EVENT {OPEN} PT4

[expergisci]

Comments

[extratemporal]

[ Did it look like he was ending it? His bad, but that was fine; Magato'd understand, soon enough.

The sickening brittle crunch of exposed bone forced half-dry spittle and blood out of the bellboy's gaping mouth, projected across Hazama's shoes, but there was no time to pout about the dry cleaning with that large, sharp knife swiping out to feel through his body, to push through his guts if he gave it the chance. Magato was one speedy, frisky little bitch, wasn't he. But no victory was that easy.

The spinning butterfly knife clipped it easily, threw it off; the sound of the clashing metal shot straight through him, and Hazama's low laugh was almost comical, bleeding out of him as uncontrollably as an open wound. ] Nice try! [ The same movement and he brought out a second balisong in his other hand, and spinning them together, swiped them down and up across Magato's body, close enough to vivisect him if he didn't move his ass.

For a girly-twirly knife, he used it with lethal precision - but Magato was no slouch either, was he? For a garden-variety human thug, at least! Not that it'd stop Hazama fucking him with it in the end, under normal circumstances... but winning wasn't actually in his repertoire, this time. He wasn't at any risk from this guy, he knew, and if Magato was aware of his abilities right from the start, well, shit. Where was the fun in that?

It was a lot more fun when he got the jump. ]

What a cute knife, ~Captain~! Army surplus, or toy shop?

[noisefucker]

[ Well one of them had to end it, didn’t they -- ?

The slick sound of bones cracking and an empty wheezing sound emerging went completely unnoticed as he lunged himself towards Hazama. To say that his movements were clumsy was bullshit - but he didn’t lack any sort of impulsive cruelty either, so when he twisted his blade to slice through Hazama’s guts (The contact was, unfortunately broken off and deflected by the other’s knives -- ) Magato was planning for a full evisceration.

Lips slipped into a further grin as his own blade clipped; carnivorous teeth and all showing with enough indication that he couldn’t wait to sink them into Hazama’s neck and rip out his throat. Their proximity close enough to do so, and Magato only watched with a barking laughter as Hazama revealed another balisong, ] A natural performer! [ When they were this close, it was expected for Magato to receive some of the damage, it was almost intentional how he allowed the blades to swipe along his visage, grazing the flesh of his cheek with a cut deep enough to let it bleed.

But Hazama wasn’t about to go without praise either, or without being fucked himself. Because the moment the instruments that twirled within Hazama’s hands had reeled back, Magato coiled his free hand into fist, grappling at Hazama’s hair; proximity almost non-existent as he shoved Hazama against the wall, his own blade underneath Hazama’s throat with a pressure that was threatening to dismember.

-- And that was when he leaned in. ] You’re going to make me blush, officer.

[extratemporal]

Hey, hey, woah there - [ And then there was the cold wall up against his back, the hot weight of Magato's body and his breath bearing up against him, and haha hey, he was pretty heavy once you got close to him. He let him have that one, for as subtle as it was; he wouldn't have gotten all that far if he couldn't pretend to suck, would he?

And it was tit for tat at this point, given that that slow, lazy crawl of blood down Magato's face was there because Magato wanted it to be, and the whole thing was so phony at this point that Hazama had to try really, really hard to look surprised about being pinned. But his knives were there anyway, something so instinctive and natural that, well, there was no helping it: one at Magato's stomach, barely keeping the scant distance between their bodies, and the other right below his left eye, that dark black ball boring into him, ready to gouge it out at a moment's notice.

He could feel the knife at his own throat, fair again, and jerked his head up, never quite far enough to stop it pricking the skin. But his eyes stayed fixed on Magato's, and that false rapid breathing of his slowly evened. ]

Going that far's a little bit harsh. Us Intelligence Officers are noncombatants by nature. [ He relaxed his head back against the wall, a lazy grin spreading across his face, regardless. Fake fakey fake, and Magato already knew it, didn't he. Despite his best efforts. ]

... No need to stand on ceremony when I'm nailed to wall, by the way. Although, it sounds like you're having fun with that whole officer thing.

