Maybe you can con him into sleeping where you'd walk He'd wake you up as soon as you tripped over him I bet He seems like he'd want the chance to troll you either way
[Natsume has a fake ID held tightly in one hand, squeezing the flimsy card so tightly that the edges are cutting into his palm. He isn't sure why he needs one of these, seeing as he doesn't plan to let any needles anywhere near him, thank you very much. This is completely for Nishimura's benefit -- he's the one who'd gotten tipsy on cheap wine coolers stolen from his parent's liquor cabinet and whined about how much he wants a cool piercing, how much girls dig guys with piercings, how just his lobes aren't enough and he needs something that'll really catch the attention of the ladies. Kitamoto hadn't helped, had dared Nishimura to make an appointment at a local parlor, had promised both himself and Natsume as moral support and -- well.
You didn't have to be eighteen for your lobes to get pierced, but Nishimura had asked for a tongue ring of all things (even if he was whining even more now about how scared he was), hence the fake ID. Natsume squeezes the card even tighter, stands a bit taller and squares his shoulders. He's not nervous. He isn't concerned about being somewhere he shouldn't. He's made of sterner stuff than that. Besides, they haven't even carded him -- maybe moral support didn't need to be of age?
Standing a bit back from his friends, Natsume lets his gaze wander over the parlor -- dim, warm, a little smoky, not quite seedy but definitely something approaching that. Most of the artists are hunched over, needles buzzing away noisily as they outline roses or naked ladies or dragons onto people's arms and backs and stomachs and sides. Natsume hasn't ever met anyone with a tattoo, and he knows he's staring, but he can't stop himself. It's...beautiful. It's art, even the more simple, straightforward designs. He's so preoccupied in watching someone ink a swirling creature with too many teeth onto a bicep that it takes him a good couple minutes to actually look at the artist.
And then he does. And everything stops. Because the other artists are older, grizzled, covered in tattoos faded with age. But not this one. He's young, broad-shouldered and muscular, with intent dark eyes and the sharpest jawline Natsume has ever seen. His arms are covered in tattoos, all in black, shapes and forms that seem to swirl when Natsume tries to puzzle them out. And there's metal in his ears, rings and spikes in the lobes and bars through the top. He's slowly gliding his needle over the customer's arm, effortlessly, like he's painting. He doesn't even seem to blink.
...also he has pigtails. Which is so incongruous and so cute and so baffling that Natsume actually laughs a little, soft and wondering. Pigtails. A tattoo artist with pigtails and enough piercings that it makes Natsume wonder what else he has pierced...]
(The thing about being an older brother was that he knew how young people worked. He knew all about peer pressure. His sweet Kechizu was in middle school and suffered merciless bullying (granted it had stopped after Choso had started to drop him off at school...) and he knew that sometimes Kechizu had been pressured into altering his appearance too. He knew what kids with fake IDs looked like.
It didn't really bother him, truthfully. Not much really did. His morals were a bit shaky at best, though most people considered him to be a good guy. He wasn't one of those creeps. Though most people in Japan steered clear of him. He was covered in tattoos and body modifications. His brow pierced, tongue, nose, ears - the works. And more down south that would make any prudent's toes curl
It definitely wasn't one of the nicer joints one could go to. There was a reason teens knew they could get away with fake IDs here. Choso simply didn't give a shit and neither did anyone else he worked with. They all put out sterile, good work. They just also didn't care if little spitfire yakuza-to-bes strolled in. It was how he got his own tattoo.
Now he was covered in an intricate full-body demon piece. Beautiful. Sharp in lines. He's focused in his work, unwavering, unblinking, sweeping some peppering shading along the edge of a yokai's face.
When he hears that puff of laughter, he tips his head up, stalling in his work delicately, so delicately, and he gazes over to who laughed in the first place.
And...ah...
