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Collide [M] [Draconian]

Started by Cheesigator, November 14, 2016, 07:42:07 PM

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Cheesigator

Of all places in this world, Connlaoth was easily one of Lectyr's least favorite places, hands down. He was pretty sure he liked Fell better, and he'd never even been there. Yet.

Bright forest green eyes searched through the crowds of people as he walked, the bag on his back quite heavy with illegal goods--some kind of magical talismans, along with some drugs and other fun things.

He was already certain that the local authorities would be well aware of his presence soon enough, if they weren't already. Not that that was going to stop him.

He wove his way through the streets, keeping his eyes peeled for an old contact of his who he'd been doing business with here for several years now. Owned a shop that sold a menagerie of things brought in through import trading, not all of them exactly ordained by the good Duke sir. Not that it was really any of Lec's business; he didn't particularly give two shits as long as he got paid and found a nice place to stay the night, hopefully with not too much trouble.

It was why he'd made up that clever code system of his; they were meeting now, but during negotiations he'd set the time for two hours later. It was so simple but it fooled so many people--knowing that, it was obvious that he felt comfortable walking in his own shoes through the streets. He should be alright.

"Tristan!"

A familiar voice called out a name he'd had to get used to the whole trip up here and he smiled, raising an arm to wave at the older man standing at the backdoor of his shop. "Brought everything?" The man asked.

"Sure did." He slid the backpack strap off his shoulder, handing it over. The weight alone made his contact smile; "Come on inside." "Sure. Got any drinks? It's been a long walk." Lec said with a lazy smirk as he followed the man inside his shop.

Negotiations didn't actually take that long of course--they knew each other well enough, it was rather easy. What took up the two hours of their time spent together was chatting and sharing food and drink; Lec was well aware of the time when they left the shop, standing out front by the wares as the man counted off his money in front of him and handed it to Lec with an easy-going smile.

"Thanks for your hard work." "Thank you for the food, I needed that."

Lec took the pouch of money and dropped it into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and glancing around, suspicious of any potential law enforcement that had been given the wrong time to go catch some unlawful criminals.

Not too far away, he spotted a Mordecai, and for a moment their gaze locked. He smirked.

"Thanks for the business, sir." "Till next time, Tristan."

With that, Lec started to walk away.

Draconian

Little fucker.

Dylan frowned deeply at the sight of someone smirking at him.

Only people who were trouble smirked and he fixed his uniform, fixed his gloves and began his steady walk forward. His gun was holstered, not about to draw it in front of regular civilians. This guy though. Fuck this guy. Probably someone thinking they were sneaky and above the law. His fists clenched and he felt a knuckle pop while he walked forward at a quicker pace.

Sometimes his long legs helped out.

"Best be keepin' that smirk off your face, Boy." Dylan snapped, coming up behind him and grabbing his shoulder before swinging him around so they were face to face. He didn't have as much height on this guy as he usually did - disappointing. All work and no play, Dylan was a little menacing - or at least he tried his best. A frown, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw set.

His hand didn't leave the other mans shoulder for a minute or so, but he gave it a bit of a squeeze to make a point. Sort of. Mostly he was irritated and this little shit had to show up and smirk at him. Fucker.

"What'cha got in that bag?"

Cheesigator

Ahaha. Score.

He thought he knew fun people to mess with when he saw them, and he was totally right. This guy probably had a stick so far up his ass it'd come out his mouth if he sat on it.

Lec felt the hand on his shoulder, and like any decent, obedient citizen, he stopped and turned to give this man his full attention.

Ah, a superiority complex. How cute.

"Boy? I'm sorry sir, but you look about the same age as me, I don't really think that's very nice of you to say." He raised his eyebrows, the smirk giving way to a lax grin as the man asked him what was in his bag.

"My bag? Why sir it's nothing more than my earnings for running a few errands for the good people running your marketplace here. Hardly anything for a Mordecai to be concerned with." Seriously, who did this guy think he was, sticking his nose into other peoples' business?

"Do you do this to every person who smiles at you? I'd hate to be your wife, must be a rule like 'no fun allowed in the house' or something, what a terrible way to live!" His grin grew wider as he dusted off his shoulder where the man's hand had grabbed him, deciding that he wasn't going to bend over easily for this jerk anytime soon, and thus he started walking again.

