[They can figure out the clean up and mattress replacement situation later. Right now he can feel hot blood and the body of his roommate growing cooler.
While they kiss, he slathers some of that blood over his cock and positions himself between Dodger’s thighs, holding his breath as he pushes into him. He’s not sure if he’s going to end up with second degree burns on his prick, but this was the moment of truth.
He groans deeply at the right heat of him around his cock, but it is a little disappointing that he can’t get too hot while he bleeds out. Lester doesn’t delay as he starts to fuck the man beneath him. It’s better than he expected so he doesn’t resist the urge to pound away before Dodger loses consciousness or dies.]
[Dodger numbly registers Lester slicking his cock, and it gets a small laugh out of him. His breath catches in his throat when Lester pushes into him, and he tenses, completely sure that he'll be burning the man-
-Except he doesn't, and in that moment he's in absolute heaven. His heart is pounding, chest heaving with ragged breaths, but in between he's moaning like a bitch in heat. Almost thoughtlessly he fumbles to grab the older man's hand, weakly pushing it toward his neck. Half asking to be choked, half aware that he can keep this up just a little longer if they keep pressure on that wound.]
Fuck... [He pants, his eyes unfocused and needy.] Fuck, that's good...
[Lester puts a hand over the wound as he's directed, and leans a bit more weight into it as he applies pressure to attempt to stop the bleeding as best he can. He's pretty sure Dodger knows Lester doesn't care if he bleeds out or not, but it is important to him to keep the man alive before he can finish. Fucking a corpse is not on his list of things to enjoy in the afterlife--if that's what this place was.]
Shut up. Don't talk.
[He'd tell him not even breathe if he thought Dodger might be able to do that. Lester adds a second hand, squeezing at that throat with both hands as his hips pick up pace and slap against his ass as he fucks him hard. There's no concern for Dodger's pleasure and if he might be enjoying it, Lester's just relentlessly chasing his own release, fucking that warm tight hote as long as he can before the warmth leaves him completely.
[Being told to shut up puts a lopsided grin on his face, his pupils now blown with arousal even as his skin turns ghostly pale. It's exactly that lack of concern for him that turns him on, and he writhes with moans that are caught and stuck in his throat as he's choked.
His heart is beating out of his chest, and when he closes his eyes he can almost hear Arzial laughing. Can almost feel the cold of the stone table against his back, as that man abuses him for the entertainment of a crowd. The more his blood drains, the harder it is to pull himself out of the memory, and yet he can't stop it. Even if he wanted to, it feels too fucking good to pull away from.
His grip loosens on the sheets, blood still pooling under Lester's fingers, and the fire slowly flickers out of his eyes. He isn't dead yet, but he's died enough times now that he can feel the sweet release rising up, the cold seeping softly into his limbs. The look left on his face has a trace of fear, but mostly desire, and adoration. A look of worship for a terrible, terrible idol.]
Come on, you idiot. Stay with me. I'm fucking close.
[He hisses as he continues to deep dick the man relentlessly. Obviously he's not afraid to hurt him when he's already bleeding out. Lester wouldn't be in a hurry but after the heat of him starts to reach normal, it goes even further until he's noticeably getting cold as his skin pales from the blood loss.
Lester feels no remorse. He usually doesn't, but with the promise that Dodger would be back around after he died and came back made it so that this was practically guilt free. Hence how easily he slipped that blade into the side of his neck. It's not often he gets to fuck someone who's almost virgin tight without any sort of concern for them tearing. If Dodger was dead after, what would he care? Hell, he might not even remember.
Lester's hands stop trying to apply pressure to ease bleeding and instead just begin to choke the mutant. He's going to come soon and he doesn't let up even after he spills his load inside Dodger, groaning.]
Fuck...shit... [His hips keep moving as he tries to milk himself for every drop he has in him, keeping Dodgers airway closed. Does a dying man need to breathe to come? It would be funny if he died or passed out before he could finish. It's fucked up, but funny, and it brings a smirk to his lips.]