He sits up a bit, tipping his head from side to side to crack his neck and roll his shoulders. His eyes drop down over Natsume, taking in every inch of that blatantly unmarked, new-blood body. He was young and absolutely shouldn't be in a place like this. He was even clutching his ID like it was the only defense he had in the world. His eyes cut briefly to his friend, but then he's looking back to blondie, a slow smile growing at the edge of his mouth.)
Are you a virgin? (There's the tiniest bit of a tease in his voice when he asks, but there's something fundamentally gentle about Choso that makes it evident that he isn't making fun of him either.)
The artist is moving, slow and methodical, rolling his shoulders, and Natsume watches like he's in a trance as the muscles in the older man's neck ripple, bringing his intricate, hypnotic tattoo to life. It shivers, moves, something dangerous and forbidden, a creature from a world that nice boys have no idea exists. Natsume should look away, should avert his eyes, should stop his mind immediately from going to all manner of delicious, wicked places.
He doesn't. He watches the artist lift the needle he's holding, dark ink bright at the tip, watches his dark eyes travel up and down Natsume so intently that it's like a physical touch. The teenager's mouth is completely dry, and he knows he's blushing to the tips of his ears, but he can't stop staring. He's never seen someone move like that, unhurried and absolutely calm, but undeniably powerful. It's nothing like the overeager, performance behavior of every other boy he knows -- including Nishimura, who's settling into a seat nearby, moaning about how nervous he is.
Natsume isn't listening. The artist is asking him a question -- that question, and he's answering it unconsciously in the way his breath catches and his eyes flicker away for a moment.] E-Excuse me? [He manages finally, unable to keep from staring for more than a moment.] That's -- a very p-personal question, sir.
[The last word slips out without Natsume being really aware of it, and embarrassment makes his toes curl inside his shoes, even as he imagines saying it again -- yes sir, no sir, oh god please sir--]
Choso wonders idly if it's the first time anyone has looked at him like that before. His brothers insisted girls looked at him all the time like that, but he had never really noticed.
This time he notices. It's impossible not to. The way color fills his cheeks and up to his ears. Choso slides his tongue out briefly, a glimmer of silver at the tip, and then it's back inside of his mouth where it belongs. The stammering and the response has Choso grinning in earnest, offering a soft, breathy laugh himself to counter the laugh Natsume had given him earlier. His eyes travel down to the piece he was working on and he wipes off some excess blood with a paper towel.)
I meant for getting a piercing.
(His mouth quirks up even further at the corner and he spares Natsume another look, his eyes glimmering with restrained laughter.
Sir.
So polite. He was so polite in such a place that never cared for manners of any kind and it was so, so sweet. This kid didn't belong here in the slightest. Another once-over and he drags his eyes reluctantly back to the guy he was working on.)
If you wait a while after your friend there gets popped, I can do you after.
(Choso, stop being so cheeky with how you're wording all of this!)
[Honestly, Natsume isn’t sure himself if he's ever looked at anyone like this. He's had crushes before -- fleeting, soft things, gentle thrills of curiosity and warmth that fill his stomach with butterflies. He's thought about twining his fingers together with the nice boy in his class, daydreamed about hands cradling his face, lips pressed to his.
This is different. This is an immediate, magnetic draw, this floods Natsume's whole body with heat, prompts him to absently tongue at his lower lip in an echo of the artist's. He catches sight of that bit of silver in the man’s tongue, and the resulting thrill is enough to make his knees weak.
Silly. Stupid. This tattoo artist has no time for starry-eyed boys with forbidden daydreams. It's enough that he's even indulging Natsume in conversation. That'll be enough. He can think about that flash of silver later, alone, and let it be enough.
The explanation makes a sort of embarrassing sense, and Natsume nods, still red-faced.] Oh, I see. I-I didn't know it was called that. You -- might have a bit of a wait.
[This is said with a brief eyeroll towards Nishimura, who's now babbling about how earlobes are perfectly fine, to a snickering Kitamoto and an exasperated piercer.] Do you...also do the piercings? Not just the tattoos?
[Softer, earnestly:] You do beautiful work. The yokai almost looks alive.
