xistentia | o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

Entry tags:

o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

Characters: Janus Lefevre & you
Summary: Closed and open threads for Janus, which I'm starting now ALTHOUGH I PRObably can't tag back til next week. An erstwhile murderer goes about their business in a post-apocalyptic world, such as picking people up at the bar and eating cookies. It's fine.
Date(s): August & September 2017
Warnings/Notes: Possibly some sexual stuff, non-graphic references to violence

open { bar;

[in the past few years, janus has learned a thing or two about being a person, doing regular person things, like for example the time-honored tradition of kind of sort of maybe picking someone up at a bar. making friends. contributing through some mystical means to the defense of a refugee city outflung in the reaches beyond the multiversal apocalypse. you know, the usual.

janus is at the citadel tonight. though defense systems and mysterious laboratories may take up much of the building, the lounge still has its cheesy music and dance floor and opulent indoor forest. it's a little weird, but then again, so is janus— a shadw under 6', muscular, dressed all in black, without enough facial expressions, quiet as a shadow until they abruptly appear at one's elbow.]

Allow me to buy you a drink. [a beat. they remember that things in xistentia are in general free-- the booze at this bar, especially.] Or make you one. I'm very exact with measurements. Goldilocks' ideal partner, once she's legal.

[look. a few years ago, they were a lot less smooth than this.]

open { misc! weird stalking;

[it's not that janus is following anyone specifically, they just have a habit of watching people wherever they're at. it's surveillance. it's tactical.

so maybe that ends up being you, going for a cup of coffee in the morning or helping to move produce to a grocery store one afternoon, building a shed for the new crop or teaching or preparing defenses. whatever you're doing, it's the weight of an indiscreet stare that pulls your attention. the young man looks both a million miles away and weirdly intense, like a hawk focusing a teeny tiny field mouse from a mile away.

but if you but look at them, janus stiffens and then looks apologetic, looking away and then back again, unsure if the formality of an apology would make the offense worse or better. murder is a lot easier than this, u no u no]

closed to team oreo (rafa, arthur, era) { teeeeam oreoooo;

Hello, this is Janus

[you remember. the stilted young man from the internet, who boasted a truly incredible ability.]

I have come into possession of Oreo cookies or a reasonable facsimile thereof
Please let me know when you are available and where to meet you, as I would like to share this bounty
:D

[:D]

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[ Rafa feels wandering hands, and knows it's more than what they agreed. He allows it anyway, liking Janus' eagerness, and liking the feeling of their hands beyond that. He presses closer, hands stroking their way into their hair, and trailing down over the back of their neck.

His lips stay soft and pliant, happy to taste Janus and enjoy them. Then as they move, his head tilts, and he lets out a little sound at the lips on his ear. His eyes half-lid, and he trails his own fingers down their back. His mouth finds Janus' neck, and without error he finds their pulse point. His lips kiss at it, and his tongue presses lightly against it. He keeps his teeth away, just about. It's tempting. It's always tempting. ]

I am growing tired of the floor.

[ He says, after a moment, and one fluid movement sees him slide up into Janus' lap instead. It seems appropriate. He cups their cheek, and lifts his eyebrows. ]

Does this suit you?

[in general, people don't weigh a lot to janus. when you can hoist nearly half a ton around, because a harpy's stronger than a human and a hunter will be stronger than their harpy, too, any of your standard assortment of bones and muscles and hair and clothing aren't going to be much. rafa's smaller than most, fits tidy on their lap. they wonder at his secrets. how it came to be he can walk in the sun.

but he's still cool to touch, and it's more marked as janus' skin grows warmer. they wonder, but they don't think too hard about it really— distractions at hand, like the way rafa's little palm conforms to their cheek, how soft his eyes look. it'd be a sight that people would joke might make a good death, if the fangs came next in the dark.] I like it more than I like chocolate, [they tell him truthfully, smiling,] which I never got the infamous effects from, anyway.

[ In the past, many had experienced the exact scene Janus is imagining. This moment would have been their last, and Rafa would have considered it a kinder death than most humans ever got. These days, he is trying to be better than that. It has been a very long time since his teeth have been anyone's cause of death. He is trying to be better for Shane's sake, and for Alec's, and for Dick's, maybe, even though there is no Dick to be better for anymore, and even though Shane claims not to require it. He is trying.

He thinks he is more or less successful. But that doesn't remove the temptation, especially when he's this close to warm, flushing skin, and soft lips, and gentle, willing hands, and smiles that seem to trust him. This would be sweeter if he could bite. He could make Janus enjoy it, even, the way he made all of them enjoy it.

