sleepytimejunction | oh my god there was one bed.

oh my god there was one bed.

[You know how it is. A new location opens up in the City, and then they're off to investigate despite all of the weird shit that's happened in the past. By now, not a lot surprises Daan; not to say he doesn't react to anything, but it's more with exasperation than anything else, and this isn't especially all that different.

The residential district that opened up felt off already. Most of the buildings uniform, some odd loft-like setting inside of them. More like a single room cottage than housing, but it's also the kind of place he wouldn't have minded staying as a kid. Not exactly saying much, but it's a sturdy roof over the head and, presumably, some clean furniture.

The problem is that the door has locked behind them, and there aren't windows, otherwise breaking out would be too easy. Because of fucking course.]

It's about that time that I wish I had any lockpicking skills at all. Then again, I doubt that'd do us much good here...

Anyway. If we go have anything like past patterns to go by, this should be temporary. So we've got that going for us.

[Probably.]

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[Briefly, Daan pauses, watching how Vergilius flinches away from his touch. He knows this kind of sign, the way the past dictates how they can process or decide such things.

It's selfish and awful, but all he can think of about the prospect of dying is so what? Death for himself has never been a frightening concept, only dying before he'd ever know the truth about Elise. But that, in turn, is probably also cruel to Vergilius, who has a more fragile heart than he cares to admit.]

Considering the kind of places we're from... well, I can't blame you for being afraid.

So you tell me, then. What the fuck do I deserve? [When all he's ever gotten was being spat in the face by gods, their twisted morality, and probable betrayal.]

And when do I get to tell you what you deserve?

Edited 2023-10-16 18:49 (UTC)

[He almost perceptibly winces at the curse - of course Daan isn't happy. Who would, after a moment like they shared?]

[But it has to be done.]

[He's resolved to sink in the well of his karma alone.]

...You deserve to be happy.

[He's sincere about that. He means it with every fiber of his being.]

Doctor. [Please.] Daan. I don't deserve you.

Don't "doctor" me. This isn't my office.

[And it feels-- after all of that, after hearing his name spoken like that, and how much all Daan wanted was to keep hearing it. Like he was worth something, like he was adored, loved. Vergilius does say his name here, but Daan's reaction to hearing "doctor" after all this is completely an impulse kneejerk reaction, angry and a little hurt.

He breathes in, trying to ground himself. Trying not to spiral. It's... difficult, when all of his instincts tell him to hiss and lash out not unlike he'd done with Midnight in the past. Frightened of being vulnerable or close again.]

Then I guess it's a real conundrum when the happiest I've been is with you. Isn't it? Even in this... I don't know, not even an argument with us.

[Slowly, Daan sits up, but not exactly pulling away from Vergilius.]

I can't make you change your mind. But I'll tell you what I think you deserve. I think... you also deserve to be happy. Even if the things in your life tell you that you have to be otherwise. The things that have hurt you, the things that have been taken from you.

I don't know everything you've done or not done in your life. How could I? But I know what you're like. You care, more than you want to admit. You can be a bit cold, but you think you have to be. But you also try to do the right thing anyway. Even if you don't always know what that is, you try, and that's hell of a lot more than most people.

...And you're the first person I've been with that's... probably ever cared about my happiness. Or what I wanted. And I feel weirdly okay being open with you.

So there you go. In so many words, I think you deserve to be happy, too. Even if you're scared to take it. It doesn't even have to be with me, Vergilius. But you do deserve even an inch out of this shitty world. It won't give it to you otherwise.

[He's never had anyone talk to him like this. A part of him wants to snap in anger. Another part of him wants to hang his head, ashamed, admonished. It's one thing if this came from a stranger, where he could simply let it all slide off his back and move on solidly without a care.]

[Hearing it from Daan makes him feel something twist in the depths of his stomach. His eyes widen - that red gaze, staring through the shadows of his hair, fixates on the other's face.]

Funny how...I could say the same things about you.

[He reaches up, fingertips grazing against the man's cheek.]

I'm a killer. I'll continue to kill. I've bathed in blood like nothing else. Am I not anathema to you?

Edited 2023-10-16 20:15 (UTC)

[Well. All of that near-righteous frustration is almost sapped from him with the way Vergilius looks at him. The touch against his cheek. Daan closes his eyes briefly, his lips trembling for a moment before he hesitantly leans his head into the fingertips daring to touch him.

Yeah. That's fair. At least half of what he said -- if not more -- was probably also describing a bit of himself. Yet he's a bleeding heart in a lot of ways, too. His stark inability to turn his back on patients who genuinely need help. He's a sucker, sometimes.

