed behind his eyes and he saw them, each and every one. Not a long list, mind you, but lengthy when compared to that of most people in the world around them. It was nothing that bothered him, murder or death, but neither was it anything he looked at with a laugh upon his tongue either. These names and faces were nothing he'd allow past his lips now, neither would he think much of them, no deeper than the passing of their eyes at the back of his own.

His smirk would deepen slightly before it began to wane.

"Hopefully no one you'd have know,"

A confession, as if Lito hadn't known or stated this as a fact at all. A question perhaps, one asked too early, surely-- Richard seemed none to shy in his answering. The statement cleared and left there on a plate like the bone of a steak, picked clean and crisply white if you ignored the clinging of blood and stringy meat.

Their lips were close and while Richard could have told you exactly the bend in Lito that he'd taken to get to that point, he couldn't have told you how or when. So suddenly they were close enough most might have assumed them something looking to seal themselves there and then. But they were still talking, talking of this idea of movie star Lito and his role in a movie about his own life. One decided white in its origin only to gather soot along the way, muddied itself into something gray and gritty.

"I don't recall agreeing to any such,"

His tone was too posh to be talking of torture like it were nothing to worry themselves over, that he'd not be bothered over it in conjuncture to the beside himself. The lion beneath his skin disagreed. In part it did. In any part that didn't include and encompass only this one man and itself. Richard had no issues with torture when they were but ideas whispered beneath the breath in a settling public enough the thought would see Lito's cheeks ruddy and beautiful.

It didn't match the glint in his eyes, something dangerous and odd, nothing of the smiling man with curls that bounced ever so softly when he laughed. Rather it was the man in an alley that had stepped himself into a situation that hadn't been his issue to deal with at all. He needn't have.

He had.

They'd finally seal themselves together and Richard couldn't have told you then where they were or if there were other people present to witness or not. His world narrowed and became thign warm and dangerous man. A man like a dagger that fit perfectly against his palm, it's steel warm where you'd you have assumed it cold and unforgiving. Perhaps he was if you were the wrong palm, if you looked upon him and saw one side and not gray at all. Richard couldn't have been sure of anything else in that moment beyond the stirring beneath his skin, like an electrical pulse as they pushed aside the room to fit lips over lips in a hug of nothing obscene.

Not yet.

Deepened a moment later with a parting of lips that tasted the day of the man he sat beside.

A hand upon his leg, something he'd claim of bracing-- right before he admitted it had everything to do with claiming as well.

There was regret in Richard as they parted, regret the moment was over, though his hand would do nothing to leave the man he stared at with every intensity that the plates set upon the table were nothing that existed at all. Lito posed a question then, something that followed a confession that tickled every basal part of a man so used to chasing, that being chased in return was nothing he rightly understood without some silly fluster in the pit of him.

"I've no idea, Lito,"

He sounded tickled, it lilted his voice in a wavering he wasn't sure he could have contained even if he'd had every want to.

"Why don't you check and make sure,"

It sounded such a silly challenge as it drew his mouth into a soft smirk, one that bunched and threatened their lips with a rub. Richard had no will to look away, to spend any time worrying over the whole of these people that mattered so little. And if they did? If they did look at him with anything like need or want or any such that saw him undressed in the middle of a restaurant, he was sure he'd not note it anyway. Too keen was he upon Lito to pay them any mind.

The sharp smell of their steaming food would draw his attention away in part, leaned him back none but unfocused his eyes by fractions. Composing himself then Richard would lean back finally, an inch or to and in a movement that made to shift them back to the reason they were here at all-- beyond each other.

"You seem very keen over this notion that I know you're not an entity white,"

A casual observation he'd make just as casually as he unfurled the cloth wrapped around his silverware before it smoothed over a thigh--

His hand had, unfortunately, lest the warmth of Lito's thigh by this point.

Necessarily.

"Are you a man haunted, Lito? Or is there some other reason for this particular obsession of yours?"

His eyes would narrow and peer at Lito a long moment, thoughtful, his tone dipping appropriately. Secreted and passed between the pair of them.

"For the record. I never assumed you were one or the other. It was your particular shade of gray and the manner in which you wear it-- self aware and without care, that I find your most attractive quality," his lips would twitch then, peering at the witch a moment too long. A moment longer than would have easily labeled it intense. "I do apologize that my interest in you isn't a vapid one," knuckles would sweep along his cheek then, firm and patterned in care and that same, fabled, deeper interest. Returning his gaze to the table and their plates, Richard would see a sigh from his lungs.

"I say as much as I've no personal means with which to burn the world, however, I am perfectly capable to felling anyone who happens to step in the way of my desire,"

Calm.