[There's a perverse, dazed sort of grin on his face when Lester comes, when he feels it getting fucked deep inside of him. His head is pounding from the lack of blood and oxygen, and he feels himself right on the verge of passing out, but he manages to heat that peak just before. His vision blacks out, and he comes almost violently, his back arching as he spills his seed across Lester's stomach.
There's still a smirk on his lips as he sinks back into the mattress, and his eyes flutter shut. He isn't dead, but he's losing consciousness fast and the orgasm certainly didn't help in that regard. And dear lord, there is a lot of blood on this bed now.]
[Dodger finishes, and Lester eases up on his throat. He wants to just lie there in his state of bliss for a bit longer, but knows that there's at least a couple reasons he shouldn't let the guy bleed out like this. He sighs, forcing himself up to grab a discarded shirt to wrap around Dodger's neck pretty tight to help stop the bleeding while he can go grab shit to take care of the wound.
He's not the best at stitches but he fan thread a needle and get the job done better than most of the asshole he spends time with at home. And also from his time in Silent Hill. He doesn't seem to care that he's naked as he settles beside Dodger, pulling away the saturated shirt to start stitching him shut.]
I'd give you something to drink but I don't want you to bleed out or I'd have a lot more than blood to explain to Francis. Pass out if you want, but don't die. I'll wake you up to drink something so you can get somewhat hydrated again...Unless there's a hospital around here so you can get a transfusion or something?
[He's speaking to Dodger casually like he wasn't literally bleeding out just moments ago, only now he's got the stitches gone and he's about halfway finished.]
[Dodger's sense of time is fading in and out. Lester is there, there's something on his neck.. then Lester is gone, and he isn't sure how long it's been... and then he's back, and there's a sharp pain in his neck as the last stitch is tied off.
He closes his eyes tightly before blinking them open, fighting for some level of coherency. It's all a blur, and his brain is a slurry of satisfaction and bliss and-]
Francis...
[Fuck, Francis would be devastated if he saw this, nevermind if Dodger actually died from it. For a moment his eyes shine with panic, but he's far too weak to act on it. And almost immediately the light fades again, and he's slipping out of conscience as his eyes slide shut for another micronap.]
[It'd be nice if he could start an IV or something, but that's outside his expertise. In the many years experience he had of patching himself up, the best he was usually able to do was narrowly avoid death, and that's the only thing he can do for Dodger at the moment.]
Yeah, think about Francis if that helps.
[He doesn't care. He just doesn't want the kid to lose it and stab him in the neck in his sleep out of revenge or something. Kid could call himself a hero if he wanted, but there was a very apparent dark side that Lester didn't particularly want to see. He sees the panic in Dodger's eyes and sighs.]
Calm down, it's fine. I'll clean this shit up. No one has to know. Come on. [Lester leans down to hoist the man up and set him down elsewhere. He throws a couple blankets on him once he's got him cleaned up, then goes to work on all of the rest of the blood in his room that would be sure to bring questions if not dealt with. If Dodger comes to again he'll find he's in a significantly cleaner room with water nearby, and a decent bandaging job on his neck. Lester will be somewhere nearby, still naked, and smoking a cigarette.]
[A bit of rest does help, and he wakes up groggy but at least able to think straight. His head swims when he sits up, but he pushes through it to take that water and drain it.]
Fuck...
[His everything hurts, but mostly his neck and his ass. Ugh.]
That was good... [He hesitates.] We're not letting the kid know, yeah...?
[If Lester has any remorse for almost having killed Dodger just to fuck, he's not showing it. He's mostly focused on making sure Francis doesn't lash out at him for causing damage to...whatever the guy was to the kid. Kitten wrangler?]
Don't move too much, idiot. Just rest.
[He takes the compliment easily, smirking at first, then sighs when Dodger suggest he not stab and tell. Lying wasn't worth the effort, but he could just stay quiet about it.] About fucking you, or about the hole in your neck that I just sewed shut?