But then the warm hands would grow cold and the smile would disappear, and Rafa would care about that in a way he didn't used to. So he doesn't bite; he only nips, and then kisses, and lets his hands trail down over a warm cheek and warming neck, and beneath them there's a firmer chest than he was expecting, sloping to a taught stomach, and hips he can neatly fit his own against.

And then there's the trail of kisses back up to Janus' lips, the soft tug of blunt teeth against their lower lip, and the way Rafa's smile curves onto theirs before he speaks. ]

You taste better than chocolate. I never liked it much, anyway, but I like you.

[ He nudges his nose against theirs while leaning in to kiss them again. ]

[flattery. this kind had never moved janus the way that good grades and hunter accolades had, because they're a brittle and boring little soul inside the freckles and jawline, but there's an artistry to it, to the way that rafa does it, his voice a molasses-smooth purr housed in the slender barrel of his chest, his hair in his eyes. and it seems sincere, besides. precautions sit in the back of janus' mind like a sword waiting in its sheathe.

they're enjoying themself. running their fingers down the nape of rafa's back, then onto the fabric of his shirt. feeling the subtle hills of vertebrates through the material, how fine his muscles, nearly as smooth as the razortoothed kisses going up janus' neck. when rafa comes up for their mouth again, they kiss him back.] I always liked salty things, [they admit.] With a little bite to them. You're both to me. [another kiss lapped off his mouth, and then they nose his cheek, placing another on the crook of his jaw.] Salted caramel, that kind of thing.

I suppose-- [and then their nose is poking up companionably alongside his. eyelashes lifting so they can look at rafa half-mast, a warm smile to go with the nuzzle.] None of it sounds good to you now. I should compare you to silk and finer things. Do you like silk?

[ Janus is right. Food doesn't really appeal. He knows humans like those things, though. Salted caramel. They tend to pair that with chocolate. It tastes all right in ice cream, even if it lacks a certain kind of tang. And lacks bite, of course.

Amused, Rafa lets his hand spread over the planes of Janus' chest. This one is well put together; flat and lean, but enough definition to tell Rafa they're fit and able. ]

Only in my bedsheets. [ He admits, with a sweet little smile. His hand slides lower, over Janus' stomach. ] Sometimes on my men. But I like the sound of it, anyway. Soft like silk, but salty. With a little bite.

[ He shifts a little, rolling his hips gently against Janus'. and then moving his kisses onto their neck. Those kisses are sharper now, light dustings of Rafa's lips interspersed with occasional nipping teeth. Never enough to break the skin, but certainly enough to tease at it.

He's aware of blood pumping below the skin. His lips gravitate towards blood vessels, an act of instinct and not design. Those are the parts where the skin is warmest, and his cool lips press eager kisses to them. ]

[it's a little strange to know that rafa does not own this home all alone, that there is-- some boyfriend, husband, partner who planted the farm outside and helped to choose the pillows that decorate the couch, who might pop in and call rafa by some fondism and blink gently at the sight of the hunter underneath him.

but also

also that's terribly hard to think of right now. no mission to fear, nothing to press them except for the vampire's brown little hands. maybe it's the absence that janus feels, of your usual social niceties, death waiting a few doors away, and if not the mission today then the mission tomorrow. even if that's true, the edges of the hole seem softer, less stark as rafa's mouth moves down their neck. they hear their own breathing quicken. he's a good kisser, you know, our fine rafaello d'este, and it's not long before they're moving toward him with their hips, a funny climbing of their toes inside their shoes, their fingers drawing hungry lines along his narrow back. breathe in, breathe out.]

[ Somewhere along the road, quick hands have slid beneath folds of material and untwisted buttons. Clothes are being pushed away, leaving hot skin to press against cool, and laying bare Janus' chest for Rafa's lips to play over it. His hands graze over their nipples, and then skirt lower, playing over their stomach, tugging at their belt and opening it.

He knows what he's doing. His hips rock forward against Janus', creating a smooth friction that makes Rafa gasp, and then let out the soft beginnings of a moan.

His hand slides down. A zipper is tugged down, and then his hand moves inside, cupping Janus and stroking along the length of them. His lips move back up, kissing along their jaw and then back to their lips, which he kisses with more urgency this time. His hand does good work, fingers picking out the shape of Janus and gently squeezing around their tip. He wants them harder before he works his way down. ]

[vampire handjobs. they had had an inkling of course, that oreos would lead to this, but it would have been improper to assume. so it's

gratifying, the hand on their trousers, the press of rafa's mouth, the warm heat of the moment, catching, sliding, rhythmic. they find their feet pressing the floor, trying to gain enough traction to arch up against the vampire. not difficult, considering they're strong enough to flip a car. their dick surges to answer rafa's grip. they stop thinking about rafaello's husband. they stop thinking much at all.]

