[ it's not really a threat; there's no more traps around the workshop than usual. but he's still irritated by his own suggestion. the annoyance is trickling through. ]
[ david snorts at the message but he doesn't respond, even if a quick '😘' is tempting just because he knows it'd annoy evan. ]
[ the hardest part is getting across that deathtrap of a boundary, but being on the rest of the estate puts david significantly more at ease, he's been doing this part for years now. and lately he's become familiar with the traps to a new degree. not that david never steps in them anymore, but it's a comparative rarity. plus he's extra careful when he knows evan is about because it'd be fucking embarrassing. ]
[ he makes it to the mine, only closes traps when he's confident there's no other way around them, and when he gets to the door david sticks his head in first to see where evan is before he slips through and pushes the door shut behind himself. ]
Evenin'.
[ maybe? it's always dark here and time is fake anyway, it counts. ]
[ it bothers him that people can get familiar with his traps, and where he puts them, and how often he sets them. they shouldn't learn that. he shouldn't be giving himself away so easily.
but at the same time, there's leeway for the people who come down here for reasons that aren't constant harassment, theft, and attempted murder. that david, of all people, is earning that should be a bigger problem for him than it's become.
evan glances over from where he's dismantling a busted trap, the jaws bent out of place, the springs broken. the natural surge of irritation that comes when they meet is there, but it quiets. for the most part. ]
Is it? [ not that he knows time anymore. it's always night on the estate. ] This your time of day?
[ it never used to be his, but there's no more mines to trawl in the darkness. might as well make do with nighttime. ]
[ david shrugs off his backpack and sets it down on a workbench next to the one evan's working at — it rattles with the sound of glass knocking about as he does so, ignores it as he himself leans against the table and watches evan work. ]
Worst part of... [ he trails off, brows pinched when he catches himself. shakes his head like he's physically shaking off the memory of 5am practices in the rain and the cold. he never talks about his rugby days except in the vaguest terms so why was he so ready to share that without thinking? ]
[ mentally he redirects with a quiet snort and a shake of his head. ] Just not much of a morning person I guess. Yeah.
[ david cuts himself off, and evan doesn't question it. david's had the good grace to do so before, so it's only fair to return it ... for now. not that whatever he was going to say was probably relevant.
just something about nights. evenings. mornings. a piece of before. evan shrugs, and pulls a few fragments of a spring free from the mess in front of him. ]
Lucky you. No mornings here.
[ it's said as grimly as ever, with a little bit of an edge to it. no mornings. only nights, or in a few cases, bright burning midafternoons. sunset in one place. but never morning. never the break of day. there's probably a reason for that. ]
You brought somethin'.
[ he heard the glass clinking, and has a guess about what it is, but he's not going to jump to conclusions just yet. ]
[ he appreciates the grace, though david would be surprised if evan was interested in anything about his life before when, if anything, he's expressed mostly antipathy for all that. same reason david doesn't query that tone he takes talking about the lack of mornings, though it's not hard to guess evan was probably an early riser. got up and went to work at the crack of dawn. ]
[ and then evan mentions his bag and david glances at it thoughtfully. shrugs a shoulder. ] Pilfered a couple bottles while I was there. You want some?
[ it doesn't surprise david that he's not about that, but david's never been a particularly picky drinker himself. wine's never been his go to, but he's got no issue with it. especially not these days. ]
[ evan makes a dismissive noise and turns back to the trap. wine was always for fakes, he remembers. foreigners and people trying to put on airs. people who never did a hard day's work in their life. fitting for her, he thinks.
whether david opts to drink or not, he himself stays focused on the broken metal in front of him. he pulls at screws, snaps the metal, sometimes bends it - until a spring finally comes free, and this one's not so broken. it flies out and buries itself in his arm.
it's a painful thing, but nothing new, and nothing that bad. he reaches up, pulls it out, and tosses it in a box of other not-so-broken pieces nearby before going back to his work as if nothing happened. ]
[ david instinctively flinches when that screw buries itself in evan's flesh and he just... pulls it out. a sympathetic reaction he can't really help, but other than that he gives it no attention. if evan doesn't care then it's no big deal. ]
Too late to worry about that.
