evowhisperer | IC Voicemail

*Cesar's eyes flicker his way at the cry, but it's easier to focus on the shotglass instead, and when it's downed he studies it as though there might be secrets hidden in the cheap glass.*

*He does feel better. He has more room to breath, now, and driving that cry from someone who's gone out of their way to cause so much pain has given him a vindictive curl of satisfaction that barely took the edge off of everything that's still pent up inside. It's not that he's a cruel person, or that he enjoys seeing people in pain. He doesn't. It was just... circumstantial.*

*Cesar rotates the shotglass back and forth, eyebrows low and back curved defensively. On impulse he waves for the bartender's attention, holding three fingers up and tapping his chin. Water. He should have some, shouldn't he?*

Edited 2015-09-23 01:06 (UTC)

[If Ryuzaki sees a spark of the pleasure, it's something he can respond in kind to. That's what he's there for, that's what he thrives on, even if it means a little bit of temporary discomfort. He catches sight of Cesar's sign, mouth twisting into a smirk.]

What he said, bartender. Three more shots of whiskey, the W is for whiskey.

*'What?' he mouths, looking at Ryuzaki. By the time he looks back to the bartender the man is already pouring shots, and he only lifts his eyebrows at Cesar's signaling gestures.*

*Cesar doesn't try very hard, sighing and shooting Ryuzaki another sour look. This next shot will be his fourth one, if he takes it, and this is on top of what he'd already had before arriving. How much had that been? He tries to remember what the bottle looked like when he'd started, but he hadn't checked. His body feels pleasantly warm, now and his thoughts are loose enough that the original pain--Lazarus, Misa, twins--is nearly tolerable.*

*This wasn't the first ex he'd had that had gone on to marry and have 2.1 children. Sonia had been terrific, and Cesar had sent wedding gifts when he'd heard the news. It wasn't the fact that they were separate that made Lazarus' casual reveals so bad, it was how they'd ended, and that at some level Cesar had assumed that Lazarus would stay the way he was: unavailable to anyone and focusing on himself. Of course he'd been mistaken; it hadn't been some permanent mental handicap, it'd been a medication issue, and from the sounds of it it'd cleared up the moment his medications returned. Why would Lazarus want to remain single? As offputting as he was, he still had an unusually magnetic effect on the people around him. He was honest. He meant well.*

*The moody, surly drunk Ryuzaki has been coaxing continues to study his empty shotglass, ignoring the new row that's been lined up in front of him.*

Edited 2015-09-23 04:25 (UTC)

[Ryuzaki glances back at him, winking impishly as the shots get lined up on the counter in front of them.]

Salud, Cesar.

[He takes one of the shot glasses, too, drinking it down in one smooth motion.]

Come on. You're not going to make me finish these myself, are you? It's your turn. Unless you're ready to stop, of course, in which case we can find somewhere a little quieter. What'll it be?

*Cesar shoots him a look, but reaches for another shot. The fact that he sips instead of throwing it back says a lot about his current levels of intoxication. What says even more is how he's considering the possibilities:*

*The first option is to stay there and drink. Could he drink forever? Obviously not, as he'd probably pass out or fall asleep at the bar. It wouldn't be such a terrible thing on its own, but there's nothing that feels safe or friendly about this club, and he's almost certain that he would wake up relieved of cash and credit cards.*

*The next option is to go with Ryuzaki. Cesar swallows, and the whisky's burn is barely registering by now. Maybe they could have a little fun, and Cesar could pretend he was having the last night with Lazarus that he never got to have...*

*Pathetic. Cesar grimaces and drags his free hand down the front of his face, sober enough to be humiliated by these thoughts and not sober enough to avoid them. He needed to get over himself. Maybe he'd be better off going with the man to a dark corner and punching him out, then tottering unsteadily all the way home. It was no more than Ryuzaki deserved....*