(Choso wasn't sure if he had ever really had a proper crush before. He had noticed the occasional beautiful young man. He remembered being entranced by his choir teacher growing up. This boy had that same elegance, that same ethereal quality.
Maybe he had all of the time in the world for starry-eyed boys gripping a fake ID like it's his only lifeline.)
Sometimes we call it that. (He begins to tattoo again, methodical and careful, just finishing off the edges.) But for you, it seemed especially relevant.
(Another look, a wider grin, and then he's focused back on his tattoo.)
I mostly do tattoos, but I know how to do piercings as well.
(Annnd...There. He wipes the tattoo down again and proceeds to let the client check it out. Even though the client is happy, always a good thing, he somehow winds up caring more about the boy's approval. After a soft thank you to his client, he begins to wrap the tattoo with steady hands.)
Thank you. (For the compliment. The client pays Choso and heads out. Which brings Choso to his feet and, ah, yes. He towers over the boy too. Something else that has him smiling.)
I do appreciate beautiful things. (The "like you" goes without saying.)
[Logically, Natsume knows he's being teased, but it doesn't grate on his nerves or make him angry. If anything it feels -- nice. Like the artist is paying him genuine attention, not dismissing him like he might a little kid. There's a touch of flirting laced with the teasing, and Natsume glances up with soft, warm golden eyes as the man finishes his work.]
Oh? Why's that? [He knows why. He also knows this is silly, it can't possibly go anywhere. This man probably has countless starry-eyed people throwing themselves at him. What would a scrawny, nervous kid have to offer?
The movement of the cloth wiping the blood and excess ink draws Natsume's gaze back to the tattoo, and genuine awe fills his expression. He hadn't been exaggerating -- it was beautiful, bright and vivid and gorgeously detailed. He's almost sad to see it covered up.] Are you as good a piercer as you are an artist?
[And then the man is standing and Natsume is looking up and up, and he normally hates feeling delicate or small, but this is different. The artist has black gloves on, a softly curious expression, metal glinting in his brow and ears and tongue. Natsume unconsciously licks his lower lip again, tongue lingering there before he asks:] If you are, I don't think I'd be a bit nervous. Do you -- have a specialty? For piercings?
(When Natsume asks why, Choso can hardly keep his smile from widening. He looks up again at Natsume, his gaze warming, and he raises a brow.)
You know why.
(He did have quite a few star-struck clients, it is true, but Choso was actually painfully oblivious to most of them. It was rare that anyone ever caught his eye. Actually, he wasn't sure if anyone ever really had before the way this boy has.
Maybe it was some part of him wanting to keep this kid safe from the world around him. Maybe it was that blonde hair or those sharp, golden eyes. The way that he was so effortlessly expressive. He thinks his brother would find Natsume cute too.)
I like to think so. (There's a joke about penetration somewhere in there, but Choso, god bless his sweet soul, would never.)
A specialty? You mean a place I prefer piercing...or...?
( Jason is keenly aware of the fact that most things he does wouldn't exactly get Bruce's approval. It'd be faster for everyone if he just made a list of all the things Bruce would approval of, really. But all Jason knows is if Bruce ever found out about this in particular? He'd be done. Absolutely fucking done.
So Bruce can't find out about this.
It's why Jason chooses the one safehouse just outside Gotham to make his temporary home with Natsume. He's done all the necessary prep work - stocked the cabinets and fridge with Natume's favorite foods and things that are at least somewhat healthy to feed him. There's more first aid supplies, medicines for common illnesses like colds, movies and books that he thinks Natsume will like. He's even changed the sheets to match the blond's own. It's as close to perfect as he's going to get for now. But when he moves them into their permanent place, that'll be perfect, Jason muses.