[ with all the other chaos about, he wonders if she'll even notice a few missing bottles of wine, but if he frets about that he'll probably end up worrying about a million little things that could point in any direction he doesn't want. ]
[ it's not a great suggestion, but he's not exactly here to help.
the broken trap ends up dismantled, partly torn apart by his own hands. anything that can't be salvaged goes in a box meant for scrap; the rest to be reused, like the screw. once he's done, he turns to david, watching him from behind the mask. ]
[ that... was the plan. the wine isn't for evan, it's for himself mostly, and the rest of camp, but david isn't going to correct him. ]
I can leave if you want me gone.
[ he shrugs. primarily he's just here to hide out a bit, let the clock tick down before he heads out. helps that for the most part he doesn't actually mind evan's company all that much. he doesn't pry, doesn't talk more than he needs to, lately he's not even that antagonistic. ]
[ but that's truthfully all that's on his mind. not that he'd be against anything else, he's certainly in good spirits with a lot of energy, but there's a handful of reasons he's not thinking about it. ]
[ the irritation's still there, and so is his annoyance over realizing that he's putting up with david, but they're smaller problems. small like springs in his arm. even if adriana isn't fooled, she'll be pissed off and have to deal with more problems, and since when has he had a problem with that?
he's got no interest in drinking, but that's not the only thing to do. ]
Wouldn't have told you she doesn't come here if I cared about that.
[ he picks up a nearby rag, already filthy with grease and blood and rust flakes, and wipes his hands off on it. ]
[ david tilts his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he tries to figure if he's gleaning evan's meaning right. he's not used to being rebuffed, so after being turned down a couple of times david just kind of assumed evan lost whatever middling interest he had. ]
[ (no, he doesn't see why things like "bringing up daddy issues" or "david you have a major gut wound" would be reason not to fuck.) ]
[ the smirk says that maybe david's got an idea of the suggestion, and maybe he's about to grab his bag and leave with a parting shot. evan opts for the former. there's no reason to come down here except to fight, steal, gloat, or ... well, get treated for fatal wounds, sometimes, but fucking is more common.
he sets down the rag and heads toward david. there's more light in the workshop than before with the forge-slash-furnace still lit from his previous work, but it's not much good to reveal any expression given he hasn't bothered to take off the mask. ]
Or you just gonna freeload 'til I get sick of you?
[ david's surprise when evan moves toward him is brief, he doesn't necessarily hide it well but it's a small thing, raised eyebrows before he catches himself. ]
Thinkin' about it.
[ he's joking, david would hope that if that's not obvious on its own, the way he reaches out once evan's close enough to grip the front of evan's waders and tug him in closer should say plenty. ]
[ he lets david pull him a little closer - if he wasn't interested, or didn't care to let david have that kind of leeway, it'd take a lot more than a tug to get him moving. ]
Then you gotta pay.
[ also mostly a joke. more an implication. now that they're close enough, he gets a hand on david, up at his neck to tilt his head back. all the bruises are long since gone, and not just because of time. there's more than a few downsides to the way this place heals.
but there's upsides, too. he presses his thumb over the pulse, feels the heartbeat, knows he can just leave more marks. more bruises. more anything. ]
[ david lets him tilt his head back, looks up at his mask with lidded eyes and a gently amused expression over this stupid conversation, lets out a quiet breath through his nose at the press of evan's thumb. ]
[ the excuse, the little story, isn't necessary. they could just go at it. he could have just walked over and started. david probably wouldn't have complained. it shouldn't matter. none of it should.
but it's there, anyway, and so's david. not pissed off. not running. not fighting. not anything but there. thoughts and impulses clash, but in the end - as usual - the impulses win out. he can think later, if he does at all.
evan shifts his grip a little, pushes david's head back a little more, and with his free hand reaches up to pull his mask up just enough that he can lean in and bite at that exposed throat. to leave another mark that'll fade into a bruise and then vanish. despite the slow approach, the lack of vitriol in anything they've done so far, it's an abrupt move, and fierce, and while it won't draw blood or hurt in a way that ruins things it's clearly pulling from something evan isn't really thinking about.