*The third is to simply leave. He doesn't find this one as appealing as the other two, for one because Ryuzaki would probably just follow him home, and for another because he's already tried it, and each time he stands Ryuzaki intercepts him. He could force the man away, of course, but there's an emotional fatigue that's stealing his will to make himself heard over Ryuzaki's cajoling. At the very least he wants to stay until he's recovered a little more.*

*Cesar takes a longer sip of whiskey, glancing at Ryuzaki with what he probably thinks is discreet consideration.*

Edited 2015-09-23 20:31 (UTC)

[The look is met with a benign, soft smile and Ryuzaki's glinting eyes. They go to Cesar's lips as the other man drinks the shot more slowly, undoubtedly feeling its burn more acutely. It's cheap stuff, certainly not for sipping. That alone is enough to make someone sick.

He holds up a hand, as if about to proclaim scout's honor.]

I could push you down, or I could pull you up to go somewhere better. It's up to you. What are we doing, Cesar? Something we've never done before?

[He reaches into his coat, pulling a condom out, biting the corner of the package and letting it hang over his lower lip.]

*The condom dangles from Ryuzaki's mouth like a charm, and Cesar stares at it, surprised he had one on himself at all. Seconds tick on. His mind is working surprisingly well for someone who's had as much to drink as he has, but it's going in circles, and an actual decision dances just out of his grasp.*

*.... Finally he reaches it. His gaze drops, and he tips back the last of the shot, swallowing it down to brace himself. His eyes go from the shotglass to Ryuzaki's head. Then to his neck, and his chest, and the shotglass again.*

*He meets Ryuzaki's gaze again, now, giving him a smile that's supposed to be agreeable, but that's turned out bitter and tense. He nods, lifting two fingers by way of answer. The second one. The second answer of which question? Either works, and he stands again, reaching for the last shot. He doesn't knock this one back.*

Edited 2015-09-24 02:50 (UTC)

[He grins around the condom package, tilting his chin lower so his eyes look wider, both hungrier and more innocent. Well... mock-innocent, at least, no one would ever believe that was truly the case.

He sits up a little straighter, feeling Cesar's less-than-focused gaze trailing downward along his form and reveling in it. His silvery laughter sounds at the indicated number.

His finger hooks around Cesar's belt loop.]

I like this song. It's got a good rhythm. A good beat. Let me want you. Let me take care of you.

*Cesar's smile is pasted in place with styrofoam-like pleasantness, all fake and insubstantial. He nods, turning to face Ryuzaki more. Any signs he makes are butchered by the shotglass held in his left hand, and he's making every effort not to spill or put the glass down for whatever reason. It's a serious hindrance.*

{Can we go somewhere quieter to do this?}

[He squints slightly, trying to make out the signs, biting back more laughter. He knows Cesar well enough, especially given their checkered history, to realize that this probably isn't ideal compliance, that he's still trying to move forward with some kind of trick up his sleeve. Ultimately, it's still exciting and intriguing.]

Quieter? You mean somewhere you can hear all the sadness and emptiness?

[He anchors himself on the belt loop, pulling himself up and locking eyes with Cesar, close enough to smell the whiskey on the other man's breath.]

I'm willing to share, but... I can make all the decisions tonight if you want someone to take charge. I'm good at that. I can think of a place in back, an area sectioned off for this kind of thing, with furniture just the right height to bend a man over and give him something to hold onto for dear life. That could be me, if you think you can get it up... or, you know, that could be you...

