jikan_rpg | [September Catch-All]

Now, what's going on here?

[Red Wine murmurs the words to himself as he passes the sweet shop on the opposite side of the road, his steps slowing as he observes the crowds and the size of the line outside. His eyebrows lift for a moment, one part curious and one part amused at the excitement, and he moves closer to take a look at the signage outside.

Only couples allowed? He has to shake his head at that.]

Imagine limiting your clientele like that. [Store's prerogative, he supposes...

He glances to the side, catching sight of someone who looks like they're interested too.]

What do you think - do you want to go in?

[The name of the drink he ends up choosing isn't his favourite, but out of the three it's the one he likes the look of the best. No wonder about that, with his often-denied preoccupation with blood.

Overall, the place seems a little... over the top. He can see they're going for a theme, but it is Red Wine's oh so humble opinion that such things can be subtle rather than clubs to beat the patrons over the head with. Still, it's fine, and it suits his own aesthetic down to a tee.

He finds a table, sits down with his drink and takes a sip, enjoying the texture of the sugar on the rim against his lips. Well, at least they have decent drinks here... Good to know that Nippon has something going for it.

While he sits there he senses eyes on him, looks up, and flashes a charming half-smile.]

Can I help you?

( Steak needed a bit more time to get his order — mostly because the names are all absurd and he ended up bickering with the bartender over whether it really needed to be called a Kinklist (apparently yes, and Steak will see why) — but he does, eventually join Red Wine at the table.

and immediately gets confronted with a beautiful bastard being... well. himself. annoying. )

Move over.

( hmph. those red eyes certainly didn't linger on that smile a little too long, WYM. )

Tch, fine.

[Even though he was so damn rude about it. Red Wine doesn't exactly expect anything else. He moves, giving Steak room to sit down, then takes another sip of the drink in his hand.

He thought the names were funny.]

I didn't think I'd see you here.

( he damn well shouldn't. this is the only way Steak's ever known how to be, particularly with Red Wine. )

I like a drink as well.

( sure, the area of town isn't his usual style, and the bar itself is shady, but beggars. choosing. and he can always try and pick up some more information about the less savoury parts of Nippon while he's here.

but first, a toast. )

Cheers.

( and, once the glasses have been clinked, he takes a sip of his drink, watching as the liquid turns from black to white, completely unaware that the word praise has curled itself in black ink on his cheek. )

Hmm.

[Cheers, then.

He taps his glass delicately against Steak's and takes another sip of his drink, in full and complete awareness of the particular effects of what he chose to order. Red Wine doesn't for a moment think that whatever spell is on this drink will affect Steak...

They don't even like each other, do they?

He watches the word appear on the other's cheek with an almost morbid curiosity, one corner of his mouth curling up in a wry smirk.]

You didn't ask about the drink before you bought it, did you.

( tch, of course they don't. they're just two men bound by circumstance and immortality. there's nothing more to it but an appreciation of how well Red Wine fights. that's the way it's always been, the simple truth of the matter.

sure, even Steak isn't blind to the fact that Red Wine is attractive, but that's hardly a surprise. everyone knows Food Souls were blessed with inhumanly good looks on top of their battle skills. he doesn't need to like Red Wine to acknowledge that. nor to acknowledge his sense of justice or the fire inside him, or how fun an opponent he is in battle—

these are just facts. )

I told them to give me something that tastes good.

( he grumbles the line. it certainly does taste good, and the colour changing effect is interesting, but Steak knows that amused tone (and that smirk. it suits Red Wine, though he loathes to admit it) means that something's up. it always does. )

Why?

( something is definitely up, okay? )

Of course you did.

[Simple right down to his bones. Red Wine lets his amusement hang for another few moments before he pushes a hand into one of his pockets to retrieve a small hand-mirror.]

You might want to take a look.

[He opens the mirror, holding it up and leaning in to prod the writing on Steak's cheek with the tip of one finger.

Interesting.]

Hey—! ( don't prod him! he swats a hand at Red Wine, pushing his hand away before looking at the simple, single word on his cheek. )

... What's that supposed to mean?!

( as ever, Steak just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind and then lets the puzzle pieces fall into place in his brain.

kinklist... praise...??? is that a kink people have? is Red Wine's smug smirk actually attractive, or is it just the particular way the light hits the plush of his lips?

what would it be like if he kissed them?

wait.

no.

rewind that. he's not thinking that. clearly Red Wine just has a little bit of gloss or drink residue on them. )

Tch. You haven't even wiped your lips properly.

( yes, yes Steak does think the right thing to do in this situation is reach out to wipe his thumb along Red Wine's bottom lip. )

There's nothing on them to wipe. It's the drink.

