For aim_forthesoul

[mongrelverine]

Daken was bored. So very, very bored. He's spent a restless few days sulking holed up after what he was mentally referring to as "The Ex Incident." He'd been completely unprepared to see Lester anytime soon, still figuring the government had him locked up in a dark hole somewhere. Humiliating as it was to admit, Bullseye had kicked his ass good and

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[mongrelverine]

Unseen by his (still ex?) boyfriend for the moment, Daken had to suppress a smirk. Lester never had been known for his people skills. Damn little mick, why the hell had he even tracked him down? Oh yeah, that whole bit where he couldn't get him off his mind.

Revving up the engine, he pulled out into traffic, swerving in and out, generally creating a ruckus as he cut off countless vehicles. Pulling up to the curb, he was practically on top of Lester's toes.

"Need a ride?" Now that was the way to do it. Smooth as butter and twice as hot.

[mongrelverine]

"That's not what you've said in the past." Daken smirked at the memory of the violent hate sex he'd had with Lester on more than one occasion. Most of the time he'd had to use handcuffs, rope, or something else to restrain his violent lover's hands.

[mongrelverine]

Daken looked less than pleased at the reminder of getting soundly beaten, smirk disappearing as fast as it had appeared. The engine hummed beneath his fingers as he kept balancing on top of the bike.

"C'mon. What's one ride going to hurt?" He leaned forward, using his pheromones to amp up Lester's conflicting feelings. "I'll even throw in a pint of Chunky Monkey."

[mongrelverine]

Swerving back into traffic with reckless abandonment, Daken turned his face so that Bullseye wouldn't see the triumphant smirk crossing his face again. Daken always got what he wanted and what he wanted right now was Bullseye. But the whole sitting perched on the back like a red hot poker was up his ass just wasn't doing it.

Stirring up his pheromones again, he sought to put the littlest bit of fear and uncertainty into Lester. Humans naturally turned to each other for comfort when scared, so Daken steered directly for the biggest pothole he could spy. The jolt wouldn't be too bad, just enough to give someone on edge a big start. An evil, manipulative plan, and all just so he could have Lester's arms around his waist.

[mongrelverine]

"Hey! No backseat driving!" Without turning his head, Daken jabbed Bullsesy forcefully in the ribs with one elbow. It was like training a puppy. A very surly, growly, psychopathic puppy.

"Now behave. Or I'll be forced to get nasty with you." Sure, Bullseye had won the last round, but in close quarters and on the back of a moving motorcycle, Daken felt much more confident in his own abilities.

With the bike back under his control, he made a sharp right turn down a side street. He had one destination in mind that he knew Lester wouldn't object to. A large one-story building stood in front of them. The neon sign glittered in garish bright pink and lime green. The silhouette of a nude girl with cat ears and a tail that wiggled back and forth was above the words "The Cat-Scratch Club." He finally turned to look back at Lester, one eyebrow cocked up, silently asking him his opinion.

[mongrelverine]

"C'mon, kiddo. Time to loosen up." Exactly how long Lester would be able to behave, even at a strip club, was all a matter of how quickly Daken would be able to get him drunk. He'd found it was the only tool he had at his disposal that could help control the wayward psychopath besides his medications.

The inside was predictably like all strip clubs: smelling like sweat, lust, and cheap perfume. To a feral's nose, it was anything but appetizing. But it was good enough for now. "Order whatever you like. It's on me." That included both drinks and girls.