helluvamess | [tlv] character inbox

[tlv] character inbox

"If you're hearing this then I can't be fucked answering right now or some other shit-covered fuckwich is going down on this boat so I'll get back to you when the fuck I can!"

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[The door to Blitzø's cabin looks like a typical shitty apartment door. Inside is pretty much exactly a shitty apartment. The door marked "Loona's room" does not open when tried and it appears that Blitzø himself sleeps on the couch. The walls are covered with images and drawings of horses, however every picture of Blitzø has his face scribbled over.]

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The demon doth protest too much—

Cain lifts his eyebrows, then he puts the bottle to his lips and swallows a mouthful of vodka.

"Oh yeah? What's the other thing? 'Cause it definitely isn't flirting."

"Killing shit, obviously." That he's also certain of. Maybe less so on the barge, but the countless hits in Hell spoke for themselves. Even Moxxie had said the business was doing well lately.

"I don't need this flirting shit, I've got better stuff I could be doing with this tongue." He flicked it out at Cain, long and dexterous enough to curl in a loop suggestively.

"Fucks sake."

But he's smirking while the vodka burns a warm path down the centre of his chest. He's starting to see that Blitzø is not quite the one track mind that he'd like to present himself as... but neither of them are drunk enough to start pushing into that kind of territory.

"How's the murder scene in Hell? You moved on from pitchforks and whatever, right?"

He might just be trying to wind him up a bit with that.

"Of course! I usually go for guns or knives but sometimes you've gotta get creative and beating someone with a bat or impaling some fucker on a stick is always hilarious." This topic is way easier for him, and Blitzø really starts warming up to it.

"But we don't really kill anyone in Hell, that shit gets pretty messy. No, my business takes out contracts on the living on behalf of other dead humans. Say you get wasted and you didn't get revenge on some fucker before you died? We can take care of that for you!"

Cain isn't one to shy away from violence but the pure enthusiasm with which Blitzø jumps onto this new topic has him raising his eyebrows just a little. Sure, though. Why not. He's a demon, isn't he? This kind of shit was probably nothing to him.

Intriguing, really.

"And that kind of shit doesn't get messy?"

"Different kinds." Blitzø's tail flicks as he continues, and if Cain shows interest this topic might go on for a while. "Killing other demons? There's magic and some of them only die if you have holy weapons or shit like that and they're gonna be pissed if you get caught or fail. Then there's people wanting revenge and shit."

Blitzø frowns at that, because the idea alone makes his spines crawl. Easy to think of too many ways that would backfire. "Humans are messy in that there's blood and brains and bits of meat and bone all over the place, some fucker's crying and begging and the bodies keep just piling up... that's fucking hilarious. Best part of the job."

At least he has good job satisfaction.

"Fucking hell."

Look, Cain's been through a lot - he's seen a lot, despite being relatively young - but the enthusiasm does get to be a bit much when he starts describing things with just too much detail. Cain braces himself with another mouthful of alcohol and waves a hand in the imp's direction.

"Enough. Before I start thinking you're wondering how I'd look in pieces."

"Nah," Blitzø laughs. "Nobody's paid me for it and you haven't pissed me off yet. In pieces isn't what I'm wondering how you'd look."

Although he's pretty sure all he's gonna get to see is 'wasted'.

"Gonna make it clear right now that I'm not gonna get on my back for you, Blitz."

Just... putting that out there, and as casually as he says it there's an edge to his words to make it clear that that is not a negotiable boundary.

"If that's a deal breaker for you, sure we can find something else to do with our time."

"Oh is that all?" Blitzø takes another swig and shoves the bottles aside, stretching out on the bar itself despite the sticky residue of various drinks so he can flick his tail under Cain's jaw.

"Hey, you wanna plow this tight little hole, I'm not saying that's off the table. Pretty sure you're too wasted for it though."

"Not this soon. Barely had anything to drink yet."

On purpose, if he's being honest. He's already got it in mind that the both of them could use the distraction and sex is the best way he knows of doing that. It's not like he's chugging Everclear this time.

"Not put off by a bit of voyeurism either, but I've got a feeling being caught in here would get us both barred."

"So you do have a tolerance after all," Blitzø teases with a wide, sharp toothed grin. The night was starting to look up a little more, although with Cain's remark he raises an eyebrow.

"What, you thinking about going back to yours and putting on a show for that blond partner of yours?"

"Pffft."

God, Abel might actually like that, but it's not something Cain's going to spring on him without asking first. Especially with Blitz being non-human. "Maybe next time. Gotta make sure your performance is up to scratch."

"Yeah well." Blitzø sobers up a little, dropping the flirting to shrug. "I don't have a bed at my place."

It had never really been a problem before, but he also typically didn't take anyone back to his room if he could help it. For that among other reasons.

