[ Oh, the big bad Zwei's embarrassed at a little hand holding? How cute. ]
I didn't know if you were just playing with your food before beating and cuffing it. You understand.
Buuut, you've kept your word so I have no problem keeping mine.
[ His other hand comes up just as cautiously, reaching for the mask as he leans in ever-so-slowly to bring it down and his lips as close to Gregor's ear as the other man will allow. ]
Still am, y'know. But you're doin' the same, with less cuffs, so I don't feel like we're less equal for it, personally.
[Puff puff puff. His eyes dart around in the darkness, looking for other silhouettes (and giving himself a second's grace, still flustered as he is), before he hooks his head against Akira's to murmur against his ear in turn.]
Gregor. Pleasure's all mine, Akira.
Now I've got my pound of flesh, you wanna resume things? If I'm gonna lose my job, I might as well make my last night on the beat fun.
[ Somehow even cuter, despite the confirmation that Gregor does indeed see this as playing with his food. Maybe because of it? He's never met a lawman quite like this, and it's endlessly fascinating him, stoking the excitement swirling in his head and gut for learning more and more in the future-- ]
[ He thought that was only a one time show of mercy, of goodwill, for no hard feelings in the future and the consequences that came with it so long as it was fun. He was always going to do his damndest to avoid capture, sure, but the idea that Gregor is ready and willing to lose something like this just for him... ]
...Say we were to get you back to your post, no witnesses and nothing to connect you to...this. [ A tilt of his head to indicate all the stabbed and strewn about office supplies, still keeping the two of them hooked together. ] And I leave without touching anything.
I don't, it's game over altogether. More fun to let you go and not completely eliminate all chance of gettin' to fuck around on the job like this.
[He sighs softly, mulling over that proposal as if they're not holding hands and as if he's not risking discovery with each second that passes like this.] I'd be bored all night, I guess. And I'll catch a bit of heat for property destruction; it's clear it was done by a sword, and who else would do that but Zwei?
But we ever meet again, it's gonna be the same story. You'd hafta give up the game, or at least vet targets more thoroughly. And I'd be pretty pissed, getting blueballed like this. Just doesn't feel like it's how it should end, does it?
[ Practically nuzzling against Gregor's face turns to letting his head flop into the crook of the man's neck with a frustrated sigh. ]
I don't want it to be the last time we meet like this. I want to get better, to stretch you out even thinner, just like you'd said...can't very well do that if you lose your job or if I keep the training gloves on just because I like you so much, huh?
[Gregor lets it happen, relishes the contact for a second or two, before peeling away with as much dignity as he can possibly muster and finally relinquishing Akira's fingers.]
Is there something I could nab off you now, that wouldn't go leadin' back to you but might look like it does? Or--
[Time to use his fingers to pull out a cigarette, light it up, and hastily offer it. This is worth using lighter fluid on, for sure.] Smoke this. I'll burn the shit outta the filter, and act like it's gonna lead somewhere all the same. Shit, I'll smoke it right after, make sure it's all my spit in there on top of yours.
[is
is that even how it works??? Testing for DNA and shit? He's not really sure, actually.]
[ Unfortunately this Akira isn't a doctor, so he's got about as much of an idea how it works as Gregor does. Which means as far as he's concerned it's a great idea. Eyes widening as it all clicks together and everything.
He quickly takes the offered cig and gets to work, though a thought hits him and there's a moment's pause for an abrupt snrk. ]
One of these days we'll have to properly kiss, you know.
[ c u t e. If he can embarrass Gregor so easily it really would be a shame for this to be their last run in--this can't be the cutest face the man can make, he has to see all the others. ]
I don't like thinking of it like that, but...you have a point.
[ His free hand will be slipping to the small of Gregor's back, urging him forward. Despite the playful action, a somber undertone still sticks to his voice. ]
[Now that they're so close together, it's not so weird to go reaching over to pluck the cigarette away, holding it pointedly to the side so that Gregor can sweep in those last few centimetres for a surprisingly impassioned kiss. Deepened right off the bat, free hand gripping Akira's hip and holding him there.