For now, he has Natsume tied to one of his chairs. Gagged. He's sleeping off the effects of the drug he's been given, and Jason is just waiting, now. He paces quietly around the room, red helmet neatly on the table nearby, the brown jacket that smells of gunpowder and faintly of blood spread carefully over Natsume's torso. And Jason, for his part, is bare chested and without his boots, walking around in a pair of jeans that look like they've seen better days as he sips at the brown liquid in the glass in his hand. )
[This isn't even the first time Natsume's been kidnapped, is the hilarious thing. He has a tendency for getting himself into trouble, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, a cross between curiosity and plain stubbornness never letting him back off -- even when it'd probably be better, smarter. Thus far, though, he's never caught the attention of someone he can't outsmart, never gotten into a situation he can't wiggle out of.
This time is different. This time Natsume is only barely conscious and he already knows he's in over his head. The leather across his chest smells like blood, and the shirtless man pacing the floor is easily twice his size and could snap him like a twig. There's confused, hazy defiance in the young man's expression as he struggles to wakefulness, but there's also genuine fear.
Hands curling against the arm of the chair, he stares for a moment with intent, bright eyes, before thumping one foot against the ground to get his captor's attention. If he's going to be tortured or murdered or something, he doesn't want to sit around and suffer through the sick anticipation of it.]
( The thump of that foot draws Jason's attention quickly. As he turns to face Natsume, he downs the last of the contents of his glass before setting it quietly on the table near his helmet. He takes his time approaching, and fully facing the other, Natsume can surely see the pistol at his hip.
But Jason has no intention of being violent if he doesn't have to be. He didn't bring Natsume here to hurt him.
Once he's close enough, he reaches out, touches the other's lips around the gag in his mouth. ) If you scream, I'm putting this back. You understand? ( He taps Natsume's lip expectantly for an answer. )
[Natsume doesn't like being bossed around, but he also isn't stupid. The things he gets mixed up in are usually of a spiritual nature -- exorcist and demon's and the like -- which are plenty dangerous in their own way.
But this man has a gun, and a strange untamed wildness in his movements, and Natsume has to be even more careful. So he nods slowly, not making any sudden movements, not wanting to aggravate the stranger.
Once the gag is removed, Natsume obeys, he doesn't scream or yell or even speak right away. He swallows a couple times, works his jaw back and forth, watches the man warily.
Then:] What do you want? [If it's money, he's out of luck -- none of Natsume's family would pay anything for him.]
( Jason watches Natsume carefully as he removes the gag, waiting to see the first sign that the blond is going to act out. But when all that comes is the movement of that jaw, a few swallows, he moves his hand away.
He steps away long enough to grab a nearby chair, dragging it closer and turning it so the back is facing Natsume. He straddles the chair, folding his arms on the back of the chair with an arched brow. )
Just to spend some time together. ( There's nothing in his expression that says he's joking or any hint of danger. Just a curious watchfulness. )
[Natsume watches each movement warily, like a prickly cat that's been backed into a corner. His eyes are slightly narrowed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the man is -- calm. He seems calm. That's usually a bad sign, because appearances are deceiving. If he looks calm, he probably isn't, at all.
The comment bewilders Natsume, though, making him glance back up from where he'd been intently frowning at the way the stranger is sitting in the chair. It's very casual. Who is he trying to impress?]
What? Drink? I'm tied up. How am I going to drink? [It's still said in a low, even voice, but the indignation is evident.] You could untie me first.
( The way Natsume watches him is met with a soft, short laugh, and Jason seems perfectly content to sit and watch the blond. He has nothing to prove here - he doesn't have to worry about Natsume finding something to dislike about him and leaving if he's tied to that chair. )
We'll make it work.
( He stands easily, sliding away from the chair to grab a bottle of water. His motions are clear and broadcasted, letting Natsume see everything from the way he cracks the cap on the water bottle to the long drink of it he takes as he walks over to the blond. His way of saying there's nothing in the water.
Reaching out with one hand, he rests it at the back of Natsume's neck. There's a flex of his fingers, a soft bit of pressure to encourage him to tip his head back. ) Here. Take it slow. ( He tips the bottle against Natsume's lips for him to drink. )
[Natsume momentarily considers resisting, pressing his lips together and refusing to drink. But there's a tight, dry feeling in his throat whenever he swallows, reminding him how thirsty he actually is. So, even though he narrows his eyes at Jason for a moment, he slowly tilts his head back and parts his lips for the water. He's in no real position to fight back, after all.
