ROKUROU ᴍᴀʟᴇᴠᴏʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴋ RANGETSU (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
swordhardy) wrote2021-03-18 09:35 pm
swordhardy) wrote2021-03-18 09:35 pmEntry tags:
NOCT OVERFLOW
OVERFLOW & EVENTS
swordhardy) wrote2021-03-18 09:35 pm
no subject
[ Eyes narrowing with suspicion, he glances down to the dick drawn on his stomach and then sighs again. Spit? Really? Sounds fake......
But he still swipes the fabric against his tongue and scrubs it over the spot, crease between his brows deepening as it goes from somewhat dedicated to furiously rubbing. Hard enough that it leaves his skin chaffed and pink, dick even more obvious with the color contrast of neon green. It isn't even smudged, still proudly a cartoon dick. ]
So that was bullshit.
[ He already has a dick painted on him, give him a break!! ]
no subject
Someone else's spit.
[To illustrate, he licks his thumb and runs it roughly across the uh, head of the cartoon dick. So now it looks somewhat less like a cartoon dick (emphasis on somewhat), and more just like a rectangle with two circles at the bottom. Which is the same thing.
Noiz raises an eyebrow.]
See?
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[ Rokurou watches the man's thumb as it rubs across his skin, a little dumbfounded, unable to really process how that works. But it's true enough: the paint finally smudges, dick still a dick but now a smudged dick. Easy as that. ]
Oh. [ he flushes a bit and then huffs, rubbing his neck, ] You could've said that before.
[ Biting the inside of his cheek, the swordsman glances up again, giving the stranger new appraisal before, ]
Alright, so help me. I can't do it myself. I'll owe you one.
no subject
(Note: he is not the least bit intimidating.)]
Don't care about the paint.
[He doesn't care if the other is embarassed, either. He sticks his thumb in his mouth and covers it in more spit than before, and then drags his thumb across the doodle again. At least more paint comes off this time.]
So what're you gonna give me.
[Said flat, almost deadpan. He still could be joking depending on how Rokurou reacts to that question.]
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I don't know yet. [ something he proclaims with far too much idiot's confidence, ] But I always pay my debts.
[ So there's that. And now that it's obvious that this guy's spit is doing the trick, Rokurou's not about to let him get away without finishing the job. Saliva sheens across his abdomen, a single drip trickling between the contour of his muscles—physical sensation especially sharp, the feeling has his eyebrow twitching in quick reaction.
A few more good wipes should do the job and wipe the cartoon dick out of existence. Encouraging, Rokurou leans into the touch of the stranger's thumb, a roll of hips that has his shoulders pressing back against the wall. ]
Family motto and all.
no subject
[Noiz is a little skeptical, possibly, but he does keep up his end of their bargain that is still pretty poorly defined. It's not like it mattered much to him at that point, and he can't say the effect is totally bad once he finishes wiping it off and Rokurou's chest is.
Glistening. Like that.
Huh...
He ends up just grabbing Rokurou's forearm to pull him back toward the bar. He was almost of drinking age, after all, so maybe he could get this guy to get him a drink. Seemed kind of fair.]
Buy me a drink.
[To start, maybe. A drink was definitely less of an imposition.]
no subject
Distracted, he’s surprised when fingers wrap around his forearm to drag him toward the bar. He’s easily pulled into the crowd and toward clinking glasses and popping bottles, blinking back to attention. ]
Huh? Ah, yeah, alright. [ his hands hit the bar once they reach it, ] What do you want?
[ But before he can flag the bartender there are shots gliding down the bar, courtesy of someone very drunk and apparently pretty rich. Shots for everyone is the cheer; Rokurou shrugs, passing one of the small glasses to Noiz. ]
Hope you like lemon drops.
[ He’ll go ahead and shotgun his own, tongue peeking out between the crease of lips to sweep away sweet-bitter remains. ]
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To his credit, he doesn't spit it out. But he also appears a bit disconcerted by the flavor. Sweet, sour, and definitely still bitter... it was a little more complicated than what he'd been consuming for the last long while. Not that it took much to be more complex tasting than delivery pizza... clearly.]
Gonna have to come with something else, then.
[He eyes the empty shotglass.]
Since you didn't return the favor.
[...Since Rokurou hadn't paid for it. Noiz was being picky as fuck here, but he also always wanted to see how far he could string people along.]
no subject
[ Right after he's done looking amused at Noiz's reaction to the shot. On his end, he rather likes the contrast of sweet to bitter—a blend that sits well on his tongue. But since it doesn't seem to have hit the spot, maybe something simpler is better. ]
Did you want me to surprise you with it, too? I can pick one.
[ His taste is pretty great, if he doesn't say so himself. Which he will, actually, given the first opportunity to do so. Now that the cartoon dick is gone, he's in a really good mood (and the lemon drop already sinking to the pits of his belly doesn't hurt that one bit). ]
What's your taste? Sweet, sour, just plain strong?
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He settled for a bit of an eye roll. He was still buying Noiz a drink, after all. Even if it was in repayment for ... wiping some paint off with his finger. He didn't think about that part super hard, mostly because it didn't feel that weird to him.
Pretending that he liked something strong or sour probably wouldn't do him any favors, so—]
Sweet's fine.
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Decision made, he orders with the bartender who whips it up pretty quick. Once it's finished he hands it over to Noiz. Deep orange on the bottom to lighter orange ombre on top, garnished with cherries and mint. ]
A screwdriver. My debt is repaid.
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Is it?
[He takes a sip of the screwdriver— it's not bad. Definitely sweet. And he can't complain.
He takes another look at Rokurou's chest, and whatever paint is still left.]
Guess if you just wanna keep looking like that.
[Not like he can talk, he's pretty damn over-painted too.]
no subject
What? You sayin' I don't look good?
[ I am handsome no matter what I look like, sir. ]
Though I guess blue isn't really my color ...
[ And that's a large part of the neon, isn't it? Decisions, decisions. ]
no subject
[Noiz is very pointedly staring at his chest now. The way he's looking is almost... analytical? Like, maybe he thinks he looks good, maybe he doesn't, who knows? Maybe he's trying to calculate how much of the paint is actually blue.
He could be.]
You'd have to pay me back another way.
[He continues sipping on his drink while his eyes wander up to catch Rokurou's. He raises an eyebrow. Noiz is still willing to leave this to interpretation, honestly.]