(no subject)
The bark of the tree pressed sharply into Ticky's back, and the dim awareness that the fabric was probably going to snag on some pointed sliver of wood and ruin his jacket somehow made it even more difficult to take this situation seriously. Not that 'serious' was his exact aim, if he got to pick an expression he would have liked flat disbelief, the kind that the Colonel was so good at toting out in any given situation. But this -- being backed up against a tree by a figure as familiar as his own -- was too absurd to even be really annoyed at.
Ticky couldn't help it, he cracked a smile. "Aren't you a bit too eager?"
His white self made a deep humming sound in the back of his throat while taking a heavy drag on his cigarette. "Nah," the white side finally decided, and pulled the only half-smoked cigarette from his mouth to stub it out on the tree next to Ticky's head.
Ticky followed the motion of the hand next to him, watched the crumpled butt drop to the forest floor, and his lips twitched up again in a way typically only reserved for when he wasn't entirely sure if the Earl was heartmarking in a funny or menacing way. "You know, there's no guarantee this will work."
"Never said it would, but'cha gotta try everything. Right pal?"
"Ah." The white was leaning forward now, on the arm next to Ticky's head, and loomed in a way that shouldn't be physically possible, but Ticky almost had to wonder if his white said wasn't actually bulkier than him afterall. He's heard black was slimming, but this was ridiculous. "There are other methods."
Tilting his head to one side, the white part of him stretched a grin that showed fangs and gave Ticky a fair look at his own weakly hinged sanity.
"Nevermind," Ticky said. He knew his own nature well enough to tell when a choice wasn't really a choice at all. That sharp, faintly amused, but mostly enticed smile didn't have the same effect on him as it would have on someone else in his position. Someone normal. But he could comply or he could not and he was quite certain white self would enjoy both equally.
It seemed ironic that he was being threatened with rape by the half of him that was supposed to be good. Or, at least as close to it as the whole of him could get.
"Hoh," his white self chuckled and closed what little distance was left until Ticky could smell his own cigarettes twice as well. "Knew you'd see it my way, boss."
Ticky found kissing himself odd. Though not as pleasantly satisfying as it was when he was the one backing others into trees, it still erotic on a level that would have been embarrassing if he actually had any shame. But there was something off about the experience Ticky couldn't quite put a finger on, and it was more than just that it was his own tongue exploring his mouth, and his own hands pressing against his hips so he couldn't get any leverage to stand away from the tree. Something about the kiss itself; a taste it lacked. Something he didn't know he expected but couldn't quite find.
But it didn't take long for Ticky to give up looking for whatever it was and accept the eventualitis just as he always did; he was enjoying it, and he hated to decline on anything he enjoyed. So he slid his gloved hands into the white side's hair, dragging the unwashed curls out of their faces and giving him something to pull at while he ran his tongue against his own, bruised his lips together, and put some teeth into it. It wasn't so much a fight this way as his own sort of compliance, and the white half of him hummed satisfaction in the back of his throat the way Ticky knew he would, and took and returned everything with a controlled confidence his own black nature never quite managed.
There was a familiar warm taste of iron mixed in their mouths, now, along with the bitterness of cigarettes. He wasn't sure which of them was bleeding, but its addition woke the part of his mind where the Noah rested. The hands in his white side's hair tightened and dragged them apart by a half an inch or so, enough to disengage their tongues and let Ticky suck the remaining warm liquid off both their lips. It wasn't that he cared for the flavor, exactly. But the same part of him that approved of bodies posed like lifeless dolls and the feel Innocence shuddering to dust between his fingers also approved of taking the blood that was offered to him. Or at least they all felt similar enough that Ticky couldn't be quite sure if that was the Noah's influence on him or just what he had become. Not that it mattered; Pleasure was Pleasure, after all.
Ticky's eyes slid half closed with a limp grin, and despite his suddenly lax motions he felt so much more aware as his white half propped him up back against the tree and slid a tongue down his neck, bit with white teeth at dark flesh. Looking up, unfocused into the branches above, Ticky twisted his fingers idly though his other half's hair. The stubble scratching over his collarbone was strangely appealing.
As his white half began slipping open the buttons of Ticky's shirt, he realized the camp's cure had obviously failed them. Which was just as well, really. It would have been disappointing to have to finish this alone.