there’s something so thrilling about watching the state of ace unfold right before his very eyes. satisfaction curls in his gut, a breathless laugh leaving him. his eyes light up, and he’s a greedy, selfish man as he takes in each expression, every breath, every movement of his body underneath. his teeth peek out from his smile-- beaming and wicked.
it’s a thought to consider. if it were years ago, back when carnage and ace weren’t...carnage and ace, would it have been different? carnage may not have been the same back then, but carnal desire had always been a forefront in his being; both before and now.
his smile sharpens when ace seems to snap out of whatever daze he had put the other under. laughter spills from his mouth silently, eyes crinkling at the corners as he hums. his breath hitches at the hands at his collar, eyes darkening a bit as he stares the other down, lips curving into a knowing smirk as the other speaks. he speaks and carnage knows, just from the breathing-- the expression on the other’s face.
he grunts at the pressure of the kiss, and he swears he feels his teeth mash too hardly against his lip. there’s a twinge of pain, what tastes like copper on the tip of his tongue. he moans.
fingers grasp, messy and uncoordinated-- wanting and impatient. one hand slides up the other’s shirt to scratch at his side, his chest. the other hand cups the side of ace’s jaw as he bites at the other’s mouth, tugs at his lower lip with his teeth.
it’s a kiss that’s violent, a power struggle. carnage smiles against the other’s mouth, the taste of blood on his tongue as he chuckles. he arches his back and purposefully grinds their hips together-- his breathing stuttering at the harsh grip ace has on his hair.
he wakes to a sharp pain in his scalp, immediately yelping and eyes snapping open in shock at the tug to his hair, eyes frantic until they land on carnage. they soften, only slightly, when he realizes it’s just him– not someone trying to kill him ( although he shouldn’t put it past carnage to attempt to kill him someday, yet he does, oddly trusting ). lucky whines sleepily, head leaning towards the hand in his hair, trying to lessen the pressure there and struggling to keep his eyes open. “h-hyung… ‘m. ‘m so sleep,” he drawls, head falling slack, back to the pillow beneath his head.
his hands search out, sliding away from his body in search of carnage, grabbing onto anything and whining again. “don’t wanna,” he murmurs, barely audible, “pleaaase, join meee.”
maybe it’s cruel of him to treat a sleeping lucky in such a way. he already torments the poor thing when he’s awake; he should have some reprieve away from carnage-- even if it’s in the depths of sleep.
he snorts at the thought, and tosses it away when lucky yelps. to carnage, he’d rather have lucky thinking of him every moment. every second of the day. he smiles at the other’s reactions, head cocking to the side as his fingers loosen. he rubs the tips of his fingers on the boy’s scalp soothingly, humming. “my sleepy lovely,” he cooes, smile a bit too twisted, wicked and mischievous on his face. “but i want you to take up. hyung is so bored.”
he glances down at the hands tugging at his clothes, raising his brows. his lips twitch, teeth peeking out as he chuckles. his head cocks to the side, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“needy boy,” he says, shaking his head. he shifts, getting more comfortable on the bed. he moves his hand, letting it drift gently over the expanse of the other’s back. he lets his fingertips drag softly over the expanse. “you’re going to sleep the day away. where’s the fun in that?” his eyes narrow, expression sharpening. he presses his fingertips further into the younger’s back, and then drags his nails down -- over the fabric, but still harsh enough to grab attention. “would you rather cuddle with hyung than play?” he inquires, curious for a moment. he’s always a little shocked when lucky plays into what he wants-- but it’s usually with a bit of incentive, a bit of manipulation thrown in. lucky coming to carnage on all his own accord? that’s something in itself.
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trigger warning: infidelity, sexual themes, language, murder, blood.
“you promised me,” she breathes-- and she’s like a fire; scorching in her stare. hair askew on her head, tear stains down her cheeks. her skin is red with humiliation, with anger. she’s trembling in a way yoongi finds so appealing he can’t help but watch her in muted awe. “you-- you promised, nothing would get out. you swore to me that he wouldn’t find out and he did! he did, and now i’m ruined! he’s going to call of the engagement, he’s going to dump me, and you show up acting as if you haven’t ruined everything!”
