[if he shows up to the hotel it's because his phone case is magic and he's there to strangle daken until he feels better. among other things.
so an hour later he's knocking on the door dressed normally in civilian clothes--jeans and a hoodie with baseball cap and large glasses to keep facial recognition away. if he wanted to make a scene he'd break down the door or get in through the window, but he's at least a little wary of unwanted attention tonight.]
Open the fucking door if you don't want me to throw you down 14 stories of 5 star hotel.
[Daken does debate on seeing how much of a tantrum Bullseye would throw if he didn't open the door, but he really would rather not attract any attention while he's here. (Once he's gone is another issue entirely, if the dead guy on the couch is anything to go by, but that's neither here nor there.) So he does, eventually, answer the door.]
[He looks good; shirtless because of course he is, enjoying a glass of overpriced scotch. Of course it's Bullseye so Daken doesn't bother expecting any of that to be appreciated when he opens the door.]
[At the first crack of the door opening, he pushes his way through to shut it behind him. None of it is surprising to him, and it's clear from the way he pushes the body off the couch so he can pour himself a drink and take a seat.
It was far from his plan to pummel Daken and start a fight, but it wasn't everyday he could get free liquor. His eyes dart around the room suspiciously, wondering what he was even doing in town again.]
It's funny. I distinctly remember you callin me ugly. [His eyes narrow when he glares at Daken, but he sips his drink like none of it bothers him.] Anyway, who's the John Doe? Did you sleep with him?
He paid for the room. I got bored of him after that.
[Nonchalant. He's talking to probably the last person in the world who'd give a shit, and maybe Daken likes that. He'd have to do some introspection to figure it out and Daken's managed a good 60 years without any of that nonsense. All he knows is as much as he has to be on guard just in case Bullseye actually does figure out how to kill him, it's nice not having to pretend to hate killing or some shit. It's relaxing.]
He paid for the drinks too. [He raises his glass in a mocking toast.] Real generous guy.
[He mumbles, mostly to himself as he gets a peek of the guy's face. Purely out of habit, Lester reaches down to search for a wallet, and when he doesn't find one settles back against the couch, drink in hand like it's nothing out of the ordinary. He notices Daken keeps watching him, and can't decide if it's because he doesn't trust him or if it's something else. Lester doesn't let himself go down that train of thought.]
Poor guy. Got seduced by the wrong guy and didn't even get a happy ending. Sucks for him. [Lester toasts to that, grinning at how pathetic a death that was.]
[Bit of both. He's made no attempt to hide his attraction, but he's also waiting for the turn. The real shocker here would be if Bullseye showed up just for the sex without some foreplay under the guise of mindless violence first.]
That's life in the city for you.
[He huffs a derisive laugh, moving at the same time to take the bottle and top himself up.]
I hate the city, but this is where the money's at.
[Lester likes to think he's changed since they were running around in the guise of avengers. Not much, but maybe a touch of emotional growth. He still had days where he wanted to kill everyone he came across, sure, but he felt more secure in his mindless violence if that even was possible.
When Daken comes closer to take the bottle, Lester grabs him by the forearm, hard, and yanks him closer.]
When you gave me your room number, you knew I'd come, didn't you? What do you want? A fight or the other thing? Maybe both?
[It's not so much that being yanked surprises him, as that he has no free hands to really right himself the way he wants to. Daken has to settle for putting a knee down on the couch to get his balance. It's closer than he was planning to be; can't quite tell if the blood he can smell is coming off Lester or the couch, and it's a smell that always lights something up in him.]
[Probably why he texted in the first place.]
I think a better question is what do you want?
[Deflecting? A little, but Daken knows either would satisfy that itch for him. He's more curious about Bullseye, looking down at him with a piercing gaze.]
[Lester's grip weakens a little when Daken has to get closer to keep himself upright. He grins up at him from his seated position. The blood isn't his own for a change, though some of the blood from the couch is probably on him by now. He's not unwilling to bleed a little himself if it comes down to it.]
It's been a while. [He admits, and he knows Daken knows what he means. There was no shortage of violence wherever Lester found himself, but it's the other things he has a hard time finding elsewhere. Even if he's still reluctant to admit it. Daken could probably sense the arousal radiating from him as soon as his knee hit the couch.]
Maybe I just wanted someone to drink with. [It's a lie. He came to punch Daken in his smug face, but now that he was here his priorities had shifted. Slightly.]