Maybe Vergilius is, too.]

I don't know that I'm that much different, to be honest.

[Carefully, he reaches up to touch the back of Vergilius' hand.]

I'm not unfamiliar with the amount of blood on my hands, too. Maybe it's drops in a pool in comparison, but it's there.

But I wouldn't ask you to be anyone else other than who you are.

[He would be sincerely surprised if Daan got anywhere close to the amount of things he's done with his hands. Daan, after all, is a doctor, isn't he? He's here to save others.]

[When has he ever saved anyone?]

I couldn't be changed even if I tried.

[As if to emphasize that. There's no going back for him. The fingers on his hand make him still for a second.]

[His eyes flicker towards those trembling lips.]

There's still hope for you, yet. If anything, I'll...do everything I can for that. For that singular hope.

[He can't help himself - he leans up to kiss him, gently, feeling a tremble start in his own hand.]

[Hope for Daan. That sounds absurd, he hasn't felt hopeful for much in so long. Though maybe Vergilius does just draw that out of him, as well. Making him hope for a bit more, yearn for kindness, grab onto the affection given to him like a starved animal being presented with the most pathetic of meals.

He returns the kiss with a shudder, still skittish and uncertain, but he does want it. Whatever is willingly given to him. So he leans into it lightly, hesitantly holding onto the Fixer's hand more, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles.]

Well. Seems like I can't see myself the way you see me either.

Maybe because you've got the eyes for it. [hey if he tries a little humor misdirection maybe it won't be so obvious how emotionally vulnerable he is right now]

...Just don't come up with shit like that for me. "You deserve better" and all that. You are better than anything else I've ever had. I mean it.

[And he goes in for another kiss. Just as cautious, just as light.]

Ha. This gaze sees all, you know.

["But it's true". He wants to say. "You're better than me."]

[He doesn't say it at all. Ah, how did he get so malleable to the emotions of others? Daan looks at him this way, kisses him this way, and he can't even begin to unroll his spiel of why, exactly, this shouldn't work, why Daan should find someone else.]

[...Maybe that's simply what he'll do. He won't break Daan's heart. But when the time comes, he'll push him aside to save him, and descend into hell.]

[That's where he's going to go. He'll make sure the good doctor won't be pulled in with him.]

Okay. I won't. [He returns the kiss, smiling briefly.] Just stop stealing the words from my mouth, alright?

[In retrospect, it's a strange thought to him that the efforts to push him away were based on Vergilius' concerns and fears. Naturally that very much tracks for the man; Daan knows he can be soft in ways, and his worries are clear to him. It's just he isn't used to that concern being directed at him so much, and he could have more easily anticipated reasons to be rejected than all of that.

But, in true Vergilius fashion, it'd been for his sake. Daan was right, he can be sweet, in his own way.]

Well, it's not my fault you can't think of your own words. [He teases, of course, finding himself leaning into whatever kiss he can earn.]

We still have one problem, though.

[Reluctantly, he glances at the door that had shut and locked them both in here. YEP, now what...]

Should I regale you with poetry, instead?

[He's more of a poet than most people would assume - even if he's vulgar sometimes, he can't help it. Something about such language sings in his soul.]

[He's still a little awkward with the affection, not used to it, but happy for it all the same. Daan feels so right in his arms. It's the worst and best feeling in the world.]

Mm? [Oh. Right. He also glances to it.] I don't suppose another round will make it open?

[He's joking.]

[Mostly.]

If you know any, you'd be one up on me.

[Really, he doesn't even expect Vergilius to know any poetry off the cuff, but it's a nice idea.

The suggestion makes him snort.]

Gotta be a new low for this place. Locking people inside until they fornicate. Should've at least did us a favor with some modicum of supplies, but I guess they at least gave us a bed.

[There's a brief pause, and he leans in closer. Not that he needs to whisper anything, but he wouldn't mind teasing Vergilius like this too: settling up to murmur in his ear.]

I don't have a gag reflex, by the way.

[He nips at his earlobe.]

Maybe I will.

[Now. Maybe later. It makes his heart quicken a little. Maybe later. Like that's a possibility now, even if part of him wants to reject it on instinct.]

[The further description makes his breath puff out in a soundless laugh, but when Daan leans in to whisper into his ear...]

[Well. That ear is warming up in an instant. It's like Daan's breath and little bite has managed to set it alight.]

...Ah.

[Ah.]

That's... [A little clearing of the throat, his hand shifting to tangle into the man's hair.] Good to know. Very good to know.

[Phew.]

Mind giving this old guide a...um. Demonstration?