And once he swallows a bit of the water, his thirst flares up with a vengeance, prompting Natsume to lean forward and gulp as quick as he can, heedless of the drips sliding down the length of his throat. He even curls his tongue around the mouth of the bottle, eyes half-closing with relief.
It's only when the bottle's mostly gone that Natsume realizes basically sucking on the bottle probably isn't very dignified. He leans back, cheeks reddening, avoiding Jason's gaze.] Thanks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for @zgok
Date: 2022-06-06 12:37 am (UTC)Maybe I should lock the door somehow? Or post a guard or something?
no subject
Date: 2022-06-06 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-06-07 01:55 am (UTC)I might get a concussion, though. I'd ask Sensei but he's already laughing about the whole thing, so he's not going to be any help.
no subject
Date: 2022-06-07 03:43 am (UTC)He'd wake you up as soon as you tripped over him I bet
He seems like he'd want the chance to troll you either way
no subject
Date: 2022-06-07 02:20 pm (UTC)You could sleep over.
If you felt like it.
Maybe.
Just a thought.
no subject
Date: 2022-06-07 03:13 pm (UTC)I mean I have friends like that even without being tapped into that side
I mean I could
Would you like that?
Maybe you could stay here too.
no subject
Date: 2022-06-08 12:12 am (UTC)Well.
Yes.
I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want to.
Maybe yours is better. Less questions.
Not that we'd
do anything worth questioning!
no subject
Date: 2022-06-08 04:50 am (UTC)Less chance of actually wandering out and hurting yourself that way right?
Since you can't just automatically go
I have never done anything questionable in my life /s
no subject
Date: 2022-06-09 01:43 am (UTC)Don't you "/s" at me, I know when you're being "/s", you don't need to indicate it.
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From:for @wombro
Date: 2022-08-05 01:53 am (UTC)You didn't have to be eighteen for your lobes to get pierced, but Nishimura had asked for a tongue ring of all things (even if he was whining even more now about how scared he was), hence the fake ID. Natsume squeezes the card even tighter, stands a bit taller and squares his shoulders. He's not nervous. He isn't concerned about being somewhere he shouldn't. He's made of sterner stuff than that. Besides, they haven't even carded him -- maybe moral support didn't need to be of age?
Standing a bit back from his friends, Natsume lets his gaze wander over the parlor -- dim, warm, a little smoky, not quite seedy but definitely something approaching that. Most of the artists are hunched over, needles buzzing away noisily as they outline roses or naked ladies or dragons onto people's arms and backs and stomachs and sides. Natsume hasn't ever met anyone with a tattoo, and he knows he's staring, but he can't stop himself. It's...beautiful. It's art, even the more simple, straightforward designs. He's so preoccupied in watching someone ink a swirling creature with too many teeth onto a bicep that it takes him a good couple minutes to actually look at the artist.
And then he does. And everything stops. Because the other artists are older, grizzled, covered in tattoos faded with age. But not this one. He's young, broad-shouldered and muscular, with intent dark eyes and the sharpest jawline Natsume has ever seen. His arms are covered in tattoos, all in black, shapes and forms that seem to swirl when Natsume tries to puzzle them out. And there's metal in his ears, rings and spikes in the lobes and bars through the top. He's slowly gliding his needle over the customer's arm, effortlessly, like he's painting. He doesn't even seem to blink.
...also he has pigtails. Which is so incongruous and so cute and so baffling that Natsume actually laughs a little, soft and wondering. Pigtails. A tattoo artist with pigtails and enough piercings that it makes Natsume wonder what else he has pierced...]