[ Oh! What a pleasant surprise, here he thought that embarrassment would carry over and keep Gregor shy. Guess he won't have to ease into it, then, so don't mind if he doesn't.
Akira meets the kiss with just as much passion, now free hand taking the chance to cup Gregor's cheek possessively just as the one at his back is, grasping at fabric. He doesn't try to pry open lips with tongue, but rather with teeth, nipping and tugging in a demand to be let in. ]
[When in doubt, take action! It's the only way to stay alive, really. Or get any sort of action, in this case. And the job's lonely, certainly; it's unwise to make any connections that could be wielded against him, but this...
At least Gregor can trust Akira to take care of himself. There's a degree of security to this weakness, to yielding against those teeth and letting his tongue slip past his lips in turn, grip tightening enough to risk bruising on Akira's hip. If nothing else, if everything goes to shit, he can at least take comfort in leaving a mark.
.......Maybe he's also going to nudge them both back, towards a skewered yet still standing desk, but like. That's just a bonus.]
[ Tongue and teeth are exploring the other's the second they're allowed to, urging Gregor's to do the same with steadily heightening urgency. He'd been playing it pretty cool only moments ago, at least he'd like to think so, and now it's almost as if he's being kicked up into a frenzy with the need to be as close to Gregor as possible, to hold onto him as tightly as possible--
Which is helped a little by that nudge backwards. One bump of the edge of that desk against the back of his thighs and he's up and taking a seat, long legs now free to wrap around Greg to pull him just that much closer and keep him there. Still. Still not close enough.
The hand at Gregor's back is practically clawing its way under that Zwei-issued jacket, tugging at his shirt to slip under and grasp at skin instead. ]
[Thank fuck he's only in his uniform, and not wearing even more layers; when Akira manages to untuck his shirt and grope at his spine, Gregor lets out a noise that's antonymous with discretion. Too loud, too obvious the sentiment behind it, but they're decently spread out, so it's. It's okay. It's fine.
Worth it, anyway. Maybe. In the moment, certainly. Maybe Gregor's a little too eager in his kissing, using a little too much tongue and pressing in a little too heavily to appear smooth and cool whatsoever, but also: still worth it, if Akira won't laugh in his face afterwards. He even discards the cigarette so that he can grope right on back; yanks their hips flush, even though cumming in his work uniform is not something he should risk in the slightest, then mirrors the gesture of back-to-palm contact with his flesh hand, warm even in its glove. The prosthetic kneads impatiently, fervently at Akira's thigh, as if it'd love nothing more than to go higher.]
[ If Akira's got any problem with too eager, he sure as shit isn't showing it. It may just be egging him on even further, reflexively grinding up against Gregor's hips as they're pressed together, a hot, pleased groan shamelessly pouring into Gregor's mouth.
That's one threshold run right over--he does in fact need more. With all the reluctance of someone else taking his hands away from Gregor's body instead of Akira himself he brings them back up to rip his own gloves off, letting them carelessly fall onto the desk beside them as they go right back to where they were, skin flush against skin and anchoring themselves with nails digging in hungrily.
Though they seem satisfied with feeling just one spot on the man for only a few moments. The hand at Gregor's back travels up, while the one at his face travels down, nails not letting up for any part of the journey. ]
[No, no, this is. This is too dangerous. If they get caught, and every second that passes only increases those odds, then Akira's done for and Gregor's fired anyway, which is something that actually matters.
So he pulls out of the kiss. Equally reluctantly, as if someone's pulling strings rather than him trying to be the slightest bit responsible.]
You gotta go. We gotta stop. Investing in the future-- [ah one more, one more kiss, please don't be mad at him beautiful eye man] --shit, don't you go gettin' caught, fella. You gotta go.
[ Wh? Huh?? Hello??? Why are we not kissing anymore, what's going on?
