birdwithoutasong | I'd rather laugh with the sinners

Who: Sol Badguy (

firesealed) and Ky Kiske (

juste_ou_mort)
Universe: Zodion, and continued from a log started there
What: Sol, Ky, not recognizing each other, dancing

An eyebrow notched up under Sol's mask as he took in the movement, graceful and certain as it was. Impressive, and a little more restrained than how he thought most people in this room would choose to hint for things. Sol had been planning only for a dance, but he couldn't think of any good reasons why that would be the case.

There was the cold fact that every time he had sex in this place it gave the gods a little more power...but his own abstention would just make this worse for him, and if they were going to bring the twelve down it wasn't going to be that way. A better strategy would be to simply all kill themselves and take from their store of energy that way -- and given how stupid of an idea that was it just made it clear how much they should avoid it.

Sol ran his hand up to the back of his partner's neck, exerting some slight amount of pressure there as he moved closer with the step of the dance. There was a part of him that itched to know how flexible this person was, how much he could bend on the dance floor, how much of a contrast he would serve to Sol's own carefully steady movements. There was another part of him that just wanted to focus on touching.

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Ky wouldn't have thought of it as "restrained". Pointed, yes. Suggestion a little more prominent than maybe he'd intended, but it felt like what he'd wanted to do. This place was getting to him, creeping under his boundaries and pushing them until he did things like this.

Of course it was the "gods" that urged him and the others, but all the same there was a draw he hadn't really anticipated... Which certainly didn't make it any better to do and only cemented it for what it was in the eyes of the Church, but... With the hand wandering up his back to settle at his neck and the chemicals running through his bloodstream, thinking on that took effort he wasn't giving it.

If his partner wanted to know how flexible he was, it wouldn't be difficult to find out. Ky was willing to bend and arch for him, like this, with the right incentive, with more pushing. It was all in the right direction as it was, but...

Somewhere along the way, Ky'd brought them close enough to a wall to press his partner back against.

Sol was pretty sure that walls weren't supposed to be involved in dancing, even if he'd admit that he knew little enough about the whole dancing scene. And even in Zodion, there were usually more lines between dancing and whatever this was about to become, lines dictated by Sol's desire to avoid anyone becoming emotionally involved, ending up wanting something from him that he wasn't capable of giving.

This shouldn't become anything, wouldn't, if Sol were aware of who he was dancing with.

As it was, his eyebrow ticked up behind his mask, and his hands in their gloves tightened a little on his partner, a warning that depending on what happened, he might find reason to object.

Or maybe just reason to flip them.

It wasn't strictly intentional, catching his partner like this, but all the same it's where this led. Like this, with his head halfway to nonsense and too caught up in being touched. But even then, Ky's aware of the way that grip tightens and, though he presses firmly in, he drags them both away from the wall. There really is more to dancing than that, after all. It's like it's all just a coincidental brush against the surface, maybe a pause, just part of how they've been moving across the floor.

Teasing, maybe. Just a little bit more. Something to paint a better picture of where this could go.

But that reaction, that warning, did exactly the opposite of what it should have done, Ky's sure. That shouldn't have encouraged anything, shouldn't have made him want to keep his partner there.

Something wrong? But his lips curved a little too much, just a little too amused. But every step was closer, kept them tighter together--until Ky held his arm out, stepping back and introducing a space he didn't want in the least between them. Empty air, no touch, no contact. At least, not until he pulled his partner back in close, arm wound around his waist and back to chest.

There was a reason most people found formal dance hot, the sexual tension implicit in it all, and the way that bodies learned to move together. Although there was something naggingly familiar about this one (and naggingly was the right word for it), Sol let it go in favor of actually dancing. Thinking too deeply seemed a waste at the moment.

Even in his costume, it was pretty obvious that Sol had more muscle than practically anyone else in the room, certainly more than whoever he was dancing with (who could use to eat a little more, it seemed). Which was why the instant he realized what was happening his shoulders started to shake a little, a snort of laughter as he was held in.

"Really?" he asked, deciding it was worth commenting on, while he was waiting to see how soon he'd be released and this person could go dance with the woman he clearly thought he was with. The corners of his lips were tilted up in a smirk, not that they could be seen by his partner at the moment. "Think y've got th'wrong person for this." Never mind that it had sort of worked, it had only been sort of.

He just wanted their movements to be closer, tighter, and with plenty more behind them. It was terrible, honestly; he shouldn't, particularly not with a man. But he'd already been with one enough times to find something inherently desirable in it.

Same went for the build. Ky was wiry, built thin and slender by comparison, and sure there was probably something amusing in the gesture, in the step, but then he was leading, wasn't he? Something should have been familiar about the man's voice, but it was fuzzy, hazy to his hearing and nothing registered as familiar.

Still unwilling to speak, Ky pressed his lips close to his partner's ear.

I don't think I do. But there's just enough breath for something to be audible, whispered without a thread of vocal input. You are following me, aren't you? All the same, Ky unwound them, bringing his partner back until again they were face to face.

Sol snorted, hearing that clear challenge in the statement that he was following this slip of a thing, or at least what he couldn't help but interpret as challenge. Maybe it was something in the voice, maybe there was something about the other's movements that resonated on a certain level, or maybe he was going to react this way regardless of what pieces his brain started to put together.

Now where was that wall again...?

Sol waits until they're a little closer, until their steps bring them back that way, before he pushes and moves in, losing the rhythm of the music in favor of letting the rhythm of his body take over.

He knows what he's doing here, though what he doesn't know is why, or how much he'll let it become.

I'd rather laugh with the sinners

i have a better icon but i'm too lazy to renew his account yet, oops

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