his hand drops from his mask to the front of david's shirt and bunches it into a fist, like he's ready to rip it right off him. ]
[ david absolutely wouldn't have complained, but sometimes it's just nice to be a little stupid about these things. it keeps his good mood rolling along, a pleased hum vibrating in his throat when evan pushes his head back a little more, encouraging him with a hand at the back of his neck when he leans in. ]
[ his free hand goes to find the buckle on the good side of evan's waders to undo it, matches evan's change in energy by dragging blunt nails down his chest, over a nipple, when it's free to him. shamelessly (and apparently unbothered by the way evan grabs his shirt, simply moving closer with the pull) cups and squeezes that pec in a rough grip with another low, pleased noise. ]
[ the way david responds - the way he reciprocates, hands on him, nails against skin that feels a little more than the rest of him and makes a spark run along his skin - removes the edge of restraint he'd been allowing. his grip in david's shirt tightens, then rips it - down, not off but open, not quite to the edge but enough to bare more skin that he goes for almost immediately. at the collarbone, where the bite will be more clearly felt.
his hand on david's neck moves up into his hair and grips it to keep david's head back. maybe the torn shirt won't be well received. he doesn't really care at this point. clothes, like people, tend to repair in this place.
the other hand, with the shirt now open, moves again - wraps his arm around david's waist and drags him in against evan, making sure he's not going anywhere and giving david about as much access to him as he's got. the closeness probably also gives david a hint of how fast this is getting him going. ]
[ it'll annoy him later, but right now all the torn shirt does is help rile david up. not that it ever really takes much to get him going, but something about the speed this has escalated at along with the intensity of it has david letting out another low, appreciative noise. one that shifts into a quiet moan at the bite to his collarbone, at the way evan pulls him in closer. ]
[ it's all extremely overwhelming for a second, just a moment before david catches himself, fingertips scraping and digging in where he's holding evan's neck. his other hand he slips from his chest down the back of evan's waders to grab his ass in a similarly rough grip, pulling evan with as he turns and backs up against the table he's been leaning against. ]
[ the brief attempt to direct them has evan resisting until he realizes where david intends to go, and then he follows, almost pushing david until they're fully against it. the fingers at his waist grip his belt, but there's no way to get it off like this. he takes the moment to grind against him instead, one knee between david's thighs, no space between them to even pretend this is something other than what it is.
three marks along his collarbone later and evan pulls back just enough to see what he's left, and only then does he finally give them both a little space. only enough to move his hands back to the front again, to rip the shirt open fully and pull at david's pants, belt or zipper or whatever's in the way.
the pull of his own clothes on the metal in his shoulder is easy to ignore, for the moment. right now he just wants david at least partly stripped. there's time to get his clothes off later. ]
[ something about the resistance and then being pushed almost makes david laugh, a quiet breath through his nose as he braces himself against the table to properly be able to take advantage of that leg between his, no encouragement needed to grind back against him. ]
[ times like this, david finds himself wishing evan would wear some normal clothes around here so he could get access to more of him without having to wait for him to unhook his stupid waders. he's seen the guy in trousers, but apparently that's no good out in the mines or whatever. ]
[ that complaint is pretty quickly knocked out of his head when evan finishes ripping his shirt open, the shock of it enough to pull his attention back to what evan's hands are doing along with the barest consideration that he doesn't want his pants to get the same treatment. moves his hands to take over undoing his belt and getting the button open on his jeans. takes the opportunity now evan's no longer at his collarbone to dip his head and return the favour; teeth at the underside of his jaw, down the side of his neck. ]
[ the bites against his neck spark something furious in the back of his mind, but he chokes it back and lets david do it. it's not the first time and the sensation is more than just a graze. it also occupies david. so does going to undo his own pants rather than letting evan at them and run the risk of tearing them.
they'd be harder to get in that state than a shirt, but he'd try, if only out of instinct and urge.
as david works at his pants evan gets his hands on david's chest. pushes the torn shirt down over his shoulders, feels him out, the same way he's done before but with a harder touch this time, like he might want to leave a bruise everywhere. when the belt's undone and the pants open he's immediately got his hands moving down david's back, under them, under the underwear, returning the squeeze from a moment ago and shifting his leg up just a little to make the grind harder. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ it's not really a threat; there's no more traps around the workshop than usual. but he's still irritated by his own suggestion. the annoyance is trickling through. ]
no subject
[ the hardest part is getting across that deathtrap of a boundary, but being on the rest of the estate puts david significantly more at ease, he's been doing this part for years now. and lately he's become familiar with the traps to a new degree. not that david never steps in them anymore, but it's a comparative rarity. plus he's extra careful when he knows evan is about because it'd be fucking embarrassing. ]
[ he makes it to the mine, only closes traps when he's confident there's no other way around them, and when he gets to the door david sticks his head in first to see where evan is before he slips through and pushes the door shut behind himself. ]
Evenin'.