I AM FINALLY HERE for the Thirst
Date: 2022-08-12 04:09 am (UTC)It didn't really bother him, truthfully. Not much really did. His morals were a bit shaky at best, though most people considered him to be a good guy. He wasn't one of those creeps. Though most people in Japan steered clear of him. He was covered in tattoos and body modifications. His brow pierced, tongue, nose, ears - the works. And more down south that would make any prudent's toes curl
It definitely wasn't one of the nicer joints one could go to. There was a reason teens knew they could get away with fake IDs here. Choso simply didn't give a shit and neither did anyone else he worked with. They all put out sterile, good work. They just also didn't care if little spitfire yakuza-to-bes strolled in. It was how he got his own tattoo.
Now he was covered in an intricate full-body demon piece. Beautiful. Sharp in lines. He's focused in his work, unwavering, unblinking, sweeping some peppering shading along the edge of a yokai's face.
When he hears that puff of laughter, he tips his head up, stalling in his work delicately, so delicately, and he gazes over to who laughed in the first place.
And...ah...
He sits up a bit, tipping his head from side to side to crack his neck and roll his shoulders. His eyes drop down over Natsume, taking in every inch of that blatantly unmarked, new-blood body. He was young and absolutely shouldn't be in a place like this. He was even clutching his ID like it was the only defense he had in the world. His eyes cut briefly to his friend, but then he's looking back to blondie, a slow smile growing at the edge of his mouth.)
Are you a virgin? (There's the tiniest bit of a tease in his voice when he asks, but there's something fundamentally gentle about Choso that makes it evident that he isn't making fun of him either.)
/inhales this
Date: 2022-08-12 05:40 am (UTC)The artist is moving, slow and methodical, rolling his shoulders, and Natsume watches like he's in a trance as the muscles in the older man's neck ripple, bringing his intricate, hypnotic tattoo to life. It shivers, moves, something dangerous and forbidden, a creature from a world that nice boys have no idea exists. Natsume should look away, should avert his eyes, should stop his mind immediately from going to all manner of delicious, wicked places.
He doesn't. He watches the artist lift the needle he's holding, dark ink bright at the tip, watches his dark eyes travel up and down Natsume so intently that it's like a physical touch. The teenager's mouth is completely dry, and he knows he's blushing to the tips of his ears, but he can't stop staring. He's never seen someone move like that, unhurried and absolutely calm, but undeniably powerful. It's nothing like the overeager, performance behavior of every other boy he knows -- including Nishimura, who's settling into a seat nearby, moaning about how nervous he is.
Natsume isn't listening. The artist is asking him a question -- that question, and he's answering it unconsciously in the way his breath catches and his eyes flicker away for a moment.] E-Excuse me? [He manages finally, unable to keep from staring for more than a moment.] That's -- a very p-personal question, sir.
[The last word slips out without Natsume being really aware of it, and embarrassment makes his toes curl inside his shoes, even as he imagines saying it again -- yes sir, no sir, oh god please sir--]
the cockdrunk BLUSH
Date: 2022-08-12 06:02 am (UTC)Choso wonders idly if it's the first time anyone has looked at him like that before. His brothers insisted girls looked at him all the time like that, but he had never really noticed.
This time he notices. It's impossible not to. The way color fills his cheeks and up to his ears. Choso slides his tongue out briefly, a glimmer of silver at the tip, and then it's back inside of his mouth where it belongs. The stammering and the response has Choso grinning in earnest, offering a soft, breathy laugh himself to counter the laugh Natsume had given him earlier. His eyes travel down to the piece he was working on and he wipes off some excess blood with a paper towel.)
I meant for getting a piercing.
(His mouth quirks up even further at the corner and he spares Natsume another look, his eyes glimmering with restrained laughter.
Sir.
So polite. He was so polite in such a place that never cared for manners of any kind and it was so, so sweet. This kid didn't belong here in the slightest. Another once-over and he drags his eyes reluctantly back to the guy he was working on.)
If you wait a while after your friend there gets popped, I can do you after.