[He knows what it is, what it does, and what it's currently doing and the only surprise is that he doesn't feel as if he minds it. The idea of Steak kissing him isn't entirely objectionable.

... How long has he felt like that?

Red Wine touches Steak's jaw, turning his head a little so he can read that word again. Praise, is it? Somehow he's not surprised. He's still leaning in, his eyes slightly darkened by shadows.]

Maybe you should do something about it.

( the desire to punch Red Wine is there, because it always is. put the two of them in the vicinity of one another and a fight will break out. the only question is whether that fight has them facing one another or some other force entirely.

Red Wine's fingers brush his jaw and the pink of his cheeks tries to hide in the low light of the bar, red eyes narrowing as they ever do when Red Wine's around.

oh he could do something about it, alright. he could punch that smug look off Red Wine's face quite easily-

or, says that increasingly loud voice in his head, you could just ki--

screw it. Steak isn't sure whether it's the drink, the fact that Red Wine is looking at him like he expects to fluster Steak, or just something he's always tried to ignore, but it's surprisingly easy to lean forward, loop a hand around Red Wine's neck, and kiss him. )

[He isn't sure how he expected to feel the first time Steak kissed him. Of course he's thought about it - one doesn't hang around the same person for over two hundred years without having certain idle thoughts about them once in a while - but he doesn't expect it to simply feel completely and utterly right.

Red Wine doesn't struggle against that hand around the back of his neck, leaning in almost before it touches him at all, and he tips his head before their lips meet. Though he still holds his drink in one hand the other lifts up to brush his fingertips along Steak's jaw, then working them up into his hair where he curls them into a loose grip amongst the crimson strands.

He presses into that kiss and then closer, fumbling to set his drink aside as he moves without thinking and crawls over into Steak's lap.]

( Steak would argue that point. he's never thought about this before. not properly, not in any way that he could pinpoint and say ah, that was fleeting, idle desire. it came in abstracts and quickly found itself buried under irritation and anger.

because of course it was just another way he hated Red Wine, how could it not be?

and yet, as Red Wine slides in closer and Steak tries to figure out what to do with his hands (the one not at Red Wine's neck hovers for a moment too long before settling at his waist too softly for what they always have been), he can't think of a time where he hasn't wanted to feel this. centuries of arguing melt away for a moment in favour of the warm sparks that come with Red Wine's weight settling against his thighs and the fingers threading through his hair.

his head tips upwards with the change in position, back arching inwards until chests lie flush against one another, and that hand on Red Wine's waist slides around to the small of his back instead. )

[It feels so natural to do this that he doesn't spare more than half a moment to think about what he's doing. The half moment is, of course, spent in internal screaming over what the hell he's doing crawling into Steak's lap and kissing him-- but then he's in Steak's lap and kissing him and the why really doesn't seem to matter.

His own movements - where he chooses to put his hands, the smooth slide of his hips down Steak's thighs - are sure and confident, and he rests both hands on Steak's shoulders for a moment before pushing one up into his hair, curling slim fingers around the root of one of his horns.]

Mmmvery good. [He murmurs against Steak's lips.] Keep going...

Ah...

( hard to tell whether that gasp was for the words or the movements of Red Wine's fingers, but the truth is that it's both. he's still feeling through the whole thing blindly, but Red Wine's encouragement emboldens him to not only keep going, but to go harder, to grab, to curl fingers into Red Wine's waistband and nip his lower lip with his teeth.

it's something that seems hotter in theory than practice, given that his teeth knock against Red Wine's and the way his hands position themselves mean that his knuckles are pressed against the base of Red Wine's spine in a way that's probably uncomfortable, but it's the thought that counts? or something? )

[Red Wine tolerates Steak's fumbling for all of three seconds before he pulls away from him with a long-suffering sigh.]

You're supposed to be kissing me, not knocking my teeth out.

[Now there's something he didn't think he'd ever find himself saying, and he doesn't take a moment to wonder just why he doesn't feel strange about saying it. He looks down at Steak from his vantage point on the man's lap with an imperious expression - though he doesn't pay too much mind to the pressure against his spine, the clumsy kissing just won't do at all.]

Follow my lead. Do you think you can do that?

( those certainly aren't words he expected he'd have to hear from Red Wine, either, and in their truest fashion, it pisses Steak off to have to hear it. )

You're not my boss!

( ... Steak. why. why are you this way? )

Steak, are you really going to try and have this argument with me right now?

[Steak why are you this way. He is actually enjoying himself, oddly enough, but of course his companion has to ruin things by opening his mouth and talking.]