[ maybe? it's always dark here and time is fake anyway, it counts. ]
no subject
but at the same time, there's leeway for the people who come down here for reasons that aren't constant harassment, theft, and attempted murder. that david, of all people, is earning that should be a bigger problem for him than it's become.
evan glances over from where he's dismantling a busted trap, the jaws bent out of place, the springs broken. the natural surge of irritation that comes when they meet is there, but it quiets. for the most part. ]
Is it? [ not that he knows time anymore. it's always night on the estate. ] This your time of day?
[ it never used to be his, but there's no more mines to trawl in the darkness. might as well make do with nighttime. ]
no subject
[ david shrugs off his backpack and sets it down on a workbench next to the one evan's working at — it rattles with the sound of glass knocking about as he does so, ignores it as he himself leans against the table and watches evan work. ]
Worst part of... [ he trails off, brows pinched when he catches himself. shakes his head like he's physically shaking off the memory of 5am practices in the rain and the cold. he never talks about his rugby days except in the vaguest terms so why was he so ready to share that without thinking? ]
[ mentally he redirects with a quiet snort and a shake of his head. ] Just not much of a morning person I guess. Yeah.
no subject
just something about nights. evenings. mornings. a piece of before. evan shrugs, and pulls a few fragments of a spring free from the mess in front of him. ]
Lucky you. No mornings here.
[ it's said as grimly as ever, with a little bit of an edge to it. no mornings. only nights, or in a few cases, bright burning midafternoons. sunset in one place. but never morning. never the break of day. there's probably a reason for that. ]
You brought somethin'.
[ he heard the glass clinking, and has a guess about what it is, but he's not going to jump to conclusions just yet. ]
no subject
[ and then evan mentions his bag and david glances at it thoughtfully. shrugs a shoulder. ] Pilfered a couple bottles while I was there. You want some?
no subject
Get anything that ain't wine?
[ because the few times he was in there, that looked like the only thing she had available - and that's not even slightly his thing. ]
no subject
[ it doesn't surprise david that he's not about that, but david's never been a particularly picky drinker himself. wine's never been his go to, but he's got no issue with it. especially not these days. ]
no subject
whether david opts to drink or not, he himself stays focused on the broken metal in front of him. he pulls at screws, snaps the metal, sometimes bends it - until a spring finally comes free, and this one's not so broken. it flies out and buries itself in his arm.
it's a painful thing, but nothing new, and nothing that bad. he reaches up, pulls it out, and tosses it in a box of other not-so-broken pieces nearby before going back to his work as if nothing happened. ]
She's gonna question that. Ghosts don't drink.
no subject
Too late to worry about that.
[ with all the other chaos about, he wonders if she'll even notice a few missing bottles of wine, but if he frets about that he'll probably end up worrying about a million little things that could point in any direction he doesn't want. ]
no subject
[ it's not a great suggestion, but he's not exactly here to help.
the broken trap ends up dismantled, partly torn apart by his own hands. anything that can't be salvaged goes in a box meant for scrap; the rest to be reused, like the screw. once he's done, he turns to david, watching him from behind the mask. ]
You here for a reason or you just hiding out?
no subject
I can leave if you want me gone.
[ he shrugs. primarily he's just here to hide out a bit, let the clock tick down before he heads out. helps that for the most part he doesn't actually mind evan's company all that much. he doesn't pry, doesn't talk more than he needs to, lately he's not even that antagonistic. ]
[ but that's truthfully all that's on his mind. not that he'd be against anything else, he's certainly in good spirits with a lot of energy, but there's a handful of reasons he's not thinking about it. ]
no subject
he's got no interest in drinking, but that's not the only thing to do. ]
Wouldn't have told you she doesn't come here if I cared about that.
[ he picks up a nearby rag, already filthy with grease and blood and rust flakes, and wipes his hands off on it. ]
Could pay me back for letting you hide out.
[ that's mostly a joke. mostly. ]
no subject
[ (no, he doesn't see why things like "bringing up daddy issues" or "david you have a major gut wound" would be reason not to fuck.) ]
I could.
no subject
he sets down the rag and heads toward david. there's more light in the workshop than before with the forge-slash-furnace still lit from his previous work, but it's not much good to reveal any expression given he hasn't bothered to take off the mask. ]
Or you just gonna freeload 'til I get sick of you?
no subject
Thinkin' about it.