“i’m sorry,” he says. lies come easy, always have and always will. “i was angry. i was upset-- it was wrong of me. i just wanted to get back at him-- at her, and i used you for it. i shouldn’t have,” maybe he should feel worse about it. but there’s nothing but satisfaction curling in his gut. the sight of her crying makes him twinge, his fingers twitch. he lifts up a hand, extending out to graze his fingertips on her arm. “noona-- i just wanted to rile him up. he put me in a bad place, so i did it to him. was what that so wrong?”
“yoongi!” she sounds exasperated. her hands are tugging at her hair; yoongi forcefully shoves aside the thought that he wants to do that for her. “do you hear yourself? that’s-- that’s too much! you can’t just...you can’t just use me for your own game! that’s...that’s not right! you don’t use people like that, you can just fucking use me!”
“i’m sorry,” he says again, his eyes falling downcast. he blinks down at the ground, and takes one step, then two. gentle fingers grasp around a dainty wrist, and he brings it up to his face. presses her hand against his cheek and studies the floor, before twisting his head slightly to kiss at her wrist. “i’m sorry. i wanted him to hurt-- i still do, and i used you for it. i’m sorry you’re hurt, i only wanted to hurt him.”
“two wrongs don’t make a right. you’re not a child anymore, that shouldn’t have to be taught to you.” she says, breathless and watching. her hand trembles under his grip, and she makes a weak (feeble, weak, fake) attempt to pull herself away. “your brother did wrong, yes. i agree, i agree with you-- but god, this was too much. this was a step overboard. and your sister-- god, unnie, i’m so sorry. you did so wrong to her and for what?”
he lets her go when she pulls away, and his expression is pained, a faux expression of it as he watches her turn. wrap her arms around herself and stagger away from him. he approaches her slowly, follows her as she pushes open the doors to the balcony. she breathes; in and out, in and out. shamelessly, he watches her form as she does-- trails eyes down curves he’s familiar with. his steps are slow, careful and quiet as he reaches out for her. arms wrap around her from behind, and he clutches her like a lifeline. face shoves into her neck as he inhales, breathes in such a familiar scent; it smells like him, not his brother-- and that sick twist of satisfaction in his gut nearly makes him moan out loud at the thought.
“yoongi,” her voice is tired, exasperated. her hand reaches up to wrap around his arms crossed over her chest. she doesn’t tug him away, and that’s all yoongi really needs to know. “not again. we can’t do this. you can’t do this again.”
“i’ll fix it,” he murmurs, lips pressing the softest of kisses on the slope of her neck. “i promise. i’ll fix it. i’ll fix it for you, noona. you won’t be ruined, i’ll take care of you.” he pulls himself away to turn her around. hands press and they slide, up her sides over her chest to her neck and the sides of her face. he stares down at her, face lowering-- mouths brushing as he hums into her mouth. “i’ll take care of you, i swear it.”
and she’s always been so sweet, so easy. a child starved for attention, throwing herself to the first man that will give her the time of day. stuck in the chambers of his brother’s bedrooms with a ring on her finger-- promises of luxury but only a mere trophy wife. used for looks and nothing else; pretty and sweet but expendable at best. it’s why it was so simple, so easy for yoongi to slide right in and make himself at home; for him to take and take from her and she gives all too willingly.
she’s the type of girl he could have learned to love, if he hadn’t been so ready to toss the idea out of his head the moment he could.
he kisses her like she means something; she kisses him like he’s the first oasis in a desert that’s too expansive. she clutches and writhes under his touch-- and it’s so fucking easy the way he backs her up. presses her up against the railing of the balcony. how fucking easy she is the way she lets him hoist her right up on the railing-- teeth and lips working their way down her neck as she whines and whimpers in his ear.
when he pulls away to breathe, he lets his gaze fall upon her. an angel descended right into hell-- wings tossed away to indulge in the temptation of the devil; red cheeks and a heaving chest, glazed eyes and swollen lips. neck bruised all pretty and yoongi knows the closest he feels to love is probably in this moment; when she looks debauched and brazen-- feeble and wanting and broken. her hands climb, needy, scratch up his chest until they cup his neck-- his name on her mouth in a way that should set any man on fire. that should have him crawling back for more.
he wonders if it’s something in his stare that off-sets her in that moment. her brows pinch and furrow-- and he sees the confusion, the realization of everything settling in; her position, and his own-- her hands retreat but his are quicker to grab her. a tight grip around her dainty wrists, fragile bones. the panic seizes in her face and she trembles as he presses closer to her.