[A soft sigh escapes him at the hand in his hair, and he offers a faint, crooked smile.]

Well, we've got plenty of time to kill. Don't we?

[Fingertips drag lightly down Vergilius' chest, trailing down to rest against his hip.]

Sit on the edge of the bed for me, won't you. And I'll show you in intimate detail.

We do. Not like we're going anywhere.

[Just here, together, with no one to disturb them. Not even the world.]

[He had rejected the idea of "momentary satisfaction" not too long ago. But something like this feels like something frozen in time. It may be a dot of time compared with a flow of events but...there's something to it, too, he thinks.]

[He follows the other's direction, grasping onto him to easily move him off as he sits on the edge.]

[He kisses his cheek, feeling like he's asking for it.]</smallI I'm all yours, Daan.

[There's something so much more intimate about a kiss on the cheek than most things, oddly enough. He fails to hide a smile before he's arranging himself to slide off the mattress, kneeling down in front of the other man. Hands rest on Vergilius' knees, coaxing them to spread so he can comfortably nudge between them.

Clever fingers gently find Vergilius' cock again, just tenderly holding it before he leans in to give the tip a slow lick. Still the lingering flavor of before, his handkerchief cleaning only as much as it could. That's fine, though; it hardly deters him. He's been keen to taste him proper anyway.

Daan looks up, kissing the end of his dick.]

[The doctor is diligent. Vergilius allows himself to be moved, arranged, whatever is needed. It's immense trust, unspoken - he knows Daan wouldn't hurt him.]

[The glow from his eyes intensifies as the man takes him in hand. Vergilius moves to rest his gnarled hand on the side of the man's head, fingertips circling over his scalp.]

[The kiss might be light even compared to the lick, but it sends a distinct shudder through his body.]

Mm. [A shame he's down there. He says what comes to mind, voice rumbling through his ribcage.] That's a look that deserves a kiss, later.

[His free hand comes up to just briefly touch the other man's against his head. As if he can't really help himself and wants to keep acknowledging him, every action.

The promise of a kiss later earns something of a coy look through his eyelashes, and he bows his head further to lick a lazy stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, encouraging him to get hard again. A soft, brief suck at the tip, another lazy rub with his tongue, and that seems enough to satisfy Daan before he starts to take him completely into his mouth and throat.

It's gradual. Not because he's even being cautious, to be honest, but because he doesn't want to rush this; something to be said about a little foreplay, even if it's scant.

Inevitably, he does take the other man down to the hilt, nose bumping lightly against Vergilius' abdomen. Daan swallows, breathing hard through his nose.]

[This suddenly reminds Vergilius of that time in the hall of mirrors. Daan taking care of his wound with careful movements of the bandage, and then the overwhelming, heated feelings that came afterward with the spell. But there is no magic here. The feelings here are his, and his alone. It doesn't feel like he's looking at a version of himself he doesn't know what to do with.]

[Daan's tongue is masterfully moved along his cock, but he only has a brief moment to enjoy the heat starting to pool once more in his abdomen before the doctor makes his decisive move to start to take him in. Vergilius' eyes widen, gasping and hissing as his grip tightens in reaction.]

Ah - shit, Daan-

[Now that sends a heady flow of sensation from his head to his groin - he almost feels lightheaded. He looks down, sees the man's eyelashes (were they always so long?) fluttering, his cock surrounded by perfect, wet heat.]

[Damn.]

...Wow.

[His thumb twists to slide up and over the other's ear. tweaking the lobe with a gentleness. A quick intake of breath, his expression more than appreciative.]

You look...gorgeous.

[The tighter grip in his hair doesn't bother him, and it's expected; honestly, if Vergilius wanted to pull, he wouldn't mind it so much. Mostly, right now, he feels like he's basking, in a bizarre sense, as if he has the easy job; just on his knees with the thickness of the other man's cock in his throat while he gets to watch his face, listen to his voice.

It's worth it, all of it.

He closes his eye, humming softly around his dick at the slight tug to his earlobe. Daan almost wishes his mouth was free to tease Vergilius verbally, to just deflect a little at the sweet compliment. As it is, he can't help but feel himself start to get hard again in turn, but he'll deal with that problem later.

For now, he'd rather focus on Vergilius.

Swallowing again, he draws back slowly, lips dragging off of Vergilius with a soft gasp. Without hesitation, he goes back down, taking him in again, pushing until he has him completely once more. This time, he gives a slow, lazy bob of his head, eye opening against as he stares up at Vergilius.]

[He really is making this look like the easiest thing in the world. Like be belongs here. Like he was made to take him all in, and treat him right.]