"You've got too much time on your hands sir, don't you have a witch to be burning right about now?" He called over his shoulder, before laughing.

Now if he could get this guy really riled up, then that'd just be even better.

Draconian

Dylan frowned.

Well, he was always frowning, his frown was frowning. His eyebrows were drawn down and his lips were drawn tight, his chest tightened in anger and his shoulders were tense. Hands balled into fists. What a mouthy little shit. He followed after the man, tense. Irritated. "Must be why I'm not married," He ground out, reaching out to grab the mans shoulder again.

A moment of hesitation before he grabbed it again, fingers digging into his collarbone.

"Show me what's in your bag, Friend," he ground out, lifting an eyebrow. It was personal now. Or something. Either way, Dylan wasn't amused by this guy and he scrunched his nose in distaste because now he'd made a big deal and if he just backed out then... He was the loser.

Dylan wasn't a loser.

"No fun allowed." His hand tightened again, "I manage to live fine."

Cheesigator

He wasn't married, huh? Can't say Lec was exactly surprised to hear that one. But it just gave him ample ammunition to use later.

He felt fingertips digging into his collarbone and he stopped short, letting the Mordecai bump into him; all he had to do was play this bastard up, and shit was going to get very interesting.

He let out a moan, as if the grip digging into his clavicle was a turn on. He wasn't that easy, but this loser wouldn't know that, and Lec had screwed around enough in his life to know how to make it really convincing.

He smirked over his shoulder at the red-haired asshole, glancing down at his hand and then back up to his eyes, which he noticed now didn't match in color. He bit his lip, tauntingly. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours.~"

And then, in the blink of an eye, every muscle tensed and he bolted, jolting from the man's grasp as he took off running through the streets.

Come on now, he wasn't really going to let that jerk see inside his bag--he'd likely make up some bullshit excuse to pilfer some of his earnings for causing him trouble or something. And like hell was Lec about to give up his hard earned money.

At least it was early enough in the day that there were plenty of crowds of people milling about there in the market, and it was plenty easy for him to mix in, ducking low to hide mask his height as he threaded through the throngs of civilians like a fish in water--he'd definitely done this before.

Draconian

With a grunt, Dylan bumped into the other man. Anger coursed through his veins and he hissed in displeasure. This little snarky fuck. The noise threw him off and Dylan tightened his grip, snarling. Then the man turned, looked at him and spoke and his mouth opened and he just stared for a moment, "You--- What,"but before he even finished talking the man had bolted and Dylan was standing there with his hand holding air and his body tense.

"You little fuck!" Dylan snarled, angry. Tense. He bolted after him. Slippery guy. Who apparently really had something to hide. There was a moment where he wanted to call for help but chasing was more important. Proving a point was point was more important. "Get back here," He barked, keeping his eyes on the pale head of hair.

At least he was tall.

Nope. Gone.

Dylan let out a grunt of anger before he started to shuffle past people, pulling shoulders to look at faces. Backpacks. Blonde. He wasn't going to be outdone by some shitty little punk and that was exactly what was happening. Goddamnit. Ah, there. Dylan spotted a familiar looking backpack and his hand wrapped around the shoulder, dragging the poor man to find... An unfamiliar face. Goddamnit.

"I'm gonna find you, you little shit," Dylan snarled to the crowd, pushing through it to an alley. Eyes squeezed shut trying to remember the little fuckers face. Tanned. Sorta his age looking - but he seemed immature so... Fuck that guy. It was personal now. Not really, not personal but Dylan decided that if anyone was going to bring that man in it'd be him.

Ah. Nope.

Right now.

"Got you, you little shit," Dylan huffed out having spotted the proper head of hair. The proper shape of his head, that was that stupid kid. A snarl and he took off again, pushing through the crowd and his hand closed around a bicep, giving it a squeeze. He wouldn't drop it again because of being weirded out by a moan and some words. He refused. "I just have a few questions but you keep insisting on running away," His grip was tight, probably painful - at least he hoped it was. "Maybe I just want to be friends, Kid."

Cheesigator

He could hear the fiery redhead's anger off in the crowd behind him, followed immediately by the disgruntled voices and yelps of the innocents whose day he was now raining on. Man, what a prick.

Lec just grinned to himself as he weaved in and out of people and then paused, waiting for the perfect moment.

