o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends

[bangitybang]

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]

Comments

[bangitybang]

[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.]

[mordacita]

[ 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. ]

[bangitybang]

[[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.

[mordacita]

[ 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. ]