[noisefucker]

[ Neck craned to the side; flaunting the cut that was inflicted on him and each hot exhale that emerged from his mouth would’ve felt like a slap of wet cloth against Hazama’s face. Lips pulled back, and the blade had pierced the flesh of Hazama’s neck. ( -- A little prick, in all honesty, but if you would rub salt on the wound it would be something you wish you could die from.)

There was something displeasing to the knife that was held at his stomach it almost felt like a fucking heartbreak -- and he only cocked his head with the cut along his face that felt like a kiss as he murmured with lewd mock-disappointment, ] Are you breaking up with me already…? [ The small textures of steel that grazed underneath his eye as he tilted his head only made him twitch in the slightest as he continued. ] I have a bit of a kink with the authorities, it’s nothing personal.

[ On the contrary, it was every little bit personal, but how could Hazama notice that? It was, as a matter of fact, obvious enough; how Magato leered at him, eyes gazing along him in a lewd anticipated manner, and a low snort to follow.

As much as the knife that had its tip dig slowly into the fabric of Magato’s vest, it didn’t help much with separating their proximities. And with his leg firmly placed in between Hazama’s and nudging them aside with the joint of his knee, Magato quickly reeled back from the blades that were threatening to turn him into mince and jerked said knee upwards while driving Hazama’s skull downwards.

-- But now, this was nothing but a little rough-house. ]

[extratemporal]

[ - Yeeeeah, he did kind of get that impression. Something about where he's putting his knee down there, and the fact that he's breathing on his face so hard that all the breath Hazama pulls into his lungs burns hot from his body warmth and actually, that's kind of gross, but, welp. Special circumstances, making friends, sometimes you have to tolerate a few funny quirks. It all pays off later, when you return it tenfold.

But nothing's just pulling moves with Magato, is it. So Hazama can see that coming long before it arrives, that cheap, shitty, slutty little move of his, and he worms out of it easily - swipes one arm up to cockblock Magato's hold on his hair, the other braces his knee away from his face, and he slips past him; he pushes him into the momentum of his own movement, and he's behind Magato in a second, a hand fisting in fall of black tangled hair and dried blood (his butterfly knife already shut, tucked away inside his coat, the other pointing up into Magato's spine) and shoving him up hard against the wall where Hazama had just been.

Tricky guy. It's more than he wanted to show him, already, but hey. There are some indignities he's not gonna hold up to for anyone, no matter how cute they are. ]

Ooooh, aren't you a mean little puppy when you get excited. But you're gonna have to try a heeeell of a lot harder if you want to reach third base with me, Captain... [ He drives the blade up against Magato's skin, pricks through that little gay nightclub jacket of his. ]

Seriously, though - for future reference? Telling a guy you like him and then trying to mess up his face is sending mixed signals.

[noisefucker]

[ Skull mashed against the cold wall and Magato was breathing cement. Hand grasping at his hair and the knife that was suddenly slicing through the leather fabric of his vest had him let out a loud barking laugh -- teeth slightly grazing along the wall that sent pinpricks through his nerves and fingers coiled into fisted. Did Hazama really think he was going to put out that easy like a back alley whore?

-- Well. He was completely wrong.

Even with the cloth coiling around his ribs that was slowly being sliced through ( -- As painfully slow as it was, it only pushed Magato’s anticipation even further as the leather slipped from his frame. To say that Magato was fashion conscious was a lie, and his grin was only half-apathetic and careless as the material fell to the ground. ) none of that stopped Magato from letting out another laugh that sounded hollow and acidy as soon as it left his tongue. ] A little strip huh? -- I’m suddenly feeling violated! [ Another obvious lie, but they both knew that. ] I was hoping for a full home run.

[ Within a split second, Magato had coiled his hand around the wrist that was having a affair with his hair and twisted it - in turn using the momentum to turn himself to face Hazama. The knife now pointed at his chest was soon enough horizontally at his back, ] You could always look better.