A hand grasped his shoulder and the man turned around to be face to face with a very angry looking Mordecai; he, who was also not Lec, instantly put his hands up in surrender. "Whoa whoa sir I think you've got the wrong--"

With an extra spring in his feet Lectyr bolted from where he'd hidden himself in the shadows of a cart. He'd seen an opportunity, and he'd taken it. Because the man who looked so much like him was standing right next to the town square's well, and Mr. Mordecai right beside it as well.

All it took was a calculated bump into Fiery Asshole and the proper shift of his arms and oops Mr Jerkface went tumbling into the stone depths and the water kept inside it.

The loud splash was so satisfying--and so were Lectyr's acting abilities.

"Oh--Oh my Ansgar--that was--that was a Mordecai, who just fell into the well! Quick quick somebody we gotta get some help--SIR ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" He called down, and before Dylan could answer he bolted again, finding a squad of the idiot's commrades and frantically telling them that he'd fallen down into the well, and they quickly scrambled to go help him.

It was pure chaos. And it was so, so easy to slip away amidst all the confusion. He couldn't stop grinning as he snuck off down an alleyway and disappeared, patting his backpack to find all of his coin still there, before he disappeared into the maze of homes and storefronts before the Idiot and his buddies got back on his case.

Ah, he loved his job.

Draconian

"You gotta be fucking me," Dylan ground out. His ankle hurt. His wrist was bleeding. Clothing wet. He now also how to climb out of a fucking well. A slow intake of breath, eyes closed while he tried to commit that little shits face to memory. A calm breath. Slow rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm going to kill that little piece of shit," Dylan announced to the moss along the rocks, looking up. What a day. What a shitty no good day.

The efforts to get Dylan out of the well was valiant and eventually, shivering from cold and a little banged up he was free from the rocky tube that held water. Last time he chased anyone through here. Screw that.

It was back to regular duty a few days later, ready to go and the bandage was off his wrist, it still stung to touch but the cuts were mostly healed and he ignored the gash on the side of his head. At least it was the well, not the thieving little shit, that had hurt him.

Dylan was on regular guard duty, standing in the market, looking above everyone's heads. Keeping an eye out for suspicius activity and as a mediator of sorts. The only mordecai around for a few streets it was just him and the regular guards.

A part of Dylan wanted the slippery littlr trouble maker to come back, just so he could punch him in in his smart little mouth. Dylan ground his teeth at the memory and hated how any pressure that involved his skull made the healing wound on his head ache.

Still, the kid wasnt that stupid. Dylan didnt exactly keep himself hidden (tucked away as he was between some stalls to, in fact, keep himself hidden,) a few questions over the past few days to regular merchants led him to believe that man would be popping up here today. So Dylan waited, ready to spring into action.

Cheesigator

The juicy crunch of teeth biting into an apple was nearly drowned out entirely by the din of the marketplace in Reajh as Lectyr poked around the vendors' stalls, catching up with business partners and collecting little quests to occupy his trip away from Connlaoth with. It was business as usual, of course.

In the few days that he'd been staying in Reajh, staying with a different friend or finding his way into strangers' beds as per the usual, he hadn't come across that fiery asshole of a Mordecai yet and he had to say, he was a little disappointed.

Key word here being, was.

He'd been waiting patiently for one of his usual merchants to pay him for running a quick errand for him, when he caught sight of the man out of the corner of his eye. Had he been standing anywhere else he might not've seen him, but the crowd opened up just enough, conveniently when the jackass wasn't looking in Lec's direction, for him to spot him.

Lec grinned.

He took the small pouch of coin, thanked the businessman and slipped into a back alley, committing where he saw the Mordecai to memory as he slithered through the shadows, hauling himself up onto the roof of one of the buildings. He kept low, crouching as he moved to the edge of the rooftop and looked down to see the mop of red hair just five feet below him.

He took a last bite of apple and dropped the apple core onto the man's head, dusting his hands off as he sat there idly watching the passerby like he had no idea who was standing below him and that it had been completely on accident.

Draconian

It wasn't raining.

Dylan jerked back after feeling whatever it was drop on his head and he looked behind him, a wall. Looked ahead of him and there was no one there. Slowly, he turned slightly and looked up and instantly all he saw was red. Anger made his chest tight and Dylan let out a bark of rage.