[Lester isn't good at the whole seduction thing, but he's blunt when he wants to be, and is curious to press buttons he's never tried pushing before. His fingertips slide over Daken's knuckles slowly, the dumb smirk still on his face.] I just came for a good time. Why don't you take out those claws so we can play?
[A long moment ticks over where Daken considers his options, and then he plants his other knee down to straddle Lester, throwing the glass over his shoulder with little care for where it lands. He just needs his hand free.]
[The knuckles under Lester's fingers shift slightly, spreading and compressing to make room, but the claws don't break the skin. His other hand he brings up under his chin in a touch that could almost be affectionate if not for the claw inside his wrist pressing up there too.]
[Lester's grin was wide, and possibly scary to most people. Particularly after Daken straddles his lap. Where he would have thrown him off another time, he's just appreciating the view this time. He's pretty much a human lottery with mood swings that change like the weather. What version of himself he shows is almost random.]
[He doesn't react to the sound of the glass hitting the floor, and he perks up, leaning into the touch until he feels the sharpness of that claw on his skin before he sees it.]
As rough as you want. [His hands wander over the muscles of Daken's abs before settling at the waist of his pants where he starts to undo his belt without a word, and without looking away from him.]
Just.. [He pauses for a second.] don't use that pheromone shit on me this time. [Not that he even knows when Daken's using it from when he isn't, but he does have some boundaries.]
[For a moment he very nearly comments that he could've been using his pheromones this whole time and he'd never know, but Daken restrains himself. He licks his lips and presses just hard enough to break the skin under his chin and drags it down his neck to his clothes, watching the blood pool and dribble down. He doesn't think he's ever actually used his claws on Bullseye before, the feel of that skin under his claws... It's hard to resist the temptation to just plunge his claws into his throat.]
[That's the maximum self-restraint Daken plans to show, redirecting that instinct to grab at Lester's clothes and use his claws to rip and tear through those instead.]
[That fact always makes Lester feel weird. It could have been a good thing if he wanted to constantly be denial about what he felt. He could always brush things off because of that. On the other hand it made it that much more confusing when Daken wasn't around and he had no explanation for the urges he had. The initial sting and then burn as his skin opens up to leak blood is the most he's felt in a long time. So he welcomed it. He doesn't have the ability to heal the way Daken does. Everything would leave a scar.]
[As he shrugs out of shredded clothes his scars from various cuts, scrapes, and maybe one or two bullet wounds are on full display. No claw marks though. Not yet. In comparison to the smooth finish of the other man's skin he looks like he's been through hell. Lester leans forward to bite at the skin of Daken's chest as he tugs down both pants and underwear, some of his blood ending up on the other's skin in the process.]
[It's a good thing he can't see Daken's face at this angle, an expression of smug satisfaction even through the gasp at the feel of teeth on his skin. He almost doesn't care about whether or not Lester's going to be any good so much as he's pleased that he's going straight for it.]
[That hideous baseball cap's gotta go though. Daken takes it and throws it in the vague direction that glass went previously, wrapping an arm around the back of Lester's head to keep him where he is as his thumb traces that scar on his forehead. Claws still out, but he probably won't lose an eye or anything.]
[The smug expression would have definitely set Lester off, so it's better for both of them that he can't. His attention was elsewhere anyway.]
[He turns as to look as Daken does away with his cap, and Lester tosses the glasses as well. A lot of this is new to him. It feels unusual not to be enraged or trying to force the other against the closest wall. His lips continue downward to take his cock into his mouth without a fuss. It's mostly to placate him while he squeezes at two handfuls of Daken's ass.]
[That surprises Daken enough that his breath catches, a claw catching on the skin behind Lester's ear before he decides to put them away. Just for now. He'd very much like to leave his own mark along with all those other scars, but it certainly wouldn't do to accidentally put a claw through the man's throat while he's down there.]
[Though the look on his face would probably be hilarious.]
[Usually he can predict Lester, the man's not exactly complicated, Daken has a fairly decent idea how he'll act in most situations. This is... Something else. Part of him still tense, waiting for the anger and the violence to switch in, another part content to see where things will go if he just lets Lester do what he wants for now. That uncertainty and the excitement of it probably contributes more to getting him hard than the mouth and hands on him, fingertips drifting from his forehead down the side of his face, feeling his cheeks and along his jaw as Daken watches for his reactions.]
[Lester makes a sound to complain, a hand touching the spot to see if he's bleeding--he is, but it's not much.]