Sharp and fixated, his gaze would flick to peer at Lito in everything honest and far too intensely honest.

"At this moment,

“You."
Jan 17 2018, 07:20 AM
258
posts
31 half-nymph / witch baker @ Memento Mori
druid
Realization grew on me, As quickly as it takes your hand, To warm the cool side of the pillow, I'm there for you, be there for me, I'll hum the song the soldiers sing, As they march outside our window
Tenebrae coven supreme
very gay
single/shipped
Lito

awards

no chill factory
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
At that, Lito just smiled. Richard was a murderer. One sitting next to another, Lito addressed their titles without apology and concern; they were what they were, men that had killed and he didn’t hope to describe it otherwise no matter what the people would prefer to hear when he opened his mouth. They were murderers, and a part of him worried, like gray two elements grouping together promised only more blood. And yet he suspected that for all the blood on their hands, none of it had been a random display of strength. There were murderers because the blood existed. Not because deep into the black night they tossed and turned until the whispers of their minds were sated in the guts of an innocent person. He smiled at him, tickled and amused, and even certain that their meeting had been some divine intervention. God existed. Lito wanted to believe that He, however, would think better than to put them together. He didn’t care about men fucking, about the carnality of their meetings and let alone of their need to fit. If they were together, it was because they could make each other better. How he wasn’t sure.

In his mind, it was impossible.

He felt teased and the food arrived.

Sliding himself back, Lito pretended that the good opinion of their audience mattered. He sat up, all proper and interested in the aroma of the arrived food, strong, overpowering, containing seven individual spices he could pick apart with ease though how, why it was that its profile seemed painted clearly across the vision of a person who should have been rightly hoping for enough salt and pepper was nothing Lito wanted answered. Tales long and tales complex and besides, he had made a promise about keeping some secrets to himself. He spun to face his meal, although Richard’s words snagged the corner of his vision like fingers around his throat. Lito idly smirked, and slanted the man a curious expression.

Without the hand on his thigh, and with only the man to his side, Lito had suddenly every room to move without a regard to what was wrong, what was right. And as he listened, his eyes filled with knowing, with understanding.

Was he a man haunted?

Was he a man who carried blood on his hands?

A man who’d have preferred a vapid interest, to be the means to Richard’s orgasm? The hand touched him like a collar ‘round his neck. Taming and pleasant, it quieted a few taller fires that had burned with ambition. And when Richard confirmed something Lito had enough self-confidence to have realized a while back---

He smirked, and remained silent. Or maybe it was a smile.

Facing forward, he was silent just for a brief moment, his gaze scanning the place, the people, all these faces and everything here and when he talked, he wasn’t too sure why he shared these words.

Why he said what he said, at damn all.

“I could kill everyone here. I could pull this place apart, a brick after a brick. I could make you piles, Richard, of every individual element that makes up this place until you no longered how it had looked prior to my decision. I could. I won’t.

“But I could.”


Did he boast? He liked to think he did not. That he’d explained this with some haunting thrill, with the hint of a ring in his lilt and it would carry on until he pinned his gaze on Richard--

“I should be haunted.”

“I am not.”


He raised his fork in a toast, and murmured, “Bon appetit, lover.”

And then they ate. His was a humbler meal, he’d confess. A bit too heavy on the spices, and sometimes threatening with a very carnal element Lito associated with meat. Thankfully, there wasn’t any. When he finished, and he didn’t throw up, and Richard was still here, and still warm, and feline, Lito leaned himself against the man like his missing appendage, and if it made him possessive and like a man staking his claim, he’d prefer it corrected:

A monster.

He was a monster.

A creature of gray and amusement when you addressed him by his real title.

He was a monster.

And he looked at Richard with those very stars in his eyes that should not have been there.

He blinked.

Pulling away without explanation, he bent to adjust something around his foot, and when he pulled back up the stars were gone. He righted himself in his seat, coughing, “Dessert?”, before smiling at Richard compliantly. “Right, I forgot, I’m sorry, you don’t like sweets very much. We won’t get any then. There’s no joy for me to be eating something by myself.

“if I'd wanted to do that in the first place, I’d have lent myself a hand.”


Mischief glared from his face. Lito grinned and for a moment, admired his date.

Challenging and poised, calm and cold, intelligent and focused, and guilty of passion. That was Richard.

Stay still, my beating heart.

“Do you want to go on a stroll together afterwards? I can get something phallic if you want. I’ll deep throat it for some whimsical reason as long as I get you amused for a moment.”

He brimmed with the laughter he didn’t voice. And planted a cheeky and lingering kiss on the corner of Richard’s lips.

--------------------
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