"Caught" is first word that registers, and it sparks enough of a fear response to shake a good chunk of his brain back into the world at large to process what all else is happening. No, he's not caught now, but he could be the longer they stay here sucking face and grinding. The logical part of his brain can comprehend that, but there's just enough of a horny haze still hanging around that doesn't want to let go yet, the nails now at Greg's shoulder blades digging in even deeper. ]
You tease me like that and kick me out before I even get a little taste? [ Taste of what? ] You're cruel, Mister Zwei... [ Hey, taste of what??? ]
[ Stealing one more not-so-quick kiss as if to drive that point home. And this time as he pulls away he'll slip from the table in the same motion, grabbing at his gloves with one hand while the one still planted in Greg's back rakes across skin as it's pulled along.
Small, small droplets of red are visible as he brings those fingertips up to leisurely draw them along his tongue, the disappointment from before replaced with contentment. ]
But! If we're going to keep at this, I can't just give away the next answer, can I?
[ Fingers nice and clean, he'll turn his back to Gregor as he replaces the gloves onto his hands, starting down the rest of the hallway as if this were a completely normal conversation in a completely normal situation. ]
If you want to find me, look for a crow that loves to write~
[pardon him while he shudders and moans, because bro. Bro. Bro. oooough. He's not going to wash that part of his back for days now. He almost misses Akira licking his fingers clean, purely for relishing the sting. Almost. Oooh, tuck that one in the spank bank for later, for sure.
wait, words.]
--what? What's that even mean?! [???????????? guy who is bewildered and so, so turned on right now. Standing there helplessly.] A crow that loves to write? The Nest isn't even giving it away! They're huge--
[He's making too much noise, though. Cue the grimace, before he waves Akira away in a pseudo-huff.] Ah, fine. I'll take what I'm given, and I'll like it. Wait for me, yeah?
Laughter's the only answer Gregor gets, his frustration clearly the intended punchline. But that is indeed all before Akira's gone into the night, the mushroom chunk safe and sound where it should be, and no other eyes having witnessed his entrance or his exit. Save for the the intended evidence, (and the zealous swordsman's valiant attempts at uprooting him) he may as well have never been in there at all.
Whether it's by the whims of fate or Akira vetting his targets more thoroughly as suggested, they don't see each other for at least a few weeks after that.
Robberies take place, sure, but there's no clear calling card of the elusive Dodomeki for news sources to cling to. More jobs will come and go for Zwei, provided Gregor's gambit worked and he gets to keep skating on that thin ice, and he'll no doubt be dragged a good number of places with sights worth remembering and sights worth forgetting that you've even forgotten them.
Where a certain sight lands depends entirely on Gregor.
It's just a place he happens to pass by on a job, either in a rush or a leisurely stroll, but a hand painted sign will catch his eye for a moment: The Quill & Crow. A crow is perched on the nib of a finely plumed quill writing out the ampersand, a more ambitious idea than the artist had skill for, but it gets the idea across well enough. Judging from the windows it seems to be an old bookstore, shelves lining the walls and table displays left less organized than they no doubt started the day from the people leafing through them.
It seems normal, quiet, forgettable. But what does Gregor think...? ]
But Gregor's let slip-skating, considering he still had the cigarette on hand (and certainly muddied with his own genetic data, oopsies tehepero); he's bumped into a different Section for his mishaps, but not booted from the Association altogether, which is about all he could ask for. Sadly, he's not even on the higher-stakes protection jobs, pointedly kept away from anything that might attract the Dodomeki or his like, and it's a good stretch of bodyguard work or even just...
Peacekeeping work. Rent-a-cop work becomes his bread and butter, makes his head itch with how boring it is compared to what he had. But that's the price he agreed to pay, and it lets him have a certain leeway with his beat. Which leads him to today's, ah...Venture. Another beat, another drag through a new path he's in the middle of memorising. Gotta know what's normal to know when something's awry, after all.