(Choso, stop being so cheeky with how you're wording all of this!)
down 2 get down right off the BAT
Date: 2022-08-12 01:40 pm (UTC)This is different. This is an immediate, magnetic draw, this floods Natsume's whole body with heat, prompts him to absently tongue at his lower lip in an echo of the artist's. He catches sight of that bit of silver in the man’s tongue, and the resulting thrill is enough to make his knees weak.
Silly. Stupid. This tattoo artist has no time for starry-eyed boys with forbidden daydreams. It's enough that he's even indulging Natsume in conversation. That'll be enough. He can think about that flash of silver later, alone, and let it be enough.
The explanation makes a sort of embarrassing sense, and Natsume nods, still red-faced.] Oh, I see. I-I didn't know it was called that. You -- might have a bit of a wait.
[This is said with a brief eyeroll towards Nishimura, who's now babbling about how earlobes are perfectly fine, to a snickering Kitamoto and an exasperated piercer.] Do you...also do the piercings? Not just the tattoos?
[Softer, earnestly:] You do beautiful work. The yokai almost looks alive.
just immediately "i'll suck ur dick in the back room"
Date: 2022-08-13 03:07 am (UTC)Maybe he had all of the time in the world for starry-eyed boys gripping a fake ID like it's his only lifeline.)
Sometimes we call it that. (He begins to tattoo again, methodical and careful, just finishing off the edges.) But for you, it seemed especially relevant.
(Another look, a wider grin, and then he's focused back on his tattoo.)
I mostly do tattoos, but I know how to do piercings as well.
(Annnd...There. He wipes the tattoo down again and proceeds to let the client check it out. Even though the client is happy, always a good thing, he somehow winds up caring more about the boy's approval. After a soft thank you to his client, he begins to wrap the tattoo with steady hands.)
Thank you. (For the compliment. The client pays Choso and heads out. Which brings Choso to his feet and, ah, yes. He towers over the boy too. Something else that has him smiling.)
I do appreciate beautiful things. (The "like you" goes without saying.)
"I'm not super attached to my friends or my pants, I'll lose them both for you"
Date: 2022-08-13 03:37 am (UTC)Oh? Why's that? [He knows why. He also knows this is silly, it can't possibly go anywhere. This man probably has countless starry-eyed people throwing themselves at him. What would a scrawny, nervous kid have to offer?
The movement of the cloth wiping the blood and excess ink draws Natsume's gaze back to the tattoo, and genuine awe fills his expression. He hadn't been exaggerating -- it was beautiful, bright and vivid and gorgeously detailed. He's almost sad to see it covered up.] Are you as good a piercer as you are an artist?
[And then the man is standing and Natsume is looking up and up, and he normally hates feeling delicate or small, but this is different. The artist has black gloves on, a softly curious expression, metal glinting in his brow and ears and tongue. Natsume unconsciously licks his lower lip again, tongue lingering there before he asks:] If you are, I don't think I'd be a bit nervous. Do you -- have a specialty? For piercings?
a reasonable sacrifice any sane person would make lbr
Date: 2022-08-27 04:09 am (UTC)You know why.
(He did have quite a few star-struck clients, it is true, but Choso was actually painfully oblivious to most of them. It was rare that anyone ever caught his eye. Actually, he wasn't sure if anyone ever really had before the way this boy has.
Maybe it was some part of him wanting to keep this kid safe from the world around him. Maybe it was that blonde hair or those sharp, golden eyes. The way that he was so effortlessly expressive. He thinks his brother would find Natsume cute too.)
I like to think so. (There's a joke about penetration somewhere in there, but Choso, god bless his sweet soul, would never.)
A specialty? You mean a place I prefer piercing...or...?
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From:kidnapping + stockholm things
Date: 2022-09-05 12:07 am (UTC)So Bruce can't find out about this.