[ It seemed all too quick, how Magato managed to manipulate Hazama’s joints. The other’s back now facing him, and with a few swift kicks to the back of Hazama’s knees Magato forced Hazama face-down on the ground, straddling his thighs, and combat knife out -- free hand pinning him down and the tip of the sharp instrument working it’s way at Hazama’s jacket as he leaned in. ] Let's see how you like it.

[extratemporal]

[ Hitting the floor knocked the air out of him for a second, and he laughed breathlessly, bit back the fuck! forming at the back of his mouth. ] What, weren't you enjoying it? What a cheat... [ Hahahahaha, oh, and he had pride too! Obviously a dog that hasn't been kicked enough times, but that's fine, and Hazama dropped and he was pretty happy to let him enjoy the moment, you know, just to see what happened - at least until the knife started slicing through his suit. It was fine when it was the shitty rags that Magato wore, but this? This was his precious, precious suit! ]

Hey hey hey, enough of that -

[ He jerked back suddenly, caught the side of Magato's temple with his elbow and, groping around for something to grab onto and only finding Magato's dark hair again (oh, yeah - he stripped him, didn't he? His mistake -), he followed the movement through until he'd flipped them over in a clumsy flurry of limbs and bare skin. He sat back on Magato's hips, eye-to-eye with him and breathing a little harsh, and they were in the puddle of blood the bellboy left behind, but hell. There was no hiding the signs of a scuffle that now lay in the sharp shredded lines of his jacket. What difference was a big red patch on his leg going to make, now?

For a good second or two, he looked agitated. And he was, a little bit, because it was fine to mess around and all, but he really didn't want to be forced to show Magato more than just some knife-tricks. The guy just didn't know how to stay down at all.

... But it was still fine, right. So Hazama relaxed, smiled, ran the fingers of his free hand back through his slicked hair. Because who cares, really, what Magato did? He just needed him to stay alive and interesting, give him something to do until this shitpile disintegrated, like it inevitably would. Just like the last. ]

... You put on a pretty good show, "Mister" Magato! And here I thought you were gonna be some useless wayward thug but, hahaha. At least you're a step up from that.

[noisefucker]

-- I have high standards. [ The comment was immediate as it slurred out of his mouth with low heavy exhales and lips spread into a wry smirk. Eyes half-narrowed as the blade started to make it’s way to return the favor ( -- With the way that arm was twisted horizontally behind Hazama’s back, it looked like that had to go as well.) - a shame, a nice looking suit like that having to be turned to shreds. The only problem was that Magato was too wrapped up in the image of Hazama on his gut, sprawled out with clothes torn off and flesh carved from bone that he didn’t even notice the jerk of Hazama’s elbow making it’s way to the side of Magato’s head.

A sharp grunt, a low croaking laugh, and Magato held the side of his head. And here he was thinking play time was over.

With Hazama reversing the roles, (Not that Magato minded, everyone deserved their fifteen minutes of fame.) Magato let out a low long-drawled out exhale mingled with a laugh. The blood below him still feeling lukewarm against his skin, and he almost relished against the cooling warmth. ] Trying to get a one-up on me, babe? [ But that didn’t matter, not much anyway.

Hair dyed a darker shade of black against the blood and plastered to his back, and he sat up; one arm reaching behind Hazama and he shoved a fist in that newly-slicked back hair, yanking Hazama’s head to crane upwards and his blade slashed upwards. He missed his chance before, didn’t he? It would have been cruel if Hazama continued to deprive him...

A thin line of blood started to emerge along Hazama’s abdomen -- the hem to the collar of Hazama’s suit completely divided and he leaned in to whisper against the hot flesh of Hazama’s throat -- close enough that he could almost hear the pulsing of veins as hips were set to grind. ]

You didn’t think I was finished, did you -- ?

THIS LOG HAS GONE FROM R TO NC-17 AT SOME POINT, I'm sorry for the lack of warnings! We forgot. :(

[extratemporal]

[ Hahaha oh man, man, he really was going for it, wasn't he. Did it really turn him on just that much, all this shit-kicking around, this stupid little playtime? Well, that made one of them, at least after he put that knife through his suit - and through his skin a little as well, and it was sharp and swift and sore like a papercut, all the way from stomach to clavicle, and he sucked in a little pissy breath about it. His blood blotted through where the cut was deepest, lots of little beads all the way down, and when he breathed in, they started to drip, staining the space between them.

