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.
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?"
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.
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."
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.
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."
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.
"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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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."
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?~"
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."
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.
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.
Yet again, this Mordecai gave him nothing but surprises!
Suddenly the tables were literally turned and Lec found himself hitting the bottom of the tub with a thud; at first he thought the man was going to grab an unseen knife or something and threaten to murder him right there, but he found himself pleasantly surprised when the other had situated himself in between Lectyr's legs, their chests pressed against each other, and he became keenly aware of the growing problem of both of their arousals.
He raised his eyebrows; Dylan had managed to successfully wipe the smirk off of his face for a brief moment, but now it came right back as he realized what the man was saying.
"Now see," He said, not struggling, and in fact helping the other get his shirt off, "I was just going to jerk you off and escape into the night but if you're feeling brave enough to plow me little boy you go right on ahead." He growled, taunting the man and just daring him to see if he was bluffing or not (which he was.) He was determined to win, and determined to call out this Mordecai and teach him a thing or two about people--things almost never go according to plan, especially when there are people, like Lectyr, involved.
Of course he felt even better once he was out of his shirt, the water droplets on his pecs and shoulders glinting in the sunlight; he was a bit of a tankier build than the Mordecai was, thicker muscles, but he was also fairly certain he might have been an inch or two shorter as well, not that Lectyr gave a damn.
Regardless of what the other man wanted Lec was pretty sure he'd be able to escape this encounter victorious, and he was damn well going to try. He glanced down to their groins, both of them now unable to hide anything, with Lec's pants so tight and Dylan's... Nowhere to be seen. He raised an eyebrow at him.
"So what's it gonna be?" He couldn't exactly get his pants off on his own in the cramped tub with the other right in between his legs, so right now it truly was Dylan's call.
Goddammit.
Dylan should have anticipated this. The shirt was off and the chest was bare and he growled low in his throat to the best of his human abilities. Which wasn't well. This was stupid. Terrible. How could shit get worse?
Slowly, Dylan moved to sit up back on his knees, ignoring the state of his body. His teeth ground together in his irritation and being caught on his bluff. He couldn't bring himself to forcefully use someone. Even in anger. Even as a power move. The idea of it made him sick and the bluff was called, which meant that doing it would be pointless.
Letting go of the man's hands, he sat back, breathing quick in his attempts to restrain himself from just drowning the son of a bitch. Fuck this guy. Goddammit. Swallowing, he glared, body on displace, hands on either side of the tub to squeeze it for something to do with his hands. "Get out," He panted, not bothering to hide the full blown erection that was very very obvious and quite on display.
"Just get out and that'll be it. You'll go free. I'll finish my bath. We carry on. You leave me alone - forever - or i'll throw you into fucking jail," Dylan tossed his head to get the hair off of his face, cheeks still rosy from arousal and anger, "So get. The fuck. Out of my house."
Lectyr raised both eyebrows, tilting his head curiously at the man as he watched him sit up. Clearly he'd called the stranger's bullshit--oh, right. How could he forget? Everybody in Connlaoth thought they were all straight, even though it only took a quick glance to see that Murderface here wasn't.
Speaking of the view, Lec found himself distracted and mildly entranced with the view in front of him. Water droplets rolling down the Mordecai's toned torso to his hips and down further to a throbbing erection that was just begging for attention.
His green eyes flicked back up to the man's face, hazey and warm with his own arousal as he slowly sat up more in the tub, his hands ghosting along the other's thighs.
"You really think I can just turn around and leave when you're looking like this?" He asked, honestly but still with that same smirk. "Let's be real here Mordecai if I were to leave right now we'd both be sore losers and you'd still throw me in jail the next moment you see me even if I leave you alone, and besides--" He glanced down to the man's erection and then back up to his face, grinning. "I told you I was going to win."
With one hand on Dylan's hip to guide him and the other pushing against his abdomen he--as gently as he could, anyways--shoved him to sit on the edge of the tub, up at a slightly higher angle so that Lec could switch to perching on his knees with his head in between the other man's legs, tongue sliding up the Mordecai's shaft to the tip of his erection and then back down again, taking him into his mouth on the way until he'd sheathed him all the way to the hilt in one smooth movement.
Lectyr had never been one of those types to be selfish when it came to sex, and he didn't find pleasuring others to be any kind of bruise to his ego; he liked making other people feel good, though this was a little bit more than that--more of a way for him to win, and to terrorize this poor Mordecai who'd decided to stick his nose in the wrong person's business those few days ago.