[ he's joking, david would hope that if that's not obvious on its own, the way he reaches out once evan's close enough to grip the front of evan's waders and tug him in closer should say plenty. ]
no subject
Then you gotta pay.
[ also mostly a joke. more an implication. now that they're close enough, he gets a hand on david, up at his neck to tilt his head back. all the bruises are long since gone, and not just because of time. there's more than a few downsides to the way this place heals.
but there's upsides, too. he presses his thumb over the pulse, feels the heartbeat, knows he can just leave more marks. more bruises. more anything. ]
no subject
[ david lets him tilt his head back, looks up at his mask with lidded eyes and a gently amused expression over this stupid conversation, lets out a quiet breath through his nose at the press of evan's thumb. ]
Guess I can do that.
no subject
but it's there, anyway, and so's david. not pissed off. not running. not fighting. not anything but there. thoughts and impulses clash, but in the end - as usual - the impulses win out. he can think later, if he does at all.
evan shifts his grip a little, pushes david's head back a little more, and with his free hand reaches up to pull his mask up just enough that he can lean in and bite at that exposed throat. to leave another mark that'll fade into a bruise and then vanish. despite the slow approach, the lack of vitriol in anything they've done so far, it's an abrupt move, and fierce, and while it won't draw blood or hurt in a way that ruins things it's clearly pulling from something evan isn't really thinking about.
his hand drops from his mask to the front of david's shirt and bunches it into a fist, like he's ready to rip it right off him. ]
no subject
[ his free hand goes to find the buckle on the good side of evan's waders to undo it, matches evan's change in energy by dragging blunt nails down his chest, over a nipple, when it's free to him. shamelessly (and apparently unbothered by the way evan grabs his shirt, simply moving closer with the pull) cups and squeezes that pec in a rough grip with another low, pleased noise. ]
no subject
his hand on david's neck moves up into his hair and grips it to keep david's head back. maybe the torn shirt won't be well received. he doesn't really care at this point. clothes, like people, tend to repair in this place.
the other hand, with the shirt now open, moves again - wraps his arm around david's waist and drags him in against evan, making sure he's not going anywhere and giving david about as much access to him as he's got. the closeness probably also gives david a hint of how fast this is getting him going. ]
no subject
at the bite to his collarbone, at the way evan pulls him in closer. ]
[ it's all extremely overwhelming for a second, just a moment before david catches himself, fingertips scraping and digging in where he's holding evan's neck. his other hand he slips from his chest down the back of evan's waders to grab his ass in a similarly rough grip, pulling evan with as he turns and backs up against the table he's been leaning against. ]
no subject
three marks along his collarbone later and evan pulls back just enough to see what he's left, and only then does he finally give them both a little space. only enough to move his hands back to the front again, to rip the shirt open fully and pull at david's pants, belt or zipper or whatever's in the way.
the pull of his own clothes on the metal in his shoulder is easy to ignore, for the moment. right now he just wants david at least partly stripped. there's time to get his clothes off later. ]
no subject
[ times like this, david finds himself wishing evan would wear some normal clothes around here so he could get access to more of him without having to wait for him to unhook his stupid waders. he's seen the guy in trousers, but apparently that's no good out in the mines or whatever. ]
[ that complaint is pretty quickly knocked out of his head when evan finishes ripping his shirt open, the shock of it enough to pull his attention back to what evan's hands are doing along with the barest consideration that he doesn't want his pants to get the same treatment. moves his hands to take over undoing his belt and getting the button open on his jeans. takes the opportunity now evan's no longer at his collarbone to dip his head and return the favour; teeth at the underside of his jaw, down the side of his neck. ]
no subject
they'd be harder to get in that state than a shirt, but he'd try, if only out of instinct and urge.
as david works at his pants evan gets his hands on david's chest. pushes the torn shirt down over his shoulders, feels him out, the same way he's done before but with a harder touch this time, like he might want to leave a bruise everywhere. when the belt's undone and the pants open he's immediately got his hands moving down david's back, under them, under the underwear, returning the squeeze from a moment ago and shifting his leg up just a little to make the grind harder. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)