Dane Jonson | River City (
thatsmyjonson) wrote2017-10-17 08:29 pm
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NSFW: Chance Meeting...
The red flags should have been obvious. In fact, they weren't even flags, they were glaring, screaming warning sirens. And yet Dane still ignored them. The first warning was that the guy actually wanted to go somewhere with him. The second was in some of the things the guy said. And the third, he wanted to go somewhere with Dane right now. He didn't have much luck like this, for a very good reason. Dane so often set up himself up for failure that at most he'd get a little action in the cramped bathroom before they never spoke to each other again. And that was if he was really, really lucky, and the other person was really, really desperate.
But sitting at that bar, with this good looking guy so focused on him, he couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the alcohol, but every little touch to his arm felt absolutely electric. His heart raced with every tiny touch, making it hard to think. Well, it was making a lot of things hard, but that was kind of the point. Even when he panicked and made a lewd comment about just how skilled the guy's mouth must be, he stayed. It was going well, too well.
Just when he was starting to worry about the struggle to keep his hands from going places they really shouldn't in such a a public place, the other guy suggested they leave together. Dane thought he might fall off his stool. But there he was, stepping into the crisp night air with basically a stranger, going god knows where. The uncertainty of it all terrified him, it made him want it more. Were they going to some lavish penthouse somewhere, or was the guy going to slam him against a wall and have his way with him? It made his heart thunder in his chest.
"Your car or mine?" he asked, holding up his car keys.
But sitting at that bar, with this good looking guy so focused on him, he couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the alcohol, but every little touch to his arm felt absolutely electric. His heart raced with every tiny touch, making it hard to think. Well, it was making a lot of things hard, but that was kind of the point. Even when he panicked and made a lewd comment about just how skilled the guy's mouth must be, he stayed. It was going well, too well.
Just when he was starting to worry about the struggle to keep his hands from going places they really shouldn't in such a a public place, the other guy suggested they leave together. Dane thought he might fall off his stool. But there he was, stepping into the crisp night air with basically a stranger, going god knows where. The uncertainty of it all terrified him, it made him want it more. Were they going to some lavish penthouse somewhere, or was the guy going to slam him against a wall and have his way with him? It made his heart thunder in his chest.
"Your car or mine?" he asked, holding up his car keys.
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"I don't have a license, so it will have to be yours. And perhaps your place? Mine isn't terribly private," he says, aiming for just a hint of suggestiveness. His place is probably more private than anywhere else, but he's pretending to be a student, and so probably low on space, and he never takes people to his apartment if he can help it. That's his space, and he likes it that way.
Besides, it's always so much easier to make things happen when people let their guard down a little- like, say, in a place they'd usually feel safe. And tonight he's in the mood for pushing, seeing how far he can take what he's doing. He doesn't think it will be terribly difficult, seeing how awkward his companion has been and still is.
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And yet, he found himself smiling. The words "Of course!" tumbling out of his mouth before he could think it through. Because this guy was handsome. And still here. And tall. And looking at him. And not running away. What could possibly go wrong.
"It's...over here!" It took him a moment to engage the gears of his brain to do the memory thing and recall where he'd parked. Which shouldn't have been such a task since it was only half a block down from the club. The car he led them to was practically a relic. A black hatchback from the 80's, almost uncomfortably low to the ground. "Your chariot awaits!" he announced as he unlocked it. Which he somewhat fumbled and nearly dropped his keys again.
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"It's always odd, taking someone strange home, isn't it? Don't worry too much, though. I promise, I have no intention of biting- unless you ask very nicely." He lets the last words sound a little speculative, seeing what kind of reaction that gets him. He might as well start seeing what he can expect.
He doesn't even raise an eyebrow at the car, although it's certainly not his usual style. He settles in the passenger seat gracefully, unwilling to let his dignity be compromised, even if a tipsy human student probably couldn't be expected to move quite the same way. "Whenever you feel ready, although I'd prefer you didn't take too long..."
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Pressing his lips together, he took a slow, deep breath. He actually didn't want to scare this one off. Maybe that was the reason. He wasn't leaning so hard on trying to push someone away that he was unbalanced, not quite knowing what to do. He stayed focused on the immediate task: starting the car and pulling away from the curb. Not an easy task this time of night. But by the time he entered the flow of traffic, he felt a bit more like himself.
"So...just how nicely would I have to ask?" he flashed a crooked smile at his passenger.
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When he does, it's not actually the question he was expecting, but it's by no means a bad one. In fact, it still speaks nicely to the kind of evening Loki was looking forward to.