One hand stayed on the redhead's thigh, giving it a soft and gentle squeeze while the other ventured to just below Dylan's shaft to fondle what he found there while he sucked him off, obviously determined to win by his own rules and not the other way around.
It was a strange blend of feelings.
External and internal.
He sat back as was guided because it was either that or fall over, his hands were gripping the side of the tub and he squeezed it for dear life. "You're not going to win, you little fuck, what exactly do you ---aaah..." Dylan gasped at the sensation of someones fucking tongue on his dick. Sure as fuck no ladies have done that and holy fuck what the shit was this. Dylan's hand went from the side of the tub to fist into the runner's hair with every intention of ripping him up and off his dick but - "Holy Fuck," he panted.
Instead of pushing, he spread his legs a little and his head tipped back. Breath hot. His hand fisted harder in the hair though, "The fuck are you doing?" He gritted through his teeth, flushed and grumpy and angry and holy fuck why did that feel so good? This was a man! Another guy! Right there topless in the tub and he'd just practically swallowed his dick. That was a thing? Clearly that was a thing.
Dylan had never been the best at finding companion ship. Occasionally a high class expensive whore when he felt like he needed it but other than that buying himself a wife and heir wasn't working. Guys had never done it before. Surely he'd have known by now if men turned his cogs but ... "Oh my God," He panted, bending forward slightly, the fist in his Runner's hair loosening slightly and instead turning into an open hand on the back of his head. His other hand was white knuckled on the edge of the tub.
He made sure to drag his nails from the bottom of the other mans neck to the back of his head. A little bit of pain because every nerve ending was screaming with anger as surely as it was screaming with pleasure, "The fuck you trying to prove?" He panted, pleasure building up in his belly and threatening to turn violent, "This getting you off?"
The other man's commentary alone was making this whole exchange priceless, as if it hadn't been beforehand. Lec didn't complain when the Mordecai's hand shot out and grabbed a rough fistful of his hair, though he let out a slight growl that vibrated against the man's dick as he took it all the way in again, laving his tongue along the underside and loving the slightly salty taste.
He looked up at him, watching the redhead's neck curve, adams apple bobbing slightly as he moaned and panted; Lec could feel his own erection throbbing, desperate for attention, but he was able to focus enough on the man before him to ignore it.
But gods was he pretty to look at during sex. He wondered what the Mordecai's face would have been like if Lec had spread his legs and taken him like he so desperately wanted to, or if he'd let it happen the other way around. Hey, Lec was never one to complain--he didn't let his ego get in the way of his fun, that was just silly.
He drew his gaze back down and closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations--the taste, the smell of the other man so rich before him, the feeling of every rise and bump of the veins along his throbbing length. He let the pressure between his tongue and the roof of his mouth work for him, sucking and squeezing while Dylan tried to comprehend what in the world was happening to him.
He briefly glanced up at the man's question, before looking back down again to the task at hand as he continued to grope and play. He slid his mouth off of the soldier's dick with a satisfying pop, blowing on it now with the sudden lack of heat surrounding it sure to send a shiver up the redhead's spine.
"Honestly? Yes." This was totally getting him off. "So no, I'm not really trying to prove anything--so just shut up and let yourself enjoy it." He said with a grin before he went back down on him, focusing more on the head of his length, swirling around it with his tongue and sucking directly on it while he slid the hand up that had been playing with Dylan's balls to instead grasp and gently stroke the remaining lower portion of his shaft.
Lec knew of course he wasn't going to orgasm like this, or that Dylan would return the favor; he was still enjoying it, though. Playing with another man, particularly one this fiesty, it wasn't something he got to enjoy every single day.
It would be so easy to just let himself be in the moment. Let him use the person in front of him like an object. Come down his throat and push him away like he was a cheap prostitute. Which he should do. Dylan had his lower lip clamped between his teeth and he took deep steady breaths - this was insane. Normal people didn't just let people that piss them off give them blowjobs.
What if this guy bit off his dick? Obviously when he had a raging hard on, thinking ahead wasn't Dylan's best ability. Still, his hand rested on his runner's head and his fingers were pressed into his hair. It was a confusing time, his cock in another man's mouth. The scent of man and soap heavy in the room. Wet clothing. The sun was pouring in through the window and making the water droplets almost picturesque.