[He grumbles slightly, but flops back down into the bed, wincing as the motion pulls at the stitches in his neck.]
Both. [He glances a way for a moment, and shrugs awkwardly.] He doesn't like it when I get hurt.
[Not that there's any chance of him missing it. Francis has noticed bruises on him that Dodger hadn't even noticed himself.]
If he asks I'm gonna tell him I did it to myself. [Or rather, that will be the story if Francis really won't take 'mind your own business' as an answer.]
[Which, Lester hopes, isn't something he has to point out to Dodger. It should have been obvious.]
Do whatever you want. I won't say anything. [He and Francis have a good relationship, but Lester isn't the sort to talk much about what he does with other people, and even if asked he's not one to talk. He'd take the torture. Still, Fancis was smart. He might have had some idea what was going on anyway without needing to be told.]
It'll be fine. Don't worry about it, but take care of the kid.
[Shockingly, it does take Dodger by surprise. His eyes widen a bit, and the look he shoots Lester is just sort of confused and curious.]
He's got a tough life, every death hits hard. [He shrugs awkwardly.] He's not a fucking freak like us, right?
[And he's still moving around, because he's the worst patient... currently on the hunt for his cigarettes, because who knows how long he's been out but he's itching to smoke.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cw: blood is lube now ig
While they kiss, he slathers some of that blood over his cock and positions himself between Dodger’s thighs, holding his breath as he pushes into him. He’s not sure if he’s going to end up with second degree burns on his prick, but this was the moment of truth.
He groans deeply at the right heat of him around his cock, but it is a little disappointing that he can’t get too hot while he bleeds out. Lester doesn’t delay as he starts to fuck the man beneath him. It’s better than he expected so he doesn’t resist the urge to pound away before Dodger loses consciousness or dies.]
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-Except he doesn't, and in that moment he's in absolute heaven. His heart is pounding, chest heaving with ragged breaths, but in between he's moaning like a bitch in heat. Almost thoughtlessly he fumbles to grab the older man's hand, weakly pushing it toward his neck. Half asking to be choked, half aware that he can keep this up just a little longer if they keep pressure on that wound.]
Fuck... [He pants, his eyes unfocused and needy.] Fuck, that's good...
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Shut up. Don't talk.
[He'd tell him not even breathe if he thought Dodger might be able to do that. Lester adds a second hand, squeezing at that throat with both hands as his hips pick up pace and slap against his ass as he fucks him hard. There's no concern for Dodger's pleasure and if he might be enjoying it, Lester's just relentlessly chasing his own release, fucking that warm tight hote as long as he can before the warmth leaves him completely.
Time is not on his side anymore.]
You feel so fucking good though.
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His heart is beating out of his chest, and when he closes his eyes he can almost hear Arzial laughing. Can almost feel the cold of the stone table against his back, as that man abuses him for the entertainment of a crowd. The more his blood drains, the harder it is to pull himself out of the memory, and yet he can't stop it. Even if he wanted to, it feels too fucking good to pull away from.
His grip loosens on the sheets, blood still pooling under Lester's fingers, and the fire slowly flickers out of his eyes. He isn't dead yet, but he's died enough times now that he can feel the sweet release rising up, the cold seeping softly into his limbs. The look left on his face has a trace of fear, but mostly desire, and adoration. A look of worship for a terrible, terrible idol.]
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[He hisses as he continues to deep dick the man relentlessly. Obviously he's not afraid to hurt him when he's already bleeding out. Lester wouldn't be in a hurry but after the heat of him starts to reach normal, it goes even further until he's noticeably getting cold as his skin pales from the blood loss.
Lester feels no remorse. He usually doesn't, but with the promise that Dodger would be back around after he died and came back made it so that this was practically guilt free. Hence how easily he slipped that blade into the side of his neck. It's not often he gets to fuck someone who's almost virgin tight without any sort of concern for them tearing. If Dodger was dead after, what would he care? Hell, he might not even remember.