Edited 2015-09-24 03:35 (UTC)

*Cesar braces himself against the counter while Ryuzaki pulls himself up, and then he's close enough to feel his warm breath on his face, and have his vision pinned by dark eyes that can see straight into his skull. There is no way to hide from them, no disguise for the way his eyes widen, or the pauses in breath while his gut swoops pleasantly. '... If want someone to take charge.' Pause. 'That could be me', Ryuzaki said. '... or, you know... that could be you...'*

*His mouth is dry. At this closeness the swallow is impossible to miss, and he breaks his stare, feeling naked already.*

*The moment cracks when Cesar claps a hand to Ryuzaki's shoulder, bracing himself as much as giving himself a somewhat literal upper hand. He doesn't seem to want to let Ryuzaki see him giving any of this much thought, as though keeping his answers vague will hold hide his yearnings protectively. Ryuzaki can't appeal to them if he doesn't know what they are, after all. Cesar gestures forward with the shotglass, wordlessly inviting him to lead the way.*

Edited 2015-09-24 04:14 (UTC)

[Though Ryuzaki is Lazarus' exact opposite in a lot of ways, the eyes are the same, their piercing, attentive quality swallowing up everything in their line of sight. For someone known to respond to them and their stifling effect, it's probably fairly difficult to ignore the way he's bending every ounce of his focus on Cesar.

His laugh turns giddy as Cesar's hand falls to his shoulder, a little rougher and less coordinated than a sober man would. He accepts the invitation gladly, leading Cesar by his belt loop and weaving his way through the writing bodies comprising the crowd.

This particular club has many dark, strange, anonymous corners, some of which provide slightly more quiet and privacy than others. A few have audiences. A few have more than two participants. The one that Ryuzaki was referring to has no one, revealed when he pushes aside a heavy velvet curtain and pulls Cesar toward a vinyl-covered bench that is, as he mentioned, just the right height to bend a man over.]

*Cesar freezes as the curtain sweeps closed behind them, staring around in shock. There's two walls made of brick, and two of heavy folds of cloth that blot light just as efficiently, and absolutely nothing else to hide them from the rest of the club. It's the most public place for sex he's ever been in, and he's looking around as though a second look would change things for the better.*

*It doesn't. The shotglass is still held stubbornly in his hand (even though most of its contents were knocked on is clothes by the seething crowd outside) and he tightens his grip, eyes leveling themselves towards Ryuzaki.*

*This isn't going to be easy. The ground feels like the deck of a ship in a storm, and Ryuzaki isn't nearly as drunk as him. Cesar finally turns his attention back to him, and the shift is screaming itself in the darkness.*

*His eyes are bright with excitement. Every muscle is tense. He holds the glass less like a jealous drunkard and more like someone armed, and it's all the warning Ryuzaki has before Cesar strikes.*

*One wild swing towards Ryuzaki's skull, heavy-side of the glass first. A second, third if he misses, or if the first two don't bring him down. He's stumbling, and by the third he's tripping over his own feet, falling heavily. The shotglass shatters close to his head, and Cesar flinches when the glass throws a shard close to an eye. He doesn't even notice the cut that a different shard does make, tiny and welling up with blood.*

Edited 2015-09-24 05:31 (UTC)

[Between the alcohol and the molly, Ryuzaki is just messed up enough to have fun and see the most exciting and positive facets of every event and encounter. It makes for a volatile, weird situation, and as he's turning toward Cesar to reach for his belt, ready to drop to his knees and start right there to chase away the last traces of reluctance the man might harbor, he's being hit in the side of the head with an uncoordinated but weighted blow.

Though he has more weight and muscle on him than Lazarus from a year of chomping bacon and working out, he's still lighter in build than Cesar, and he goes down, violently and instantly, hitting the ground, a goose's egg already starting to rise under the skin of his scalp. Glass shatters, Cesar staggers back, and Ryuzaki is rising with ringing, wild laughter. His eyes are alive and dangerous.]

Ha! That's more like it! Is that all you've got? Come at me again, if you can.

[He's injured, but he's not hurt. It should be becoming terrifyingly clear that Ryuzaki responds to many kinds of passion exactly the same way, with monstrous, bottomless hunger.

He kneels next to Cesar, taking his time, running a finger along the tiny cut and licking and sucking the blood from his own flesh.]