[It's true that he's not a complicated guy. His needs were simple and everything else he didn't give two shits about. Right now he just wanted one thing. Something familiar, something safe. Though safe might not be what anyone in their right mind would use to describe Daken, Lester's not generally in his right mind.]
[For all he knew it was a fucking mid-life crisis brought on by the flood of publicized weddings in the 'good guy' camp. Lester's not the least bit interested in marriage, but he wants to get off and he knows Daken is the best at doing it for him. So if he seems eager to get the other man hard without a fuss, he is. Until he feels the touches to his face, and it's enough that he tilts his head back to look up at Daken, cock popping out from between his lips so he can speak.]
[Having the freedom to do whatever he wants when he wants does a lot to keep him level-headed for the most part.]
Stop it. I'm not a fuckin unicorn. [It feels different when he doesn't have a blanket of rage to cover himself in. This makes him feel vulnerable and he doesn't like it.]
I didn't come here to talk. [He didn't come here to suck Daken's dick either, but there they were.]
[No, he's probably the least like a unicorn that Daken's ever met, and he lets out an amused breath. That's part of the allure. Bullseye's all anger and sadism and violence most of the time, the parts of himself that Daken struggles with, and he's attracted to how unrepentant Lester is about who he is.]
[So this right now is confusing for him. Not bad, but maybe Daken keeps testing the waters, to fall back to something familiar.]
Come here then. [He licks his lips and seats himself across Lester's thighs.] Shut me up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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but yeah, ok.
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So you admit you like me then?
[what a shock to absolutely no one]
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no! fuck you. i was just saying it like when you dfoaijsdfa
[and then he throws his phone right out the window, breaking glass possibly setting off a car alarm.]
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I'm assuming you broke your phone, but just in case you didn't, this is where I'm staying while I'm in Manhattan.
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so an hour later he's knocking on the door dressed normally in civilian clothes--jeans and a hoodie with baseball cap and large glasses to keep facial recognition away. if he wanted to make a scene he'd break down the door or get in through the window, but he's at least a little wary of unwanted attention tonight.]
Open the fucking door if you don't want me to throw you down 14 stories of 5 star hotel.
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[He looks good; shirtless because of course he is, enjoying a glass of overpriced scotch. Of course it's Bullseye so Daken doesn't bother expecting any of that to be appreciated when he opens the door.]
Nice to see you too.
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It was far from his plan to pummel Daken and start a fight, but it wasn't everyday he could get free liquor. His eyes dart around the room suspiciously, wondering what he was even doing in town again.]
It's funny. I distinctly remember you callin me ugly. [His eyes narrow when he glares at Daken, but he sips his drink like none of it bothers him.] Anyway, who's the John Doe? Did you sleep with him?
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[Nonchalant. He's talking to probably the last person in the world who'd give a shit, and maybe Daken likes that. He'd have to do some introspection to figure it out and Daken's managed a good 60 years without any of that nonsense. All he knows is as much as he has to be on guard just in case Bullseye actually does figure out how to kill him, it's nice not having to pretend to hate killing or some shit. It's relaxing.]
He paid for the drinks too. [He raises his glass in a mocking toast.] Real generous guy.
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[He mumbles, mostly to himself as he gets a peek of the guy's face. Purely out of habit, Lester reaches down to search for a wallet, and when he doesn't find one settles back against the couch, drink in hand like it's nothing out of the ordinary. He notices Daken keeps watching him, and can't decide if it's because he doesn't trust him or if it's something else. Lester doesn't let himself go down that train of thought.]
Poor guy. Got seduced by the wrong guy and didn't even get a happy ending. Sucks for him. [Lester toasts to that, grinning at how pathetic a death that was.]
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That's life in the city for you.
[He huffs a derisive laugh, moving at the same time to take the bottle and top himself up.]
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[Lester likes to think he's changed since they were running around in the guise of avengers. Not much, but maybe a touch of emotional growth. He still had days where he wanted to kill everyone he came across, sure, but he felt more secure in his mindless violence if that even was possible.
When Daken comes closer to take the bottle, Lester grabs him by the forearm, hard, and yanks him closer.]
When you gave me your room number, you knew I'd come, didn't you? What do you want? A fight or the other thing? Maybe both?
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[Probably why he texted in the first place.]
I think a better question is what do you want?
[Deflecting? A little, but Daken knows either would satisfy that itch for him. He's more curious about Bullseye, looking down at him with a piercing gaze.]
What were you hoping for when you came here?