It's why Jason chooses the one safehouse just outside Gotham to make his temporary home with Natsume. He's done all the necessary prep work - stocked the cabinets and fridge with Natume's favorite foods and things that are at least somewhat healthy to feed him. There's more first aid supplies, medicines for common illnesses like colds, movies and books that he thinks Natsume will like. He's even changed the sheets to match the blond's own. It's as close to perfect as he's going to get for now. But when he moves them into their permanent place, that'll be perfect, Jason muses.
For now, he has Natsume tied to one of his chairs. Gagged. He's sleeping off the effects of the drug he's been given, and Jason is just waiting, now. He paces quietly around the room, red helmet neatly on the table nearby, the brown jacket that smells of gunpowder and faintly of blood spread carefully over Natsume's torso. And Jason, for his part, is bare chested and without his boots, walking around in a pair of jeans that look like they've seen better days as he sips at the brown liquid in the glass in his hand. )
delicious and fantastic
Date: 2022-09-05 01:18 am (UTC)This time is different. This time Natsume is only barely conscious and he already knows he's in over his head. The leather across his chest smells like blood, and the shirtless man pacing the floor is easily twice his size and could snap him like a twig. There's confused, hazy defiance in the young man's expression as he struggles to wakefulness, but there's also genuine fear.
Hands curling against the arm of the chair, he stares for a moment with intent, bright eyes, before thumping one foot against the ground to get his captor's attention. If he's going to be tortured or murdered or something, he doesn't want to sit around and suffer through the sick anticipation of it.]
rude dw didn't give me a notif
Date: 2022-10-16 11:23 pm (UTC)But Jason has no intention of being violent if he doesn't have to be. He didn't bring Natsume here to hurt him.
Once he's close enough, he reaches out, touches the other's lips around the gag in his mouth. ) If you scream, I'm putting this back. You understand? ( He taps Natsume's lip expectantly for an answer. )
wow rude and uncalled for DW!!
Date: 2022-10-17 05:21 am (UTC)But this man has a gun, and a strange untamed wildness in his movements, and Natsume has to be even more careful. So he nods slowly, not making any sudden movements, not wanting to aggravate the stranger.
Once the gag is removed, Natsume obeys, he doesn't scream or yell or even speak right away. He swallows a couple times, works his jaw back and forth, watches the man warily.
Then:] What do you want? [If it's money, he's out of luck -- none of Natsume's family would pay anything for him.]
no subject
Date: 2023-01-16 09:00 pm (UTC)He steps away long enough to grab a nearby chair, dragging it closer and turning it so the back is facing Natsume. He straddles the chair, folding his arms on the back of the chair with an arched brow. )
Just to spend some time together. ( There's nothing in his expression that says he's joking or any hint of danger. Just a curious watchfulness. )
You want something to drink?
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Date: 2023-01-18 01:54 am (UTC)The comment bewilders Natsume, though, making him glance back up from where he'd been intently frowning at the way the stranger is sitting in the chair. It's very casual. Who is he trying to impress?]
What? Drink? I'm tied up. How am I going to drink? [It's still said in a low, even voice, but the indignation is evident.] You could untie me first.
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Date: 2023-02-02 09:14 pm (UTC)We'll make it work.
( He stands easily, sliding away from the chair to grab a bottle of water. His motions are clear and broadcasted, letting Natsume see everything from the way he cracks the cap on the water bottle to the long drink of it he takes as he walks over to the blond. His way of saying there's nothing in the water.
Reaching out with one hand, he rests it at the back of Natsume's neck. There's a flex of his fingers, a soft bit of pressure to encourage him to tip his head back. ) Here. Take it slow. ( He tips the bottle against Natsume's lips for him to drink. )
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Date: 2023-02-04 03:25 am (UTC)And once he swallows a bit of the water, his thirst flares up with a vengeance, prompting Natsume to lean forward and gulp as quick as he can, heedless of the drips sliding down the length of his throat. He even curls his tongue around the mouth of the bottle, eyes half-closing with relief.
It's only when the bottle's mostly gone that Natsume realizes basically sucking on the bottle probably isn't very dignified. He leans back, cheeks reddening, avoiding Jason's gaze.] Thanks.
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