"You little shit!" He snapped, and in a fit of rage and adrenaline he climbed the side of a rickety merchant booth, ignoring the fact that it made awful snapping sounds and moved too much. One good leap off of that and his hands were on the roof beside his marks legs, a snarl, red faced and he slowly pulled himself up. This little bastard wasn't going to get away from him again.

Which was probably why doing exactly what he was doing was a bad idea.

There was no way he'd heft himself before this guy bolted... Still, a grunt, fingers hurting from the pressure and his chin was up. One arm was up and he dragged himself carefully. Flung an leg up and he rolled himself onto the roof, panting and angry, not unlike a rabid dog. "I'm gonna get you this time, you fuck!" He barked, angry. Down a well. Dropping a whatever that was - a glance down told him it was an apple, goddamnit - and ... Dylan's nostrils flared in his rage and he squared his shoulders, hands stinging from the rage fueled climb, no doubt they were wounded.

He'd take care of that later.

Cheesigator

Oh! Oh shit!

Yeah this guy was the best thing ever. Nonstop comedic relief--really, Lec wasn't so sure he should've gone into the profession of being a mordecai. No he should've been a court jester instead.

He let out a delighted laugh, grinning with excitement as he hopped to his feet and stepped back, about to run and then... He just stood there and watched as he realized his assumptions that this guy didn't do a whole lot of jumping and climbing were correct.

He laughed some more.

"Careful there old man you might have a heart attack!" He teased, his grin bright and spreading up into his eyes, forest greens shining with delight.

As soon as the mordecai had a leg up and was hoisting himself up over the edge, Lec hopped to the roof of the next nearest building and started running up its slanted curves, finding footholds and quickly springing from them before he could slide on the shingles. It turns out this wasn't the first time he'd been chased, clearly, because he was as good at climbing and jumping off of things as a monkey, springing from one roof to the next and scaling walls onto higher buildings like it was nobody's business.

He swung himself up from a window ledge onto the roof of a three-story building, peering over the edge down at Dylan with that same excited grin.

"You're too slow!" He yelled down before he disappeared out of sight again. If Sir StickUpMyAss didn't hurry up he'd lose Lec again this time for sure.

Draconian

Too slow?

Too fuckin' slow?

Dylan licked his teeth, angry. Red faced. Irritated as all get out and he stood on the roof, clenching and opening his fists. "I'm not too fuckin' slow, you're too fuckin' jumpy," Dylan sneered, for himself more than anything. What a shit show. What a goddamn fuckin' piece of shit shitshow. Goddamnit. Taking a deep breath, Dylan followed after, slipping and getting angrier by the moment.

This was stupid.

This whole thing was stupid.

And there was that stupid bastards head. Goddamnit. What was this shit.

Again with the stupid climbing.

Hardly out of shape and only a little uncoordinated when it came to climbing, it took a moment too long, a slip too many before Dylan made his way up onto the roof. It was that second that he realized that maybe, just maybe he didn't like heights.  Dylan felt his chest tense and his heart pick up in panic instead of anger but then he spotted that bastards head again and he went for it.

A snarl of rage and Dylan pursued the stupid kid again and he was getting so close and he knew that he was going to turn that man's face into pulp. Then throw him in jail. Maybe jail and then pulp. Tie him up and publicly flog him? That sounded good.

"Goddamnit, stop running so I can catch you!" He finally barked, getting angry and tired and he was so close (Or at least he thought he was) and just... One good tackle. All Dylan had to do was one good tackle. He just... Had to get on flat ground first, because currently the ground was too far down there to do a decent tackle that wouldn't also hurt him.

Cheesigator

Ah-ha look at that, his words of encouragement really seemed to do the trick! Now this guy was moving, and that meant that things were only going to get more fun from here.

The angrier he could make this mordecai, the better, because when people get angry they make mistakes--stupid mistakes.

Lec darted around from rooftop to rooftop, almost slipping once or twice but always somehow managing to come out on top and still in one piece. Sir Assholius was still quite a ways behind him though so he slowed down a bit, let the guy catch up. Let him get tantalizingly close, let him taste the lingering scent of victory just within arm's reach.

"What, you want me to stop running?" He yelled over his shoulder as he jumped the gap between two buildings, and stood right on the edge of the second, stopping short, likely right as Dylan had tried jumping for him. There would be nowhere for him to go, nowhere for him to land, with Lec, who was a decent sized, muscular man, standing in the way and blocking him from doing so.