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It's been a while. [He admits, and he knows Daken knows what he means. There was no shortage of violence wherever Lester found himself, but it's the other things he has a hard time finding elsewhere. Even if he's still reluctant to admit it. Daken could probably sense the arousal radiating from him as soon as his knee hit the couch.]
Maybe I just wanted someone to drink with. [It's a lie. He came to punch Daken in his smug face, but now that he was here his priorities had shifted. Slightly.]
[Lester isn't good at the whole seduction thing, but he's blunt when he wants to be, and is curious to press buttons he's never tried pushing before. His fingertips slide over Daken's knuckles slowly, the dumb smirk still on his face.] I just came for a good time. Why don't you take out those claws so we can play?
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[A long moment ticks over where Daken considers his options, and then he plants his other knee down to straddle Lester, throwing the glass over his shoulder with little care for where it lands. He just needs his hand free.]
[The knuckles under Lester's fingers shift slightly, spreading and compressing to make room, but the claws don't break the skin. His other hand he brings up under his chin in a touch that could almost be affectionate if not for the claw inside his wrist pressing up there too.]
How rough do you wanna play?
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[He doesn't react to the sound of the glass hitting the floor, and he perks up, leaning into the touch until he feels the sharpness of that claw on his skin before he sees it.]
As rough as you want. [His hands wander over the muscles of Daken's abs before settling at the waist of his pants where he starts to undo his belt without a word, and without looking away from him.]
Just.. [He pauses for a second.] don't use that pheromone shit on me this time. [Not that he even knows when Daken's using it from when he isn't, but he does have some boundaries.]
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[That's the maximum self-restraint Daken plans to show, redirecting that instinct to grab at Lester's clothes and use his claws to rip and tear through those instead.]
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[As he shrugs out of shredded clothes his scars from various cuts, scrapes, and maybe one or two bullet wounds are on full display. No claw marks though. Not yet. In comparison to the smooth finish of the other man's skin he looks like he's been through hell. Lester leans forward to bite at the skin of Daken's chest as he tugs down both pants and underwear, some of his blood ending up on the other's skin in the process.]
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[That hideous baseball cap's gotta go though. Daken takes it and throws it in the vague direction that glass went previously, wrapping an arm around the back of Lester's head to keep him where he is as his thumb traces that scar on his forehead. Claws still out, but he probably won't lose an eye or anything.]
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[He turns as to look as Daken does away with his cap, and Lester tosses the glasses as well. A lot of this is new to him. It feels unusual not to be enraged or trying to force the other against the closest wall. His lips continue downward to take his cock into his mouth without a fuss. It's mostly to placate him while he squeezes at two handfuls of Daken's ass.]
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[Though the look on his face would probably be hilarious.]
[Usually he can predict Lester, the man's not exactly complicated, Daken has a fairly decent idea how he'll act in most situations. This is... Something else. Part of him still tense, waiting for the anger and the violence to switch in, another part content to see where things will go if he just lets Lester do what he wants for now. That uncertainty and the excitement of it probably contributes more to getting him hard than the mouth and hands on him, fingertips drifting from his forehead down the side of his face, feeling his cheeks and along his jaw as Daken watches for his reactions.]
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[It's true that he's not a complicated guy. His needs were simple and everything else he didn't give two shits about. Right now he just wanted one thing. Something familiar, something safe. Though safe might not be what anyone in their right mind would use to describe Daken, Lester's not generally in his right mind.]
[For all he knew it was a fucking mid-life crisis brought on by the flood of publicized weddings in the 'good guy' camp. Lester's not the least bit interested in marriage, but he wants to get off and he knows Daken is the best at doing it for him. So if he seems eager to get the other man hard without a fuss, he is. Until he feels the touches to his face, and it's enough that he tilts his head back to look up at Daken, cock popping out from between his lips so he can speak.]
What the fuck are you looking at?
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[Daken looks down at him, thumb brushing over Lester's lower lip. Absolutely pushing his luck, seeing how much he'll put up with.]
You're calm. [Well--] For you.
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Stop it. I'm not a fuckin unicorn. [It feels different when he doesn't have a blanket of rage to cover himself in. This makes him feel vulnerable and he doesn't like it.]
I didn't come here to talk. [He didn't come here to suck Daken's dick either, but there they were.]
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[So this right now is confusing for him. Not bad, but maybe Daken keeps testing the waters, to fall back to something familiar.]
Come here then. [He licks his lips and seats himself across Lester's thighs.] Shut me up.
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