Geez, this guy was a lot of trouble...

Hazama jolted just a little bit when Magato's body moved beneath him, very purposefully pressing up with his hips against Hazama's, and it was disgusting and hilarious at once, and he didn't know whether to grimace or just fucking laugh in his face about it. In the end, though, he just grinned, let a little, low laugh work out past his sharp teeth and the tongue pressing up behind them, and he put his butterfly knife back in his damaged coat, pressed his free hands down on Magato's throat, back into his sticky clot-knotted hair (pretty easy to twist his neck like that, if this got to be too much of a pain -) and met his rhythm.

Well, hey. His body was still a body, artificial or not. ]

What's this, now? Hahahahah, shit, am I getting my leg humped?! [ Magato was close, right down near his throat (and he guessed that that was the point, right: he could break his neck, but Magato could rip his throat out like the little savage stray he is, tit for tat) and Hazama inclined his head, his voice rough against the man's ear. ] Just give up before I kill you, already. You were so much more fun when you were pinned to a wall!

[noisefucker]

[ Magato just couldn’t help himself. The light slash along his cheek and his torso stripped of any clothing -- his back against the pool of blood with senses exposed to the cooling innards that had their coppery smell and taste drove Magato’s nerves into override. Inhaling sharply with the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, it was only predictable that he would let out a low exhale of a laugh as he found himself straddled by a green-haired now-shirtless (Hand against the fabric of Hazama’s suit, prying the cloth off with dismissive ease.) freak who played with the blood and his hair. A little light fondling was enough to get his blood boiling.

Combar knife withdrawn, slipped back into it’s hoister without a second though, mouth almost pressed against the flesh that throbbed with veins underneath a thin layer of skin - and it was only a light graze of teeth against flesh. ]

Can you blame me -- ? A pretty thing like you in a place like this, all alone? You were basically begging for it... [ The back of his skull meeting the bloodied floor once again, hand coiled around his neck with the indication of threatening to crush bones and esophagus -- but there was not a single waver in his expression that displayed displeasure, if anything, it was the low grunt that indicated the complete opposite. His own hands coated in blood, and Magato was shameless in the way he gripped at one of Hazama’s hips, letting his own press against Hazama’s as he hoisted the other’s down.

With the heat that settled between their bodies, and the hand that was slowly crushing his throat, Magato only let out a feral vulgar laugh at Hazama’s face. ] -- I’m more bite than bark, babe. I’ll make sure you enjoy this just as much as I will.

[ And he was willing to prove that with nails that dug into the flesh of Hazama’s waist and teeth grazing his neck, free hand coated in blood underneath Hazama’s jaw as his teeth pierced the flesh of the other’s neck and nails raking down skin until peelings of flesh dug underneath them. ]

[extratemporal]

[ Pretty thing? Hazama laughed out loud, only a little out of breath when he dragged his hands down to Magato's beltloops, keeping his hips right where he wanted them while they moved together. Pretty fucking thing. That was a first, and geez, wasn't that cute, wasn't it just so fucking cute that Magato didn't understand his position in the slightest. Wasn't that just what he wanted.

But goddamn, once he was done having fun here, he was going to kick this kid's teeth right down his oesophagus. ]

... Hahahah! Are you delusional, or did I just catch you at a desperate, lonely time in your life? [ His hot breath hissed out through bared teeth, half-anger and half-excitement, and the feeling of Magato's nails was just a white sharp sensation that reddened slowly, grew painful with an unusual slowness, filtering in through a haze of adrenaline, blood, euphoria, lust, anger. There went the nice paintjob, but no big deal, right. He wasn't really the bruising type.