You're a beautiful little miracle of flesh, aren't you?

[it's a mumble, nearly disoriented from lust. janus' pants are out of the way in a moment, shucked down the freckled slope of their hips. they released rafa's mouth only reluctantly, the compliment trapped in a wet whisper between them. their cock aches, red and hard with want already. they slip their fingers down his spine, running them lightly down the fabric of rafa's shirt before they hook and tug.

even if rafa's going to be shifting down to his knees, it'd be a sight to see, the warm color of his shoulders framing his face.]

Am I?

[ Rafa's lips curve into a smile, which disappears when he goes to work on Janus' neck. He sucks one part up into a bruise, which his teeth can graze and tease at. They don't break the surface, but the hint is there that they might, and that it might feel as good as the rest of this.

At the same time, he moves his shoulders to shrug out of his shirt, allowing Janus to get rid of it. Rafa's skin, despite holding a vampire's pallor, still holds the olive hint of his youth. It makes him darker than most other vampires, and perhaps better hides the truth of what he is.

If that's the case, then it's a trick. With his body free of he shirt, he's able to slide gently out of Janus' lap and settle on his knees, between their legs. They're more than hard enough now. Rafa lifts his eyes to theirs and leans forward, eager to taste. ]

You do not mind?

[ He asks, and then presumes, leaning forward to flick his tongue against Janus' slit. Then he moves down, his tongue teasing at their glans, before he runs a trail of light kisses along their shaft. He'll stop if they want him to, of course, and he's going slow with this at any rate. Janus had hardened quickly. Rafa can't help wondering how easy it will be to take them to their edge. ]

[bred in sunny lands. ancestry built for unrelenting summers by the sea. janus knows skin like this, the small frames, the dark eyes and hair. it's nothing like phrenology and phenotyping has painfully little relevance, especially in worlds like theirs, where reincarnation happens often enough and a reasonable facsimile of a soul might be birthed out of a river or a tree or a stone.

but still, it feels like a story. something of heritage, of the raw materials that predated vampirism, of the culture of rafa's home and the privileges of his beauty, wrapped up in the tawny parchment of his skin. scars? they wonder, the instant before their mind takes to stuttering at the slick flicker of rafa's tongue. ever since that disastrous!! encounter with rosie in the citadel, janus has been rather wary of accidentally-- failing to come through for a lover, so if they knew what rafa was thinking, they would have opinions.

instead, they trace their thumb along rafa's jaw. their chest sucks deep.] I don't think my mind could take over even if I wanted, [they say, their voice half a pitch lower than ordinary, rusted over with want. he is so beautiful, rafaello is.]

[ Rafa pauses, looks up and smiles. His fingers spread along Janus' thighs, easing them apart but putting gentle pressure on them too, squeezing a little. ]

That is the best part. No thinking, just feeling. My favourite part.

[ And easy enough to achieve with practice. Rafa dips his head down, wrapping his lips around Janus and taking them into his mouth. His tongue slides along their shaft, tasting and teasing. He doesn't take them deep, not yet; Instead he works his way slowly along, dipping his head low and then coming up again to suck on the tip and let his tongue drag over their glans.

After a few moments of this, he slides his hand up to sneak underneath his chin, and cup Janus' sack. Aware that his hands will be cooling, he moves them gently, stroking and squeezing just a little. ]

[no thinking, just feeling. people who don't know janus all that well would tend to think they'd have trouble with this particular task because they prefer to think. in reality, they have trouble mostly because they like to both think and feel, in perfect balance. this whole yin and yang, dark and light balance. if you think too much, you'll not be prepared for the feelings when they come; if you feel too much, you won't have discipline. trained in the art of war, they always knew better.

but this isn't war now.

and rafa invites them to let go, for a moment, here in this quiescent farmstead, with the sound of animals shifting in the distant rooms and the faint scent of alien trees seeping in through the corners of the windows. here-- they let rafa pull them off-balance, feeling the sweat start to grow slippery on their thighs, their fingers touching through rafa's hair. their cock stiffens in his mouth, and they muffle a cry in the press of their own lips. thoughts start and die, fast as welding sparks.]

[ Rafa moves back up Janus' body. Now that their cock is hard, he doesn't put so much attention into it. He lifts his mouth away, after one last flick of his tongue to Janus' slit, and then his hand replaces it, gently stroking along their shaft to keep them ready.

For his own part, he straightens, and slips his other hand into their fingers. ]

Would you like to come to bed with me?