[And what a thought that is. He never thought he would deserve to be happy. But Daan, this bastard, makes him have a sliver of terrible hope.]

[He wants to return the favor. Whatever little Daan gives, he'll return hundredfold, in unspoken ways. He deserves nothing less. The good doctor's price for choosing this old husk to bestow his attention on.]

[The way he bobs down his cock makes his legs twitch upward, a sweat breaking out over his forehead as he tries his best to keep his composure. His other hand cups the man's cheek, glad to follow along with his movements as his eyes never leave the one staring up at him.]

That's it. Keep going. [Another movement, and his eyelids are fluttering, his throat edging out into a low moan.] Daan.

[The encouragement settles into him, but hearing his name moaned prickles up his spine and makes him shiver, a low whine muffled. It's worth it, he thinks to himself almost drunkenly; it's worth anything to hear Vergilius like this, to see him sweat and want, to get his affections and touch.

He breathes in sharp through his nose, palming himself with one hand before he actually starts to stroke. The other grips Vergilius' knee like a lifeline as he starts to more enthusiastically bob his head. It's messy work, but it's expected. Drool starts to drip inevitably down his chin and out of the corners of his mouth, but all he can do is suck and swallow it down.

It cuts into his usual clean appearance, but he doesn't mind becoming undone and ruffled for Vergilius.]

[He knows he's a weapon. The City's tool to clean up their messes, even at his great Grade.]

[But Daan makes him feel, even for a brief moment, that he's just a man.]

[It's a feeling that burns through him - wearing him down, making him melt. He catches the sight of Daan sending a hand diving down between his legs, and he feels like he's going to lose his head into a sudden heady frenzy of lust.]

[But before he can chase his urges, he has to focus on the situation before him. The more Daan moves, the more his abdomial muscles tense and tighten with renewed pleasure. It's so good. There are tears pricking the edges of his eyes.]

Ah. A-ah. Fuck. Daan, I'm...

[He can't finish his sentence - something feels like it snaps, and with a flash he's shifting forward and emptying himself out with a steady hot stream and a low shuddering cry. His hands hold over the other man - even in the throes of his orgasm, he holds Daan like a precious jewel.]

[He doesn't think he'd ever get tired of this, of watching Vergilius be overcome with pleasure and hearing his name spoken in such a way. It's almost too much, the way he's held. Like something to be adored, to beheld. Daan can't think of a single time he's ever been held that way and it makes his heart swell.

Patiently, he swallows down, taking his time as Vergilius finishes in his throat. It's a flavor he's familiar with, but he doesn't mind it at all from the Fixer. He'd do it as many times as it's wanted, gladly, so long as he could watch him cum so beautifully.

A final, slow lick is given to make sure he's cleaned off the other man, even if Daan's mouth is a distinct mess. Lips swollen and red, and fluid staining around. He pants softly, still absently stroking himself.]

Could listen to you for hours like that... [Daan's voice is rougher, but. Well, whatever. He means what he says. Hearing Vergilius like that thrills him, satisfies him in knowing he can bring that kind of pleasure.]

[As he starts to calm down, chest heaving, he notices the look on the other's face. That would be enough to make his heart skip a beat, but then the rough, haggard voice makes him feel something so wild and reckless that it feels like he's about to lose his mind.]

[Daan is still palming over himself. This won't do. Vergilius reacts down, hands grasping around the man as he hauls him up to his lap with the ease of picking up a housecat. Settling him with his back pressed to his chest, Vergilius, in a half embrace, uses his hand to come around and dive down between the man's legs. He grasps onto his cock with a determined certainty, starting to pump it as he practically purrs in the man's ear.]

Do you mean to make good on your promise?

[Whatever pain he feels from the guilt is numbed away from the sheer force of his affection. He moves to kiss and suck over the side of his neck, other hand groping over his chest.]

[Daan can't be the only one having all the fun.]

Shit-- [He almost wheezes out the curse as he's suddenly picked up with such ease. Logically, he knows Vergilius is strong, much stronger than the average human, but it doesn't really become obvious until he feels it like this as he's planted into the other man's lap.

Daan gasps, arching up into the hand stroking him, feeling weirdly small against Vergilius like this. It's not even a bad thing, it's just different.

And he could really listen to his voice like that for as long as it's given to him. So he answers with ease--]

Yes. Fuck yes. [Briefly, he squirms, if only so he can spread out his legs and fuck up into Vergilius' hand eagerly. His head tips to the side, exposing his neck and shoulder, trembling in his hold. A hand comes up, the only steady part of him, an innate nature; he guides the hand groping over his chest to a sensitive nipple, encouraging him to touch as he pleases.]

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