"Don't you think that's the wrong question?" he asks back, voice lower and rhythmic, starting to pick up a more persuasive tone. "Perhaps you should think about telling me how far you'd go, instead. Just as an example... perhaps if you asked on your knees?"
It's not a very flashy start, or even a particularly original one, but he has always had a thing for people kneeling for him. Besides, it's only intended as a prompt, just to see what shakes loose.
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Hearing the blare of a horn a little too close to him, he snapped up and straightened out the car, having listed slightly to the left. He cleared his throat, trying to get his bearings. "Well, uh...we'll have to see about that." His usual tactic was to hide that aspect as much as he possibly could. What he'd found was that most people just wanted handcuffs and a bit a rough sex, so he let them introduce things rather than scare them off.
It wasn't long at all before he pulled into the parking garage tucked under a small but rather nice apartment complex. "I'm...on the fourth floor," he offered as he killed the engine. "Good enough soundproofing you never hear then neighbors." He glanced at Loki, hoping he would pick up on that. But then he rushed on as he pushed open his door. "We can take the elevator up."
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He's definitely picking up on that, asking almost rhetorically, "And the neighbours can't hear you, either?" Although it wouldn't bother Loki either way, given his own lack of shame, and he might even enjoy being overheard sometimes, it does make it easier sometimes if the other person feels almost as unconcerned about being overheard. Particularly his next nudge, the suggestion a little heavier, a little more magic behind it. He steps out the car easily, crossing the floor to stand next to- Dane, yes, lowering his voice to something much more secretive now they're technically in the open. "So if I asked you to beg, no-one would know except me?" He keeps his expression surprisingly bland, though, as if he's asking nothing more important than where the elevator is.
He hadn't considered it worth really remembering Dane's name before this, but given how well things are going, that's definitely changed.
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But then that second question. He'd pulled out his wallet, a keycard tucked inside, trying to hit the card reader pad with it to get access to the elevators inside. But the question was so...seductive for a moment he just vaguely waved the wallet at the wall, a full foot to the left of the reader. The smile faced from his face, his lips working as if he were about to speak. He could feel the words waiting to spring off his tongue, because why wait until they were in the bedroom? He could think of ten different things to beg this guy for, right here in the garage.
Pressing his lips together, a deep blush flooding his cheeks, he turned his attention back to the door, and slammed his wallet against the reader. "Yeah," he said, finally, his voice unsteady. "You could probably make me scream and they won't hear it." He yanked the door open rather than look him after saying it. His heart was pounding in his chest. This couldn't be happening, could it? He just dashed inside, not even holding the door for his guest, before dashing for the button to call the elevator. He needed to get inside, and he needed it now.
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He catches up at the elevator, slipping an heavy arm around Dane's waist, raising an eyebrow in mock offence. "Well, I won't be able to do that if you don't wait for me." As the doors open, he guides Dane into the elevator, taking his time. "Is patience a problem for you, Dane? Perhaps I should make sure you get some practice at it..." He gives it just a little kick of compulsion, enough to see where the answer lies.
He probably should wait until they're somewhere private, if he doesn't want Dane to collapse, but part of him is enjoying the reaction he gets too much. He's still a god of mischief, deep down, and this isn't even a very harmful mischief- at least, by his standards. He's not really forcing anyone, and perhaps they'll both have an enjoyable evening- although Loki does intend to make sure he enjoys his half, even if Dane does turn out a little less amenable than he has been so far.
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That question, though, there was something about it. Something that hit him in the gut and for just a startling moment, made it hard to breathe. Honestly wasn't exactly his strong suit. What could practice mean? A dozen scenarios, all dramatically different filtered through his mind and he found it difficult to think for other reasons. But still, he smiled, after a moment, he turned his attention back to the tall man pressed to his side. "I just...know what I want and go after it." It was the truth, more or less.
In an unexpected rush of confidence, he spoke again. His mouth working faster than he could consciously keep up. "So...what do I call you?" He pressed himself a little more against Loki, pushing a bit of a suggestive lilt to his words, trying to make it sound flirty. Trying his hardest to hide the fact that he couldn't remember the guy's name at all. He couldn't even remember asking for it. It was also a test. Was this just flirty talk, or was there more behind those promises?
Then again, the deep dark parts of his mind that he rarely ventured into with polite company was playing out a great number of scenarios that would leave Loki as a monster in the view of some. The sort of things that involved duct tape and tears and Dane secretly loving every second of it. If he knew what Loki was planning, he'd be begging for it right there in the elevator. But that would kind of defeat the purpose.