And he did it all with a cheeky grin as he turned on his heel to face his pursuer as soon as his boots touched the rooftop; he gave him a charming shrug and a smile and said, "Alright!"

He reached forward and caught the man mid-air and threw him down, watching as Dylan flail and fall into the streets some good fifteen feet down below, right into a cart of refuse.

Mm, yes. Glorious, glorious art, right there. That was an art form. Definitely.

Draconian

That man was going to die.

Dylan panted heavily, glaring up at the piece of shit whatever the fuck he was. Sure he could have broken his neck if he hadn't had a handy-dandy cart of goddamn garbage to soften his landing.  He hurt. Everything ached. And he glared up at the jumpy-runny-piece of shit on the rooftops. Fuck. Shitting fucking shit.

He couldn't even remember why he was chasing the fucking. To prove himself? Who gave a shit! Goddamn! Now he was a mess. He hurt. His back hurt. His chest hurt from the panting. He was fucked. He just wanted to go home now. Dylan extracted himself from the cart with glares and foul remarks to onlookers before he retreated with his tail tucked between his legs. Little shit. Goddamn little piece of shit.

Dylan didn't even notify a superior that he was going home. Didn't let anyone know where he was going. He just left. Just went home to undress and clean himself and try not to fucking destroy anything on the way. Dylan's face was red with anger. Still. He smelled like garbage. It was probably the most angrily way he'd stripped in his life and he didn't even care that the maids were oggling his muscled back as they took turns filling the bathtub with hot water.

The last one got the full look because the second she was in with the bucket of water, his pants were off and she gave a squeak of surprise before she dumped it into the tub and scurried away. Still pissed, Dylan was surprised the water didn't boil again with how angry he was. The fuck was that shit.

With long sigh he finally relaxed in the tub, eyes closed. Luckily, mostly it was his clothes that got the gross on them. So, he tipped his head back to get his hair wet and simply relaxed. Occasionally opening his eyes to reflect and get pissed off anew. At least it was still sunny out, he turned to glare at the window that poured it's sunshiny light on him in between relaxing and glaring off into space.

Cheesigator

Watching the Mordecai fight to get out of the literal cart of shit, seemingly just giving up because he was apparently too tired and too old to keep giving chase or something, was the most rewarding thing ever.

Lec just crouched there on the rooftop, chin resting in his hands, a lazy grin on his face as he watched the man slink off in utter humiliation, covered in feces and garbage. What a good day.

But who said it could be over just yet?

Suddenly, Lec's eyebrows shot up as his green eyes glowed brightly with a new idea--would he really let his victim get away that easily?

Absolutely not.

He shimmied his way down the rooftops, finding his way back down onto the street and darting off after the Mordecai through the throngs of people, all of whom were still very confused about what had actually just happened. He made sure to maintain a good distance back, sticking to shadows and ninja-ing his way through the streets and alleyways, wondering where exactly his (not-so) little friend was wandering off to.

He couldn't have been more overjoyed when he watched from the cover of some hedges that the Mordecai was going to no place other than his own home. Oh, oh what a score. Not only was it big and lootable, but now he knew where the fucker lived. 8)

Time to go have some fun.

He waited a few moments, watching the guard patterns, and snuck his way up to the estate with perhaps a tad too much practice; now it was just a matter of finding where the bathroom was.

He pressed himself against the exterior walls, crouching and listening under the windows, making his way along and praying a guard or an innocent servant wouldn't notice his obvious spying; and yet as he made his way under a window, he started to raise his head just enough to peek over the edge when the window panes were flung outward by a hurried maid, almost clocking him in the head. He dropped, holding his breath as he listened and heard none other than his favorite Mordecai's disgruntled grumbling, the eep of a terrified servant and a splash; some hot water droplets flew through the window and dropped onto his head.

If his grin could get any more evil, he would have made Satan shudder and hide under a bed.

He kept himself to the corner of the window, slowly raising himself to just barely peek over the edge; he was by Dylan's head, slightly behind it, on this side of the window. The man's eyes were closed, head tilted back, and for a moment Lec found himself slightly distracted; the strength and curve in the man's throat led down to a pretty collarbone that gave way to a rather handsome pair of pecs. He had strong, broad shoulders, plenty of muscles wrapped around his arms.

