[open] You can set yourself on fire

[smokedout]

who: Jamie Dodger and YOU
what: Catch-all log for late June and July
when: Now through July 30th
where: Alllll over the city
warnings: Dodger. Sex, drugs, violence, threats of torture, cannibal talk and weird consent issues are likely on the table.

--

i. For Kai

[Dodger has picked out a quiet bar in the middle of the city; a spot where the lazy murmur of the crowd is just enough noise to speak clearly without getting overheard. He'd checked all throughout his apartment and confirmed that he has no Lampyr left... which means that instead, he simply has his own wits and a lot of alcohol to pick this man's brain with.

Speaking of which, he's bought a large bottle of fireball whiskey and two glasses for them. And as promised to indicate who Kai is meeting, Dodger's dog is sitting neatly under the table, so still that it's hard to be completely sure if it's real or not.]

ii. For Aeacinos

[Dodger's been in a weird mood lately. A mood where nothing is satisfying and everything is distracting. Already after inviting Aeacinos over, he's gotten up to clean the apartment five times and given Brink all sorts of meaningless tasks just to have something to do; even having him research tricks on his own and show what he found.

Around the third time that Dodger finds himself extracting himself from Aeacinos's coils to check the empty fridge as if that will make food appear, he glances back at the naga with a mildly frustrated look. Not frustrated with Cinos, but mostly with himself.]

This place is a fucking mess... [It's actually spotless, which is slightly weird for Dodger.] ...Hey. What do you figure humans are worth? I mean, how much do you care about killing them?

iii. For Ivar

[Surprise, surprise. Dodger is completely drunk. It's one of those nights, where the weight of existence happens to crash into him at the same time as a desire to mope alone. All things considered, it shouldn't be too much of a surprise that it ends in him calling Ivar; by the sound of it he's put the phone on speaker, and is just mumbling while resting his head.]

Fuck you. Just... fuck you.

[Smooth way to talk to your owner, Jamie.]

[[ooc: hmu at esquivant if you want a starter in here!]]

Comments

[smokedout]

[There are a few choice retorts in Dodger's head, but they're tossed from his mind when Ivar kisses him. His mind stalls, and he very loosely notices himself cupping Ivar's face, pulling him closer and returning the kiss with a sort of desperation to please that is somewhat rare with Dodger.

He breaks off a while later to regain his breath, blinking doe eyes at his master. A request is buzzing around somewhere in his mind; to be hurt, to be kissed again, just to make him feel something. But instead he simply stares at him, as if staring at a god.]

[ragnarsson]

[There's something hungry in Ivar's kiss, the kind that comes from being lonely and sad. He's too fucking broken for anyone else to stay with him. Yet somehow Dodger is still here in his life after a year. That's longer than many have been.]

I always said I'd fuck you only when Ragnarok came around.

[He pulls out a knife, tracing it down Dodger's skin, licking his lips at the sight. His lips brush the shell of Dodger's ear as he whispers into it.]

But I guess never say never.

[smokedout]

[Dodger's breath catches in his throat, unable to tear himself away from Ivar's gaze. Those eyes, just like Ragnar's, have been haunting him for over a year and it seems he'll never truly be rid of them.

The words hit him belatedly and he lets out a quiet, wry laugh.]

Don't expect me to catch... not for you.

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar breathes out and bites the lobe of Dodger's ear before pulling back just a little bit. He's never gone all the way before with a man and there's a small flutter of apprehension curling within him. But he's not backing out now. There's an intensity in his ice-blue eyes as he looks down at Dodger.]

Lucky for you, I can't top with my legs the way they are.

[Much to his consternation. Vikings didn't care much about relationships between men in general, but the one who bottomed was seen as being lesser. Still, Ivar knew he was no longer in his home world, so what did it matter what went on between them?]

[smokedout]

[A shaky breath escapes him, but he's less apprehension and more anticipation. That's a shift in power, even if it ultimately means nothing. It's still something to grasp at, just to feel a little safer.]

So you want me- to fuck you.

[It's half teasing, half clarifying, but somewhere in there he doesn't really want to give Ivar the chance to take it back. He sits up properly then, willing himself to lose just enough of the drunken haze to move coherently.]

Strip, then.

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar traces the line of Dodger's muscles with the knife once more. Apparently, he needs to spell things out for Dodger.]

Did I not make myself clear? I want to have sex with you.

[He begins to remove his clothes. His chest and arms are both nicely toned, the product of a lifetime of using them to get around. The hesitation starts when he has to remove his leg braces and pants. He only does so only slowly and reluctantly. He's never been completely naked in front of another man before in a sexual situation.

His legs are thin, withered things, no muscle on them whatsoever, the bones stretched out taut under thin skin. His face is impassive, though his eyes have a touch of nervousness in them. If Dodger makes a single crack about his legs, by all the gods, he'll kill him on the spot.