"Shut the fuck up," Dylan ground out, letting his head tip back after a moment before he moved both hands to the other mans head. If he wanted to be down there and getting used, then that was exactly what Dylan was going to do to him. "You want me to fuck you?" He hissed, digging his thumbs into his runner's jaw, right by the ear. No doubt it would be uncomfortable. Dylan took the lead then, using the mouth for his own pleasure. No caring about the noises or how uncomfortable it would be.
His grip was harsh and he grunted softly, not willing to let on exactly what was going on in the bathroom. "You want it down your throat or on your face?" Dylan hissed, finally pulling his hands away to go back to the tub, face flushed and with a mix of sweat and water on his torso. Maybe if he bruised the back of this guy's throat he'd never want to come by again. Maybe if Dylan made him feel like less than human he'd just go the fuck away. Get the picture. Or maybe, his runner would like it and come crawling back for more.
It was hard to laugh with someone's dick in your mouth so Lec had to restrain himself to a snort of amusement when the Mordecai told him to shut the fuck up. He looked up then, as the other man started to move his hands and he asked him if he wanted to be fucked.
Before he could even answer, he felt a sharp pain in between his jaw and his ear that forced him to open his mouth even more as he let out a slight noise of discomfort before the man started mercilessly thrusting into him, using him like a whore and honestly?
Lec totally loved it.
Everything, even the pain, it just made him ache that much harder as he obediently took the man in, groaning as he held back his gag reflexes every time the Mordecai hit the back of his throat; the whole thing made him dizzy.
He was released from the man's grasp and he coughed, a string of saliva linking his tongue with the tip of the soldier's dick as he leaned back a bit, hands going back to the sides of the tub. Aw, poor guy, he really probably wasn't used to needing endurance, if this whole encounter told Lec anything about the guy's sex life--it was nonexistent.
He grinned at the question, wiping the spit away from his mouth as he looked up at the man with that challenging look in his eyes, the one Dylan hated so much. "You do whatever makes you feel better, Mordecai. And I told you before--if you wanna fuck me you go right on ahead, if you can that is."
As he spoke he put his hand next to the other's on the side of the tub, raising himself just out of the water enough to hover over Dylan, gripping his erection and holding it tight at the base so he couldn't come or lose any of the pleasure building up just yet as he leaned in and kissed him, biting at the man's lower lip in an attempt to get him to open up his mouth so he could slip his tongue in and taste him.
Lec was so fired up, the lust making his mind hazy--it was hard to be a good boy and not just spread this jerk's legs and take him. He wanted to. So fucking bad. But that'd be pushing it too far, even he would admit that. He wasn't here to permanently scar anyone for life, he was just here for a good time, and he was curious what he could get the Mordecai to do with the right poking and prodding. The sounds he made were so pretty and tantalizing, the look on his face absolutely priceless while he fought to keep his breath steady--Lec wanted to see more of it.
He hadn't anticipated loving this with this guy so much, loving the whole scene on display before him, the smells, the warmth of his skin under Lec's touch. If he could get this to last even an hour more he'd be happy, because he wasn't quite ready to stop playing with this guy, not just yet.
No.
No no no.
This was all wrong.
It was like a fog was being lifted from his eyes and Dylan panted heavily, rage and lust lingering in his chest because... Why? His hair clung to his face from either water or sweat - he couldn't tell. Well, the lust was from having some strange who absolutely infuriated him down there by his dick. Dylan couldn't believe this was happening. Anger made him do it right? Was that a thing?
His mismatched eyes went wide when the shitty mage shit gripped his dick and just held it and... Started to talk and Fuck. "What?" Dylan exhaled sharply, hands gripping the sides of the tub harder, unable to keep his hips from jerking back and forth impatiently. Angrily?
"Fuck, I don't give a shit what you do," He breathed, head tipping back while he breathed slowly and deeply through his mouth. He could feel his pulse in his dick and he wanted to just... What? Dylan looked at his weird tub companion, his reddish hair clinging to his face and neck, mouth open, lips bitten red. A flush to his cheeks. Calm.
Dylan closed his eyes and took slow calming breaths, hands unclinging from the side of the tub and moved to gently push through Lec's hair. Tongue between his teeth as an outlet instead of gripping the tub. "What are you after?" Dylans gentle grip turned harsh, fingers threading through the hair and tugging, "What exactly are you after, mage?" He hissed, clearly unable to keep his calm longer than a minute and a half. "Use your words."