Okay so maybe the jerk was kind of good-looking. It was to be expected, because he was a Mordecai, a soldier, of course he had to be in shape--but also, Lec hadn't been expecting it because in his mind he'd painted the image of a pathetic loser, and yet here redhead was, what a glory for Lec's green eyes to behold.

Hm. Mixed feelings.

Suddenly he noticed the man's muscles tense and he dropped out of the window just in time for Dylan to not see him when he glared at it; he waited until he heard the sounds of water moving and splashing before he sloooowly peeked in again, with the Mordecai's attention focused somewhere else. As the man moved to sit up and actually start scrubbing some of the filth off of himself, Lec saw his chance and took it.

Carefully he placed his hands on the windowsill and silently hoisted himself up, perching on the ledge and leaning over; he blocked a good portion of the sunlight all of a sudden, but in case that didn't catch the Mordecai's attention quickly enough--

"Yknow for such an old man I really didn't expect you to be this good-looking.~" He practically purred, and the moment Dylan turned to look at him he leaned in, cupping the man's chin with a hand and brought him into a sudden kiss.

God he loved screwing around with this guy.

Draconian

Oh.

The day could get worse.

Dylan honestly didn't expect to be followed home. The shitty piece of shit had took off and he would have fled for safety. Not followed the mordecai home. The voice, however, made him glance, confused because who the hell was that and then.

Was that someone's lips? Yup. Instantly, Dylan's hand shot out, grabbing the collar of the mans shirt and yanking viciously. There was one place to go and it was into the tub with him. Quick as he could, he curled his legs around the other mans to keep him from getting out and clamped his hands around his wrists.

What now though.

"Shouldn't have followed me home," He breathed, voice a soft husky purr because what had been simmering anger was right back to the top again. His heart thumped so hard in his chest his pulse could be seen on his throat. Dylan made sure to keep his head beside the other mans so he couldn't head bash him because that really wasn't on his list of things to do today. At least not anymore.

"You follow everyone home to kiss them?" He hissed, anger, "Give me one good reason why I should let you go instead of hold you here, like this, against me, until the authorities come and get you." then he growled, "And I'm not old. Snarky little shit. Fuck."

Cheesigator

What Lec had not expected was to get pulled into the house. He expected to be pushed out, for the man to scream like a girl and flail around hilariously because ew a man had just kissed him.

So he had to give the Mordecai a point there--he reacted quick and he wasn't stupid about it either. Maybe Lec had been the foolish one here, but, nah. No this was too priceless. This was exactly what he hadn't even realized he'd wanted.

He was pulled into the tub and he let out a slight grunt of surprise, water splashing and sloshing, soaking his loose-fitting clothes and suddenly he found himself leg-locked and held prisoner by the very handsome naked man he'd been oogling not seconds before. His wrists were held down on either side of the soldier and he found his head next to Angry Madface's own; and he was being spoken to, with a low voice that sent a shiver down Lec's spine and made it really hard not to sink his teeth into the man's neck and play with him some more. Really hard.

Lec pondered the question for a moment, the smirk on his face so obvious in his voice it might have been unnerving.

"Only if they're as pretty and fun to play with as you." He admitted, his own voice low and rumbling in his chest, which Dylan was probably getting a perfectly wonderful view of, with Lec's loose shirt hanging down with the weight of the water and his toned torso perfectly visible beyond the drooping neckline.

Suddenly the bathroom door was opened and Lec looked to see a frightened maid stepping inside, covering her eyes. "S-Sir Winterbourne, is everything alri--"

She made the mistake of peeping around her fingers, clearly there to investigate the loud noises, and she stared, mouth gaping, eyes wide and cheeks quickly turning red as she looked on in horror and surprise.

Before Dylan could say anything, Lec winked at her. "Wanna join in?~"

She audibly squeaked and immediately darted back out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her, and her voice could be heard quickly fading on the other side as she likely literally ran away. "I'M SO SORRY SIR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"

Lec looked back to Dylan, eyebrows raised and that evil grin back on his face; now they'd be assured some privacy, perfect.

"I have absolutely no reason to give.~" He purred, perhaps a bit to contentedly; he was able to move his knee just enough to brush it against the Mordecai's groin, and he let his lips brush against the curve of the man's jawline, whispering directly into his ear.

