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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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.