The sign's not exactly out of the ordinary, when he looks at it. Memorises that design, has a little chortle at the skill and how heartening it is, to see someone do their best. Then he stops dead. There's a bell ringing in the back of his mind, and he almost can't recall why until he takes another look at the sign.
Crow. Crow. Crow. Quill? Crow. Huh...Crow who likes to write?
He checks his pocketwatch in a hurry, before bursting through the door looking a complete mess. There's no predatory dignity to him right now, just the excited flush of a man who saw his childhood sweetheart for the first time in decades.]
[ Despite the urgency Greg enters with, the energy isn't met in kind. There's just one or two people already in there doing their browsing, and what looks like a bored teenager with a messy bob busy reading his own material instead of manning the front desk he's behind.
"Welcome to the Quill & Crow, where words of a feather flock together. How can I--"
He doesn't even look up at first when he starts the over-rehearsed pitch, but when he does, and most importantly spots the uniform Gregor's in, he stops dead in his tracks. He doesn't necessarily seem any more enthused, (maybe his face is just like that?) but his eyebrows do knit in some kind of concern.
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I didn't know if you were just playing with your food before beating and cuffing it. You understand.
Buuut, you've kept your word so I have no problem keeping mine.
[ His other hand comes up just as cautiously, reaching for the mask as he leans in ever-so-slowly to bring it down and his lips as close to Gregor's ear as the other man will allow. ]
Akira. It's Akira.
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[Puff puff puff. His eyes dart around in the darkness, looking for other silhouettes (and giving himself a second's grace, still flustered as he is), before he hooks his head against Akira's to murmur against his ear in turn.]
Gregor. Pleasure's all mine, Akira.
Now I've got my pound of flesh, you wanna resume things? If I'm gonna lose my job, I might as well make my last night on the beat fun.
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Wait a second, lose your job?
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[At this level, they can't afford consistent failure. One was enough. Two would be Too Much.]
Sure, I could go be a Fixer anywhere else, but I won't be at these sorts of places anymore. One last fling, going out with a bang, all that.
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[ He thought that was only a one time show of mercy, of goodwill, for no hard feelings in the future and the consequences that came with it so long as it was fun. He was always going to do his damndest to avoid capture, sure, but the idea that Gregor is ready and willing to lose something like this just for him... ]
...Say we were to get you back to your post, no witnesses and nothing to connect you to...this. [ A tilt of his head to indicate all the stabbed and strewn about office supplies, still keeping the two of them hooked together. ] And I leave without touching anything.
What would happen then?
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[He sighs softly, mulling over that proposal as if they're not holding hands and as if he's not risking discovery with each second that passes like this.] I'd be bored all night, I guess. And I'll catch a bit of heat for property destruction; it's clear it was done by a sword, and who else would do that but Zwei?
But we ever meet again, it's gonna be the same story. You'd hafta give up the game, or at least vet targets more thoroughly. And I'd be pretty pissed, getting blueballed like this. Just doesn't feel like it's how it should end, does it?
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[ Practically nuzzling against Gregor's face turns to letting his head flop into the crook of the man's neck with a frustrated sigh. ]
I don't want it to be the last time we meet like this. I want to get better, to stretch you out even thinner, just like you'd said...can't very well do that if you lose your job or if I keep the training gloves on just because I like you so much, huh?
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Is there something I could nab off you now, that wouldn't go leadin' back to you but might look like it does? Or--
[Time to use his fingers to pull out a cigarette, light it up, and hastily offer it. This is worth using lighter fluid on, for sure.] Smoke this. I'll burn the shit outta the filter, and act like it's gonna lead somewhere all the same. Shit, I'll smoke it right after, make sure it's all my spit in there on top of yours.
[is
is that even how it works??? Testing for DNA and shit? He's not really sure, actually.]
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He quickly takes the offered cig and gets to work, though a thought hits him and there's a moment's pause for an abrupt snrk. ]
One of these days we'll have to properly kiss, you know.
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bleh
thank fuck he wasn't the one smoking, huh...]
I-- Gotcha. We can...do that now? Just in case this is the last time and all?