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Well, he will once Loki's pushed enough, although it's starting to look like that won't take very much at all. He's scared more than a few people off before this point, when he just manages to say the thing that makes people realise something is off even with the suggestion, but Dane seems to genuinely find all of it more appealing than otherwise. Well, once they're genuinely alone, perhaps he can tease out what Dane really wants, perhaps even act on it if Loki likes it enough.
Part of him toys with a fake name when he's asked, but it's never quite as satisfying when someone ends up calling it And in this case, with Dane apparently a very biddable subject- well, why not? He looks down, lips turned up in a more predatory way than he has been, arm more tightly around Dane to keep him close. "If you want a name, Loki will do nicely. If there's something else you want to call me, I might not object to a different title." It's not like he hasn't had his fair share of titles over time, and if Dane wants to show a little more respect... well, Loki quite enjoys that.
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But those words. The the nudge was bad enough, but the implication of that promise send a shiver down his spine. It could mean anything. It could mean they'd just go up to his apartment and lay together until Loki decided they'd do anything at all. But the gentle options weren't anywhere to be found in his greedy mind. For a moment he found it hard to breathe, biting his lip and color creeping into his cheeks. He shifted, struggling to stay still, his snug jeans feeling suddenly uncomfortably tight. To the question he only managed a slight nod and a vague "uh-huh," confirming it as true.
If that weren't enough, the open end of the answer about his name presented a dizzying array of possibilities. To the point that he barely processed the guy had a name for a mythological figure that was supposed to be dangerous. If Loki hadn't been nudging at him, he may have dropped in a sarcastic suggestion to call him "sir" or something lofty like "my liege." But tonight sarcasm was the furthest thing from his mind.
"A different title?" He ventured, knowing what he was about to say could be the moment it all went wrong. But he'd already passed that tipping point where he'd stop his hopes from climbing too high. He wanted this, even if it meant he was completely wrong on what this was. "Like...master?" There was something almost timid in the question, the word catching briefly in his throat.
Before either of them could say any more, the elevator dinged and the doors opened to his floor.
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He'd be worried about false positives, but he thinks he can tell what's an enthusiastic yes from a forced yes. And really, part of him doesn't actually care, the old and bitter part that's had one too many run-ins with someone expecting a monster. He's tried being nicer and got nowhere useful, so why not just be something of a monster- particularly with someone who seems happy to let him be.
He escorts Dane from the elevator, adopting a mostly innocent, everything-normal-here look, back to looking a little more like the teenager he ostensibly is. Even his tone changes, lighter, much more like the person he'd been pretending to be in the bar. A little play, just for any potential watchers, just to prevent any nosy interruptions.
"Well? Aren't you going to invite me in properly, now we're here?" he asks, a smile on the edges of his lips, as if he hasn't just spent the trip up suggesting things that would certainly raise a few eyebrows at the least.
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Walking, however, seemed to sober him up slightly. It grounded him, brought him back to reality. What he'd said in the elevator started to play over in his head. What had gotten into him? He was never that forward, never showed his hand like that. But even as anxiety built up, even as he tried to see how it could go wrong or how he could weasel out of it, he couldn't deny how much he still wanted it. Instead of ways out, his mind was drawn toward all of those things that he tried to ignore when he did finally hook up with someone. As long as he ignored them, he wouldn't be quite so disappointed. But some of what Loki had said dragged several things to the front, and suddenly he was thinking about how to get to those rather than how to get out of this.
When they reached his door, he managed to handle his keys better here than at his car. As he shoved the door open, however, he just about stumbled over the threshold just because of what Loki asked. He recovered, more or less gracefully, and flicked on the light inside. Despite the somewhat tattered posters of punk bands on the walls (in frames, at least), the apartment was a lot nicer than Dane's general personality might suggest. Not quite lush, but cozy. It even had a bright red accent wall, of all things.
Dane stepped inside, holding the door for Loki. It seemed to take him a moment to find his voice, before saying somewhat timidly as if suddenly doubting himself. "Come in...master?" He cleared his throat, having lost his confidence from earlier. "The bedroom's...uh..." but his thoughts seemed to bottleneck and he stopped dead. What if he wanted to start right here? Or in the living room? Or was he supposed to call the shots?
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"And now we're alone. Much better, don't you think?" Loki certainly thinks so, turning to face Dane, resting his fingers lightly under Dane's chin, keeping it tilted up so he can see Dane's face clearly. He doesn't need to be heavy handed, when even a light touch has a god's strength behind it- although he might be later, depending on how the evening goes.