He tightened his grip on Magato, damn near throttling him by the squeeze he put on his neck - but it sure as shit gave him an amazing grip to grind their hips right down together, rocking against him with a quick, crude, uneven rhythm. He could smell blood from Magato's hair and his fingers smearing across his nice suit pants, and when Hazama put his free hand down past Magato's head and felt the wetness there on the stone, he knew it wasn't from the damp, and he could see the bellboy's white eyes, all rolled up, half-watching the show through his empty pupils.

The blood dragged from Hazama's hand down over Magato's white chest, smeared a big long handprint in its wake, sticky and clotting and half-dry already, spread like cheap uneven paint over muscles and bones. It smelt rank, the whole place smelt fucking rank and Hazama's nose bumped on Magato's, his teeth snagging on his bottom lip just long enough to rip a little skin away, blood beading out in thick, heavy drops, and it stank even more, but it really wasn't enough. Just some stupid, pissy little game, because Magato was fun, but he didn't hate him, he didn't resent this, and Hazama kind of wanted him to. ]

... If only you were as good at this as you are at talking...

[noisefucker]

[ Teeth were soon enough glossed over by the metallic taste that was heavy in his mouth as his tongue ran over the wound that blossomed blood along Hazama’s neck. A low groan emerged from his mouth, and the noise halted into a shortening grunt as he felt muscles being crushed within his throat by the hand that continued to coil around his throat.

The pretty green-haired bitch wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t have a fucking chance. It must be too fucking easy when they were this close, crush his throat in and then leave, what kind of excitement was that...

Heavy breath against his neck, and nails dug in further; scrapes of flesh and blood spiraling underneath his nails and hands were now painted with a rich crimson. Sensations riling his body, tensing every moment, and he was reluctant to pull away from the fastening around his neck, so he only leaned in as he sneered with a heavy exhale full of wanton lust, ] Oh -- ? I’m hurt you’d think that, officer… [ But who could say that he was neither of those things? This was a fucking riot and he couldn’t deny it as his own hand clasped around the wrist that continued to crush his throat - fingers digging into veins as the grinding of hips sent a spark of lustful sensations traversing up his spine.

Blood acting like body paint with the dead eyes of a pervert looking on, none of this could turn Magato on any further than they already had. Deep pants, and he yanked away the hand that continued to proceed on crushing his throat, leaving a imprint of pretty little bruises that circled around his neck like a fucking piece of black-blue jewelry, and Magato already felt like he was having a night out in town. Sharply inhaling a lungful of oxygen, Magato wrapped his long fingers around Hazama’s wrist, grin pried into a sharp barking laughter, ] Practice makes perfect.

[ The heat that settled between their bodies was just fucking waiting to be closed, and Magato released the wrist before returning to the now-bloodied back of his new favorite acquaintance. Hips pulsing with an accelerating unneeded instinct to impulsively fuck with his free hand underneath Hazama’s thigh, gripping into the material and flesh as his other made it’s way upwards, gripping into green hair with his upper body pressed against the other’s, lips violently meeting Hazama’s with teeth galore and the reeking taste of blood. ]

sorry for the wait cupcake. :

[extratemporal]

[ Oh, whoops, almost asphyxiated him for a second, there! It was kind of easy to forget that he was dealing with the same bundle of physical weaknesses as any other regular human, at least when Magato was apparently getting such a huge kick out of shit most people would kind of make a big fuss about. And it was pretty ridiculous, pretty funny, the whole situation, but he wasn't about to pretend it wasn't interesting to him, either. Magato seemed like a pretty simple animal, an impulsive crazy little lump of flesh craving mindless reward (gee, why did that sound familiar?) and it was pretty pitiful, but it worked out well for him, too.

He was like something the Boundary would cook up. But, uh. Less slimy and odorous.

... And, hell. After a while, somewhere in the haze of dully throbbing cuts and Magato being incapable of keeping his grabby little hands to himself, it kinda started feeling good, too. Kinda. And Hazama really didn't care by the time his wrist was seized, didn't care because he was in hysterics already, laughing hard through his sharp teeth until Magato shut him up with his mouth.

Then he just sank them in impulsively, drew blood thickly and laughed into that, instead, as their rhythm became short and panicked and, haha, lucky there wasn't much left to stain. ]