[coughcoughcough]
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I don't like thinking of it like that, but...you have a point.
[ His free hand will be slipping to the small of Gregor's back, urging him forward. Despite the playful action, a somber undertone still sticks to his voice. ]
So we should enjoy it as best we can.
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[Now that they're so close together, it's not so weird to go reaching over to pluck the cigarette away, holding it pointedly to the side so that Gregor can sweep in those last few centimetres for a surprisingly impassioned kiss. Deepened right off the bat, free hand gripping Akira's hip and holding him there.
It's fine. No one's noticed him missing, yet.]
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Akira meets the kiss with just as much passion, now free hand taking the chance to cup Gregor's cheek possessively just as the one at his back is, grasping at fabric. He doesn't try to pry open lips with tongue, but rather with teeth, nipping and tugging in a demand to be let in. ]
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At least Gregor can trust Akira to take care of himself. There's a degree of security to this weakness, to yielding against those teeth and letting his tongue slip past his lips in turn, grip tightening enough to risk bruising on Akira's hip. If nothing else, if everything goes to shit, he can at least take comfort in leaving a mark.
.......Maybe he's also going to nudge them both back, towards a skewered yet still standing desk, but like. That's just a bonus.]
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Which is helped a little by that nudge backwards. One bump of the edge of that desk against the back of his thighs and he's up and taking a seat, long legs now free to wrap around Greg to pull him just that much closer and keep him there. Still. Still not close enough.
The hand at Gregor's back is practically clawing its way under that Zwei-issued jacket, tugging at his shirt to slip under and grasp at skin instead. ]
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Worth it, anyway. Maybe. In the moment, certainly. Maybe Gregor's a little too eager in his kissing, using a little too much tongue and pressing in a little too heavily to appear smooth and cool whatsoever, but also: still worth it, if Akira won't laugh in his face afterwards. He even discards the cigarette so that he can grope right on back; yanks their hips flush, even though cumming in his work uniform is not something he should risk in the slightest, then mirrors the gesture of back-to-palm contact with his flesh hand, warm even in its glove. The prosthetic kneads impatiently, fervently at Akira's thigh, as if it'd love nothing more than to go higher.]
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That's one threshold run right over--he does in fact need more. With all the reluctance of someone else taking his hands away from Gregor's body instead of Akira himself he brings them back up to rip his own gloves off, letting them carelessly fall onto the desk beside them as they go right back to where they were, skin flush against skin and anchoring themselves with nails digging in hungrily.
Though they seem satisfied with feeling just one spot on the man for only a few moments. The hand at Gregor's back travels up, while the one at his face travels down, nails not letting up for any part of the journey. ]
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[No, no, this is. This is too dangerous. If they get caught, and every second that passes only increases those odds, then Akira's done for and Gregor's fired anyway, which is something that actually matters.
So he pulls out of the kiss. Equally reluctantly, as if someone's pulling strings rather than him trying to be the slightest bit responsible.]
You gotta go. We gotta stop. Investing in the future-- [ah one more, one more kiss, please don't be mad at him beautiful eye man] --shit, don't you go gettin' caught, fella. You gotta go.
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"Caught" is first word that registers, and it sparks enough of a fear response to shake a good chunk of his brain back into the world at large to process what all else is happening. No, he's not caught now, but he could be the longer they stay here sucking face and grinding. The logical part of his brain can comprehend that, but there's just enough of a horny haze still hanging around that doesn't want to let go yet, the nails now at Greg's shoulder blades digging in even deeper. ]
You tease me like that and kick me out before I even get a little taste? [ Taste of what? ] You're cruel, Mister Zwei... [ Hey, taste of what??? ]
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[Next time????????? There really shouldn't be! There can't be! And yet, of course there has to be--]
What Nest d'you live in? Just the Nest. Before you go.
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[ Stealing one more not-so-quick kiss as if to drive that point home. And this time as he pulls away he'll slip from the table in the same motion, grabbing at his gloves with one hand while the one still planted in Greg's back rakes across skin as it's pulled along.