[smokedout]

[He'd been fully willing, in his mind, to make jokes about Ivar's legs. He's sure they look broken and weak, he's sure the man is pathetic under all that social armor.

But actually being faced with them is a sobering reality. He's seen legs similar to that; his own, two decades ago. Back when he'd been a skeleton masquerading as a child, begging and stealing to survive since the moment he learned to walk. There's a flicker of something in his gaze as he watches him; concern, maybe, or sympathy.

He doesn't say a word, instead positioning himself over Ivar and running his lips over the Viking's neck, his collarbone, his chest. He isn't going to pretend he feels for the man the way he's felt for his other affairs here, but Ivar is nervous and exposed. And Dodger can't bring himself to be cruel, to someone so far in over their head.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar waits for him to say something about his legs, but aside from a long look, there's nothing. Color him surprised. It's clear he's tense from the way his muscles are bunched up, but they begin to relax under the touch of Dodger's lips. One thing he can at least be sure of is that the mutant knows exactly what he's doing with all the experience he's had.

Meanwhile, Ivar is a live wire, stripped down, all his nerves and emotions that he usually does so well at hiding brought forth to the surface. His mind is in turmoil. He normally never would have even let this happen, but with part of his family now gone, he's hurting, and seeking solace with the one person he knows that's more broken than he is.

His hands come up, running slowly over Dodger's body. Ivar's never really thought much about foreplay before, since generally sex seemed to be a straightforward thing, but he could use some right about now.]

[smokedout]

[Dodger looks up and watches him for a moment as Ivar starts to feel him up, just considering him. Many men that he's slept with, especially his bosses, were happy to just lean back and let him do all the work. Content that they wouldn't be seen as lesser as long as they were using him, not sleeping with him. But here is Ivar trying to engage with him, and that's a bit curious.

His mouth opens to ask what's going on with him, but he thinks better of it. He doesn't want to know, and Ivar won't want to answer. Instead he leans up and kisses him, and this kiss is warm, slow and gentle. There's a sort of comfort to it that he reserves for when he knows he's taking someone beyond their comfort zone, mixed with an effort to encourage more of those touches.]

You're going.. to fucking die if anyone finds out about this. [The smell of booze is so much heavier when their mouths are just about touching.] So let's make it worth it. Yeah?

[ragnarsson]

[The kiss Dodger gives him, so full of gentleness and sweetness, is completely unexpected. Ivar can stand almost anything but kindness from people. Kindness almost feels like it might hurt sometimes, for he receives it so rarely, and always expects the other shoe to fall, hurting him once again.

If he wasn't so full of conflicting emotions, he might be shaking. As it is, even Dodger's half-hearted threat does nothing to dissuade Ivar. He wraps one hand around Dodger's neck, pulling them closer together. He could say something scathing to Dodger, some command that reinforces their relationship, but he can't find it in himself to do so.]

Make it good.

[Then his hands are back to exploring Dodger's body, running over the curve of his shoulders, and slowly down his back.]

[smokedout]

[He lets out a small grunt of acknowledgement, leaning back down to deliver a harsh nip to Ivar's neck, just short enough that the mark will heal quickly. One of his hands clumsily starts to explore Ivar's body in turn, down his stomach and hip and hesitating noticeably when he reaches his leg.

His hand clenches briefly into a fist before instead slipping around his cock, stroking it with slow motions that are less about pleasure and more about exploration. All that's important here is the act of touching him, and that fact that he's been allowed to.]

[ragnarsson]

[There's a shuddering gasp as Dodger's hand closes around his dick. He's done this once before, but that had been a bit different at the hospital. He's trying not to have performance anxiety and just let himself enjoy the moment. He's had sex before and knows that he can do this if he doesn't overthink it. His dick responds to the friction and touch, though it takes perhaps a little longer than it might for some other men.

He's about half-hard when he begins to calm down, knowing he won't have the same troubles he did with Margrethe, being unable to perform at all. His nails dig into Dodger's back, leaving red crescents and then longer marks as he drags his hands down his back.]

[smokedout]

[Dodger begins to pant softly, his hands shaking a bit as he fumbles with getting his own pants off. Or at least, shoved down far enough that he can relieve the pressure.

There's a few moments where he stalls, sucking on Ivar's lip and contemplating how to take advantage of him. But, whether it's compassion or a desire to stay on Ragnar's good side, he decides to walk a neutral ground between them. His hand shifts to hold both of their cocks, rubbing them together slowly and deliberately.]

You can do more than that. [His words come out as a breathy growl.] Go on. Leave some scars.

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar sucks in a deep breath as if he's forgotten how to take more than one at a time. There's a moment where he groans as Dodger's hand moves over both their cocks. He's never gotten an amount of pleasure like this from being with a man before.

At the request, Ivar complies, digging his nails in hard enough this time to break the skin. He can feel the dampness of blood as it trickles down in thin ribbons Dodger's back. He takes one of his hands and brings it around to his face, licking off the bits of blood with his tongue.]