I thought you wanted to get off. If you want to get scared... well, I aim to please. Always.

[He draws his fist back, following through with a vicious and far more sober punch to Cesar's jaw.]

*The laughter rings in his head like klaxons from a nightmare. It's not what he expected, and Cesar flinches when a shadow falls over him, bracing for impact. There is none. what...? He's able to push himself up and not be knocked down, and when Ryuzaki touches his face--wiping, not hurting--there's another cringe, smaller and more confused. All Ryuzaki does is suck his own finger. What is he...doing? Is that Cesar's blood? Why isn't he--*

*Drunk-sluggish thoughts don't finish processing the warning before stars explode in his vision, and the next thing he knows is what the floor looks like with his cheek pressed against it. There's grit, and filth, and it smells foul. This was what he expected. This is why he'd hoped to knock Ryuzaki out in a single hit.*

*Cesar rolls over and pushes himself to all fours, scrambling blindly. The world pitches and heaves around him, and he won't get far, but if he can get himself to a curtain or to the bench then maybe he can do--something.*

Edited 2015-09-24 18:07 (UTC)

[Ryuzaki is, like Lazarus, both faster and stronger than he looks. The difference is the extent to which this is true. Still laughing, he dances aside when Cesar staggers to his fours, then starts circling around him, bringing a hand to his head, which is bleeding slightly from where the shot glass hit it. It'll hurt tomorrow, but tonight, the pain sings right along with pleasure in euphoric chorus.]

Cesar! Are you having fun yet? We're just getting started! Come on, get to your feet, unless you want to stay on all fours. We can do it like that. We can do it any way you like.

[He takes a seat on the bench, making a show of looking unconcerned and amused.]

*He's being circled, and laughter fills the tent-like enclosure. Blood sings a silent warcry in his veins and harmonizes with Ryuzaki's voice, and when Cesar levers himself back to his feet he feels more ready to move, more ready to act than he has in months.*

*Ryuzaki dances just out of reach, smiling a trickster's grin. Cesar gives him a glare that promises pain and frustration, and it's obvious escape isn't anywhere in his mind: He wants to punch Ryuzaki's face in, and he wants to avoid hurt. Anything besides those two can wait until he's sober.*

*He's not that much farther away, and it only takes him two steps before he's driving another fist forward, this hit more direct than the one before. He's expecting it to connect, and though he wasn't going fast enough to need to catch himself on the bench, he stops against it anyway, trying to follow Ryuzaki with another hit.*

[He still looks blissfully unconcerned when Cesar comes at him, even when his punch lands squarely and accurately. The second one lands, too, and even though his nose is gushing blood and his eyes can't seem to focus as clearly and sharply, he is still laughing like a broken doll whose voicebox no longer suits his condition or appearance.]

Are you going to kill me, Cesar?

[He takes advantage of the closeness, even with a hostile body, attempting to press his against Cesar.]

Do you know how intimate murder is? It's arguably the most intimate thing you can do to another person. I regret sometimes that I won't leave a body behind when I die... you can't have sex with feathers one last time.

[He wipes his bleeding nose, smearing it across Cesar's cheek with vicious glee.]

*The hand darts between them, and Cesar rears his head back as though he'd been slapped. The fact that he's thoroughly drunk off his ass and has no coordination left is immediately obvious: he tears himself out of Ryuzaki's grip, and it's just long enough to stumble back, overbalance, and fall flat on his ass. His eyes are as big as saucers: blood comes away when he touches his cheek, and his mind is still jangling with a looping track of Ryuzaki's laughter; every time he starts a mental sentence it cuts off and starts over, and he's temporarily beyond words.*

*The moment breaks as he drags his arm across his face, taking away more blood, then wipes the arm on his shirt. His back is hunched, and he looks like a cat that's been badly frightened.*

*At no time does he notice the curtain pulling back.*

Edited 2015-09-29 04:21 (UTC)

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