Small, small droplets of red are visible as he brings those fingertips up to leisurely draw them along his tongue, the disappointment from before replaced with contentment. ]
But! If we're going to keep at this, I can't just give away the next answer, can I?
[ Fingers nice and clean, he'll turn his back to Gregor as he replaces the gloves onto his hands, starting down the rest of the hallway as if this were a completely normal conversation in a completely normal situation. ]
If you want to find me, look for a crow that loves to write~
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wait, words.]
--what? What's that even mean?! [???????????? guy who is bewildered and so, so turned on right now. Standing there helplessly.] A crow that loves to write? The Nest isn't even giving it away! They're huge--
[He's making too much noise, though. Cue the grimace, before he waves Akira away in a pseudo-huff.] Ah, fine. I'll take what I'm given, and I'll like it. Wait for me, yeah?
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Please wash an open wound, Gregor.Laughter's the only answer Gregor gets, his frustration clearly the intended punchline. But that is indeed all before Akira's gone into the night, the mushroom chunk safe and sound where it should be, and no other eyes having witnessed his entrance or his exit. Save for the the intended evidence, (and the zealous swordsman's valiant attempts at uprooting him) he may as well have never been in there at all.
Whether it's by the whims of fate or Akira vetting his targets more thoroughly as suggested, they don't see each other for at least a few weeks after that.
Robberies take place, sure, but there's no clear calling card of the elusive Dodomeki for news sources to cling to. More jobs will come and go for Zwei, provided Gregor's gambit worked and he gets to keep skating on that thin ice, and he'll no doubt be dragged a good number of places with sights worth remembering and sights worth forgetting that you've even forgotten them.
Where a certain sight lands depends entirely on Gregor.
It's just a place he happens to pass by on a job, either in a rush or a leisurely stroll, but a hand painted sign will catch his eye for a moment: The Quill & Crow. A crow is perched on the nib of a finely plumed quill writing out the ampersand, a more ambitious idea than the artist had skill for, but it gets the idea across well enough. Judging from the windows it seems to be an old bookstore, shelves lining the walls and table displays left less organized than they no doubt started the day from the people leafing through them.
It seems normal, quiet, forgettable. But what does Gregor think...? ]
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no it's all he has to remember Akira by wtfBut Gregor's let slip-skating, considering he still had the cigarette on hand (and certainly muddied with his own genetic data, oopsies tehepero); he's bumped into a different Section for his mishaps, but not booted from the Association altogether, which is about all he could ask for. Sadly, he's not even on the higher-stakes protection jobs, pointedly kept away from anything that might attract the Dodomeki or his like, and it's a good stretch of bodyguard work or even just...
Peacekeeping work. Rent-a-cop work becomes his bread and butter, makes his head itch with how boring it is compared to what he had. But that's the price he agreed to pay, and it lets him have a certain leeway with his beat. Which leads him to today's, ah...Venture. Another beat, another drag through a new path he's in the middle of memorising. Gotta know what's normal to know when something's awry, after all.
The sign's not exactly out of the ordinary, when he looks at it. Memorises that design, has a little chortle at the skill and how heartening it is, to see someone do their best. Then he stops dead. There's a bell ringing in the back of his mind, and he almost can't recall why until he takes another look at the sign.
Crow. Crow. Crow. Quill? Crow. Huh...Crow who likes to write?
He checks his pocketwatch in a hurry, before bursting through the door looking a complete mess. There's no predatory dignity to him right now, just the excited flush of a man who saw his childhood sweetheart for the first time in decades.]
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"Welcome to the Quill & Crow, where words of a feather flock together. How can I--"
He doesn't even look up at first when he starts the over-rehearsed pitch, but when he does, and most importantly spots the uniform Gregor's in, he stops dead in his tracks. He doesn't necessarily seem any more enthused, (maybe his face is just like that?) but his eyebrows do knit in some kind of concern.
"Oh. Uh...help you." ]
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