[ He says, softly, and with a little smile. Janus is incredibly sweet, and has been pliant thus far. They deserve something a little nicer than Rafa's living room, regardless of how much chocolate there's been or what the fire is doing. They deserve a little romance. A lot of romance, actually. But a bed would be a start. ]

It will be more comfortable than this, and I should like to hold you properly.

[and i you, janus wants to say, but they're sure right now that their voice would crack and fall apart like a cookie that some idiot baker left the eggs out of, or else turn into some kind of soupy oversweet sludge. much about janus is about precision and finesse. they hate to look bad.

and for some reason, they have always assumed that this, their mouth slightly swollen, pupils blown out junkie huge, their hair dropping disheveled spikes down their forehead— they have always assumed that this is a bad look.

you see, it seems different with rafa. rafa can pull it off, based on what they can see, the caramel color of his cheeks given way to the fruit creme pink of his mouth, the clean, sharp prominence of his brow softened by his hungry eyes. janus is no more afraid of vampires than they are of elves or chimera, and you'd have to have met elves and chimera to know they're as afraid as they should be. they don't think they've met a vampire, elf or chimera that was pretty like rafaello, though.

they nod. a little indelicately, they rise, tugging rafa up with them. they'd-- carry him, but that seems a bit daft when you're the one who doesn't know where you're going. instead, a sword-callused hand settles gently at the small of the vampire's back. it's a funnily old-fashioned gesture, considering their dick is flapping around out the open gap of their trousers.]

[ Rafa likes it better this way. Janus couldn't know, would have no way to know, that he generally doesn't like to be carried. There are some very few exceptions to that rule, but on the whole, Rafa likes it like this; the two of them hand in hand, or arms around each other, close, but each one still in control of what they're doing. This is good.

This is sweet.

The staircase is a straight line up, and the upstairs floor has a different feel than downstairs. Here there are arched ceilings pointing up. It would be easy to bang your head if you were taller than Rafa, which most men are, but the lights hang from the tallest point. It makes the place seem somehow grand and rustic at the same time. Rafa likes it up here.

He takes Janus to one of the bedrooms, of which there are several. They go into the one which, in theory, is Rafa's alone, though he rarely uses it at all. Still, the style of it belongs more to him than anything downstairs had. It's bare and minimal, the walls painted in a light blue-grey, and the floors left wooden and brushed clean. The bed is neatly made, and there are no clothes sitting out, though there's a leather book sitting on the small writing desk.

He takes Janus to the bed and peels back the covers, sitting on the sheets he'd exposed. Then he holds out his arms, drawing Janus with him. ]

Come. You look ready for this.

[ Not only because of how hard they are, though partly because of that. Mostly, because of how silent they'd been, how breathless and eager downstairs. He wraps his hand back around their dick and strokes it, gently, feeling it's been too long since he did. ]

[[is it strange to fuck a man in his husband's house? it seems so. or maybe that's just janus' old-fashioned sensibilities, and a professional killer's sense of paranoia besides. habits. but janus isn't the impulsive turd lord that some of our characters might be, and habits don't control them entirely. you can make a mission out of anything, and this one promises to be more pleasant than most.]

If you're referring to my cock, [they say, a little dry, which is, in fact, a sharp contrast to how their nethers look at the moment, flush and damp,] then yes.

they fall with rafaello, rather than on top of them. chest to chest, breath crashing into the vampire's unliving cheek. their hips tilted, so that rafa can get long fingers around their dick and work up a little friction.] But I-- [oh that's good. there's a catch of their breath, their fingers tight on the sheets for a moment.] --um. I'd like to-- [a boyish smile flits over their face, a little lustful, no regret as their dick slips over the crook of rafa's thumb,] return the favor, as they say.

Edited (buttons why) 2018-05-04 19:22 (UTC)

[ Janus is talkative when they're aroused. Rafa gives them a fangy grin, evidence of his own interest in this. ]

As you like. Shall I help?

[ His tone is teasing. He sits up on his knees. His hands make short work of his belt, and he discards it on the floor. His pants are opened then, and he draws them down over his hips, kicks them onto the floor with the belt. It leaves him more naked than Janus, finally; his own dick is hard and purpling at the head, eager for contact. He continues ignoring it, and returns his attention to Janus.

He slides his hand along their shaft, and a moment later moves forward, pushing them back and sitting on top. Leaning forward, he lets his groin rub against Janus', and he wraps his hand around both of them. His strokes now are less precise, but they make his eyes flutter closed and he groans. ]

Give me your hand. [ He says, thickly, to Janus. He holds his free hand out. ]

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o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

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nsfwish if it ain't been said already

definitely nsfw

sglhfs that icon

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