And speaking of heavy-handed, he might perhaps have pushed just a little too far, considering how stiff Dane seems to have gone. He makes his voice more soothing, the magic in it a little more reassuring this time. "Relax just a little, I think. I'm not going to punish you for making reasonable suggestions, unless you'd prefer it that way." He smiles again, confident now and no reason to hide it. Dane chose to call him 'master', without Loki choosing it specifically; the choice says a lot, to him. "The final decision will still be mine, of course, but that's what you want, isn't it?"
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After a moment, he was able to reign it in, before he got too wide-eyed. But still his heart thundered in his chest as he gazed up at Loki. Perhaps it was the command to relax, or just his own neediness taking root, but this time he found the words without too much trouble.
He nodded, saying "I want what you want." And he meant it. It felt strange, not pushing, but being flippant or sarcastic. But it was like his reasons for doing that had been stripped away.
He started to reach for Loki, wanting to get him out of his clothes. For a moment he hesitated, torn between being good and being not so good. But there was no temptation better for him than the promise of punishment. His hands found Loki's coat, intent to pull him down for a kiss. At long last.
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"Did I say I wanted you to do that?," he asks, eyebrow up, hands closing around Dane's wrists, grip tight but not actually cruel. Not yet. "I don't recall asking for it... or for your hands on me."
Not that he objects to being wanted, but better to get the patterns laid out now, he thinks. Particularly as Dane seems to want to be punished, given the way he'd looked before. He gives it another moment before he lets go of Dane's wrists, just to make sure the message is clear.
"I think you should take your own clothes off first. Here, and now." He nudges a little more, making it sound like a very good idea, something that Dane genuinely should want to do. And it should make it clear who has the power in the room, too.
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For once, though, he stayed quiet. Typically he would have found a button to push, a sarcastic comment or a faked disregard for the other's authority. He knew what he would have said, but still he held his tongue. It was in that moment, that lack of desire to bite back, that a seed of suspicion took root. Something wasn't right here, he knew that much. Something was just ever so slightly off in a way he couldn't quite see.
It was emphasized by the fact that when he was ordered to take off his clothes, though he had his typical "make me" ready to hand, he never actually spoke the words. The urge to say it died away a moment later. But that was all he had to go on, because he really did want to do what Loki was asking. Maybe for once he just didn't feel like being a brat, after all.
He started to strip without much hesitation. There wasn't much flair to it. He peeled off his teeshirt, letting it drop to the floor as he kicked off his shoes. That was the easy part. He then unfastened his belt and set to peeling his jeans off. He had to steady himself on the wall, as they were quite snug. But soon those joined the shirt on the floor. Then came the socks, one after the other. And at last, his boxers. He hooked his thumbs under the band, glancing at Loki. Another faint urge to be flippant died away before finally stripping them off.
However, some things are difficult to squash completely. As he held the underwear in his hands, a sly smile crept onto his lips. He tossed them at Loki. Not in any way that could be mistaken as sexy, since he balled them up and tossed them at the other's face. Then again, there was the promise of punishment on the table, and he wanted to know just how far Loki was willing to go.
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"I think you should kneel," he says, tone still conversational, but the suggestion heavier than he's let himself get so far. Now they're alone, and he can be sure there's nothing literally up Dane's sleeve, subtlety can be put aside a little more. "And then- perhaps if you're apologetic enough, this doesn't have to go any further."
He looks down at his nails, letting the small illusions he's been keeping up fade. Not many, just enough to make the green of his eyes a little duller, hide the fact his nails are naturally black, but now he doesn't need them either. Only after a moment does he look back up, when he's sure he's made his point on Dane's relative importance right now. "Or are you the kind of person who'd rather see how far I'm willing to go, Dane?"
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Then came that command. Kneel. He practically dropped to his knees from standing, the softest moan escaping his lips. It shouldn't have excited him so much. This man...this god before him could be planning to do any number of horrible things to him. And yet he felt his cheeks flushing as arousal crept up through him. His imagination had so often entertained fantasies about all that magic could accomplish, but it had always been pure fiction. And here it was.
His chest rose and fell, visibly, fighting down the urge to apologize, just because he was told he should. When Loki spoke again, he had an out. A sly sort of smile crept onto his face. "Why should I apologize?" He asked, sounding as cocky as he could manage. "I'm not sorry." Trying so hard to communicate that he did truly and honestly want Loki to go as far as his heart desired. There was something rather poetic in it, sacrificing himself to a god.