"Why would I possibly want to leave when everything I could ever want is right here beneath me?~"

Draconian

Motherfucker!

"Wait!" Dylan called after the maid, mismatched eyes wide and looking over his shoulder. Though clearly this piece of shit had other plans because while he was trying to tell the maid to go get help she scurried away. Fuck! Goddamn!

"You're a piece of work, you know th--aaah?!" Dylan's words ended in a surprised gasping moan, dipping into anger because this guy just touched his dick! He wanted to push him away. Push him out of the bathtub and just beat the absolute shit out of him. This whole day was this fuckers fault and here he was, purring into his ear and giving him a half-chub because while he didn't like men, the stimulation and the purring were enough to at least remind him that he was a human who hadn't gotten any anytime soon.

Fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck shit.

"What do you want from me?" Dylan grumbled, glaring and pretending that the red on his cheek was from the heat of the water and the humiliation of the day and not because this shitty person above him was getting to him. "I'm still a Mordecai and if this is a stand off, I think I know which of us will win. It's me. I'll win. I'll drag you to prison and you'll rot there," His voice was a growl and he bared his teeth, "So, you got two options. You stay in here, with me, and I drag you to prison or you go away, nicely and I never see you again because then I'll be dragging you to prison."

Cheesigator

Ooh, that little moan was absolutely COMPLETELY worth it. Everything. It was precious. Lec couldn't wipe that evil grin from his face, he was loving this.

Best. Idea. He'd ever. Had.

Although, he was a little disappointed--he normally gave people much more intense raging hard-ons than this. Literally raging. Guess he hadn't pissed off this guy enough.

He glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye, seeing the tinge in his cheeks and smirking.

"All I want from you is enjoyment, thought that'd be obvious by now." He said with a slight chuckle, going about his business despite the ultimatums that the Mordecai attempted to give him; he instead put his focus on playing with the man some more, continuing to rub his knee up against him as he pressed soft kisses and gentle nips down the man's neck to his collarbone and chest--hey, he hadn't told him no.

"Mm, I guess you could say it's a stand off, but not the kind you're thinking of. And I'm pretty sure I'm gonna win." He said with a smirk, looking up at Dylan with that mischievous glint in those green eyes that would've told Dylan all he needed to know if he took the time to read them.

"How about I propose a third option?" He said, leaning up until their faces were only an inch apart. "How about we enjoy a few moments together and I soothe that bruised ego of yours? Nobody tells a soul, and we go our separate ways?~"

As he spoke he had subtly leaned in closer, until their lips were brushing as he spoke, never breaking eye contact with the man's mismatched gaze, brushing up against him and doing everything in his power to distract him from the fact that he was slowly slipping his wrist free and bringing it closer to the Mordecai's half-woken length to give it a teasing stroke, right as he caught the man's lips in another kiss.

One thing Lectyr was not always so innocent of was toying with people in more ways than just pranking them; he was good with emotions, good with figuring people out--and he really liked manipulating them. He never did it maliciously--just for his own amusement. But he just couldn't help himself with this one; again, he hadn't said no, he was pretty, and Lectyr just found this so hilariously funny. He'd love telling his friends about this story later.

Draconian

Was this guy talking about what he think he was talking about?

Dylan felt a vacuum in his chest like everything was suddenly empty and he just needed to collapse in on himself and stop existing because the talking was enough and then there was kissing and touching and the fact he didn't hate it instantly alarmed him more than the fact someone was kissing and touching him. Of course, the reaction was violent and there was a deep angry noise before Dylan turned them in the tub so the little shit was on the bottom.

Again he dragged his wrists up, holding them tightly in both his hands. Though, this meant Dylan was pressed between the other mans legs. To hide his slowly growing erection he pressed their torso's together - though he knew the other man could feel it. His face was red with shame and anger and he squeezed the wrists to the point of bruising. Just above breaking.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" He hissed, glaring down, eyes narrow. Is this what this little shit wanted? A roll in the tub? Dylan let go of Lec's top and started to pull at his shirt, not caring if he was maybe ripping fabric, "Is this all your fucking want? A quick fuck? I can give you that. But it won't be nice and fulfilling, maybe it will be fore me, but it'll just hurt you and you'll leave here with a sore ass and bruises and heading to jail." Dylan growled through clenched teeth, mostly bluffing. Mostly.

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