"Guess we could use one of the empty rooms around here. There's usually a couple on my level."

"Pft, I got a place too, you know. And it does have a bed."

Not a bad bed either, to be honest. He wouldn't mind having a shower but eh, the communal ones do in a pinch, when he's not hanging out in Abel's room.

"Not getting shy on me now, are you?"

"I've never been shy in my life!" Blitzø lies, lyingly. "And no way I'm shy about that! I'm easily the best head you'll get on this ship, guaranteed!"

You know, just in case Cain had any doubt about his ego there. "I just don't wanna ruin you for your little blond later, not without you knowing what you're getting into."

The protest comes too quickly - it's enough to make Cain smirk at him even if he doesn't verbally challenge what he said.

"Don't think you're capable."

Of ruining him for Abel? Damn, he doesn't think anyone would ever be able to do that. It's not just about the sex anymore. At least... it's not for him. It's been that way for a while.

"But you're welcome to give it your best shot."

"You're fucking on, let's go."

The alcohol is forgotten now as Blitzø pulls himself back up to sitting and leans over to Cain, dragging the tip of his tail along his jaw.

"Which way's your room?"

"Down the hall."

They happen to be on the same floor as his cabin, isn't that lucky? Cain snatches up the end of Blitz's tail and maintains eye contact as he slips the pointed tip between his lips, briefly dragging the tip of his tongue over it before letting go with a smirk.

"C'mon. Before I start to chafe."

Definitely not what he saw himself doing tonight, but why the fuck not.

Cain grabs for his tail and Blitzø instinctively winces, not quite certain what to expect but as Cain teases it just briefly with his tongue, Blitzø freezes entirely. The other man couldn't have known that the spade is sensitive as fuck but he can probably guess from the wide-eyed stare and flush of colour on Blitzø's face that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

"..uh-huh, right. Hallway, just... how far again?" Fuck, he's stumbling over his words like he's never been touched before and shakes his head to clear it.

There's a lot to be read into that. The wince and apparent expectation of pain swinging quickly to the complete opposite as Cain teases him instead. He might not look even the slightest bit human but that sequence of reactions is easy enough for Cain to read.

"Cabin nineteen."

So, not that far at all. Cain is still smirking as he curls his fingers around Blitz's wrist and pulls him out of the Speakeasy, moving down the hall with confident purpose.

"You got any hard 'no's, Blitz?" Just making casual conversation, acting like he's overlooking the way the imp stumbled over himself.

Well ok, cocky fucker definitely had some practise to back it up, but Blitzø is quickly getting back into the swing of things as he follows after Cain.

"Eh, you know, normal stuff. Don't break any bones cause I don't heal any faster than you do, if we're getting knives involved just don't rip anything open that's gonna be fatal cause that's a mood killer... Uh, I don't think you're gonna have anything like barbed wire or bear traps so we can skip over those..."

There's a whole different level of kinks when it comes to demons and he has to remind himself that Cain is, as far as he knows, human.

"I guess if you're just talking vanilla, there's not much I haven't done already."

He has definitely not forgotten that Blitz isn't human, nor of the differences between them, but the answer to that question throws it back up into sharp relief for a moment.

"Bear traps," he echoes. Hard to see how one makes bear traps sexy in any way, but sure, demon stuff. Cain just shakes his head as they reach his door and unlocks it, pushing it open.

Inside the room is fairly simple and tidy, comfortable enough without looking like somewhere Cain has really settled. There's a bed and a small side table, a closet, and a slightly worn couch with a low table in front of it that has a few books stacked at one end. A couple of shelves have odd knick-knacks scattered across them. The door to the washroom (sans shower, of course) is cracked slightly open.

"Could go for blood play some time, if I can get hold of a knife that'll allow for it."

"Fuck, I left my knives," Blitzø sighs. It's not technically true; there is one in his boot but it was a gift from Johann and he's not keen to part with it for anyone. As they enter the room, he looks around with clear interest, taking in the space and how it looks both lived in and somehow not. There's no attachment to it like he has in his own shitty apartment or any of the other rooms he's been in here. It makes him think more of a hotel room someone's lived in for a while without making it their own much.

He pauses inside the door to remove his boots, largely to ensure the knife is still tucked away, and there's the soft tap of hooves on the floor in place of footsteps.

"Guess we'll have to have fun with that some other time."

"Guess we will."

Cain kicks his boots off, leaving them haphazardly in front of the couch as he crosses the room. He hooks the back of the collar of his t-shirt with his thumb and pulls it off, dropping it on the end of the bed as he turns around and sits on the edge of it, leaning back on the heels of his hands.

The fighter is broad-shouldered and well-muscled without being overly chiselled, all slender toned strength, and as he settles his weight back slightly he flashes Blitzø a smirk.

"Think we can have enough fun for the time being without it. C'mere."

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