Lester's hands stop trying to apply pressure to ease bleeding and instead just begin to choke the mutant. He's going to come soon and he doesn't let up even after he spills his load inside Dodger, groaning.]
Fuck...shit... [His hips keep moving as he tries to milk himself for every drop he has in him, keeping Dodgers airway closed. Does a dying man need to breathe to come? It would be funny if he died or passed out before he could finish. It's fucked up, but funny, and it brings a smirk to his lips.]
leeeet's dooo the tiiiimewaaaarp agaaaaiiin
There's still a smirk on his lips as he sinks back into the mattress, and his eyes flutter shut. He isn't dead, but he's losing consciousness fast and the orgasm certainly didn't help in that regard. And dear lord, there is a lot of blood on this bed now.]
dances furiously
He's not the best at stitches but he fan thread a needle and get the job done better than most of the asshole he spends time with at home. And also from his time in Silent Hill. He doesn't seem to care that he's naked as he settles beside Dodger, pulling away the saturated shirt to start stitching him shut.]
I'd give you something to drink but I don't want you to bleed out or I'd have a lot more than blood to explain to Francis. Pass out if you want, but don't die. I'll wake you up to drink something so you can get somewhat hydrated again...Unless there's a hospital around here so you can get a transfusion or something?
[He's speaking to Dodger casually like he wasn't literally bleeding out just moments ago, only now he's got the stitches gone and he's about halfway finished.]
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He closes his eyes tightly before blinking them open, fighting for some level of coherency. It's all a blur, and his brain is a slurry of satisfaction and bliss and-]
Francis...
[Fuck, Francis would be devastated if he saw this, nevermind if Dodger actually died from it. For a moment his eyes shine with panic, but he's far too weak to act on it. And almost immediately the light fades again, and he's slipping out of conscience as his eyes slide shut for another micronap.]
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Yeah, think about Francis if that helps.
[He doesn't care. He just doesn't want the kid to lose it and stab him in the neck in his sleep out of revenge or something. Kid could call himself a hero if he wanted, but there was a very apparent dark side that Lester didn't particularly want to see. He sees the panic in Dodger's eyes and sighs.]
Calm down, it's fine. I'll clean this shit up. No one has to know. Come on. [Lester leans down to hoist the man up and set him down elsewhere. He throws a couple blankets on him once he's got him cleaned up, then goes to work on all of the rest of the blood in his room that would be sure to bring questions if not dealt with. If Dodger comes to again he'll find he's in a significantly cleaner room with water nearby, and a decent bandaging job on his neck. Lester will be somewhere nearby, still naked, and smoking a cigarette.]
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Fuck...
[His everything hurts, but mostly his neck and his ass. Ugh.]
That was good... [He hesitates.] We're not letting the kid know, yeah...?
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Don't move too much, idiot. Just rest.
[He takes the compliment easily, smirking at first, then sighs when Dodger suggest he not stab and tell. Lying wasn't worth the effort, but he could just stay quiet about it.] About fucking you, or about the hole in your neck that I just sewed shut?
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Both. [He glances a way for a moment, and shrugs awkwardly.] He doesn't like it when I get hurt.
[Not that there's any chance of him missing it. Francis has noticed bruises on him that Dodger hadn't even noticed himself.]
If he asks I'm gonna tell him I did it to myself. [Or rather, that will be the story if Francis really won't take 'mind your own business' as an answer.]
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[Which, Lester hopes, isn't something he has to point out to Dodger. It should have been obvious.]
Do whatever you want. I won't say anything. [He and Francis have a good relationship, but Lester isn't the sort to talk much about what he does with other people, and even if asked he's not one to talk. He'd take the torture. Still, Fancis was smart. He might have had some idea what was going on anyway without needing to be told.]
It'll be fine. Don't worry about it, but take care of the kid.
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He's got a tough life, every death hits hard. [He shrugs awkwardly.] He's not a fucking freak like us, right?
[And he's still moving around, because he's the worst patient... currently on the hunt for his cigarettes, because who knows how long he's been out but he's itching to smoke.]