Do you want to kiss me or not?

( it's a natural reaction! also this is really fucking weird! even if it feels good.

... perhaps especially because it feels good. )

Why would I want to kiss you? It's that damned drink doing it!

( it's hard to have any honesty in those words when your cheeks are as red as your hair, though. )

[Leave it to Steak to ruin the moment. Red Wine rolls his eyes and sighs irritably, giving Steak's shoulder an ineffective shove before he moves off his lap and pointedly picks up his drink again.]

Then you won't care if I stop.

[And he has... mixed feelings about that, honestly. It's difficult to admit that one of them is disappointment.]

Right?

( it's hard to understand why that irritates him so much. the basic answer, the one Steak immediately gravitates towards is: because it's Red Wine, and Red Wine is an annoying bastard.

that's a nice answer. comforting. familiar.

and yet, Red Wine choosing one option makes him want to choose the other. if Red Wine is going to pull back and grab his drink, Steak would rather push buttons and push forwards.

he'll tell himself it's because it's the opposite of what Red Wine thinks he would do, and therefore the most likely to unsettle him. that the way his hand curls around Red Wine's wrist and stops him from raising his glass doesn't twist something warm and excited in his chest. tells himself that his heart isn't beating faster when he leans in to steal another kiss.

that there must be some lingering effect of the drink's magic causing this, because obviously Steak wouldn't choose to do this of his own free will. that's never been how they worked.

they hate each other. they're brothers in arms. they're not people who kiss, he's not the type who is supposed to get distracted and lost in the softness of Red Wine's hair as his other hand sinks back into it, or think about how comfortable Red Wine feels pressed against him and sat in his lap like this.

not at all. )

[Red Wine hardly seems unsettled by this development. Of course his actions had been done purely to needle at Steak and bring him around to what he wanted. Which was... kissing him, apparently.

He's not sure why he wants to kiss Steak so badly at the moment. It isn't that he's never thought about it, in idle moments as fleeting thoughts quickly shooed away before they could provoke the fluttering in the pit of his stomach that always started up if he let them linger.

Like they do now, as he easily abandons his drink and slides himself back into place across Steak's thighs, wrapping both arms around his shoulders and sinking into the kiss he's pulled into.

Maybe they're not people who kiss, but he isn't complaining right now.]

( whatever Red Wine's doing is working for Steak — the arms on his shoulders, the weight in his lap, the press of their lips together all mingling into a groan which gets lost in Red Wine's mouth. he's no need for anything else, or anyone else right now, and certainly no need to think about the natural progression that should follow, even as certain body parts grow firmer and more excited beneath Red Wine's lap.

Steak hums, low and pleased, as his teeth nip at Red Wine's lower lip, the tip of his nose nudging Red Wine's as eyes open just enough to look close at him.

... yep. infuriating in his beauty, even when all Steak can really see are the deep reds of his eyes. )

This is your fault.

( it's the kind of stupid words Steak would normally grumble at Red Wine to start a fight, but they're whispered warm and light against Red Wine's mouth before Steak kisses him again. )

Tch...

[He doesn't get much of a chace to reply before he's being kissed again and he's leaning into it, leaning himself up over Steak and pushing both hands up into his hair. Red Wine curls his fingers around those ridiculous horns and holds on as he parts his lips, pushing his tongue past Steak's teeth to taste him.

On his side, there was nothing he could pinpoint to drive this. The drink had not been given to him as something that would make him want to kiss other people... but could he deny that he had, on some level, wanted this for some time?

... Yes, but wouldn't be true.

Red Wine will take the blame for this without any complaints to the contrary, this time.]

( there are surely explanations Steak could think of that have nothing to do with personal desire. surely there are.

he can't think of any, but that's besides the point! it's probably just alcohol. never mind that in centuries of knowing each other, alcohol has never led them here. never mind that he feels like putty in Red Wine's hands, soft and pliant, melting against his mouth, the hands against his horns having no particular sensation and yet somehow knotting in stomach in strange and unfamiliar ways, for reasons he can't place.

what about this is so different? is it simply the new experience, or the soul in his lap, or...?

he supposes it doesn't matter. all that matters is the curious exploration of his tongue against Red Wine's, and the way his hands skim across a form he should, by rights, know as well as his own. one thrown into sharp relief and shown anew in this moment, leaving Steak's hands running blind over muscles and curves of bone, wanting– needing to memorise it. )

[September Catch-All]

OTA - Nihonbashi, sweet shop

[OTA] Danger Drinks (Blood On My Lips)

(':

eheheh

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oh look we have the same art iconed

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