“yoongi,” she breathes. there’s a tone to her voice; like a child, curious and full of such incredulous fear it almost makes him shudder. “w-what are you thinking about?”
he blinks at her. the slow, careful movement of his eyes as he takes her in. she attempts to tug her hands away, and he flexes his hands around her. not too tight to bruise, but enough for her to realize the warning.
“i figured it out, noona.” he says. his voice is quiet, thoughtful. a small smile crosses his face. “how i’m going to fix it.”
maybe it’s something in his voice that off-puts her. but she’s not quick enough, not smart enough. he dips down to give her a kiss that keeps her quiet, and she whimpers against his mouth-- teeth brushing against lips as he exhales shakily into her mouth. his hands drift from her wrists down to her thighs, nails biting into her skin.
“i’m sorry,” he murmurs one more time-- and she doesn’t have a chance to scream when he pushes her back by her thighs; he watches, eyes blank as her body topples backwards-- her hands are extending, and her body falls, falls, falls.
a body against concrete isn’t as loud as he’s expecting. the fall isn’t that high, truth be told; but there’s too many decorations, too many chances to hit something on the way down.
her body looks pretty in the midst of the garden, and he can see from the high angle the red that makes a halo around her head-- oozing and dripping from leaves the longer he stares. lifeless eyes stare back up at him. it’s the most beautiful she’s looked, and if he didn’t love her then, he loves her just a bit more now.
he’s meticulous about it when he drags his eyes from her corpse. things are cleaned the way he knows she likes; things are left in partciular places-- and he writes a note in such a pretty script he’s seen on documents and in letters. the way he remebers her fingertips draw images on her skin. he formulates an apology to his brother ( from her, it says, signed with love and it makes him sick) and tucks it away in their bedroom for safe keeping. he orchestrates the entire thing to look everything unlike it was; and mouths are shut with money that his presence will never be uttered to be near this room within the last twenty-four hours.
yoongi wonders if this is the start of his fall. the start of the descent. they often say in order to become a monster, you have to get rid of all the things you’ve ever held near and dear to you.
ace is suddenly torn between too drunk for this and not drunk enough.
or at least, that’s his thought process as carnage pretty much eliminates any and all possible space between them. and the angry red haze of his mind has dissipated, not as hateful, but now– he’s definitely even more on edge than before. he almost thinks the irrational anger better suits him. but he’s staring at carnage now– the way he is staring at him– that glint in his eyes that may have been there before but that he’d never noticed. the way he grins at him– sweet and unassuming, all teeth. but ace knew better.
and the spite in his own eyes still there but muted, quieter. his mouth is slack, and his throat is suddenly the driest it’s been all night.
tw: sexual themes, sexual content
ace is often the very epitome of everything carnage finds frustrating.
disrespect that’s given to him-- a complete lack of obedience that carnage grows to detest with each passing moment. it’s frustrating, irritating, but he’s spent years having to deal with people just like that. and what’s better is that carnage has dealt with ace before-- when ace wasn’t ace and carnage wasn’t carnage; they were different people back then, but he still knows a semblance of what makes the other tick. what he likes and what he most certainly doesn’t.
and carnage is very, very good at bringing the worst out in people-- and having them act upon it in ways he just oh so adores with all his soul and what’s left of that jagged heart.
the tension in the other’s body feels and seems like a good sign for him. his lips quirk, a wicked smile overgrowing on his face as he shifts, a subtle grind of their hips that causes carnage to chuckle lowly. wonders briefly if ace-- sober, much more in control of himself, would have allowed this to happen. would have staggered within his claws and let carnage take and take; would that have been a possibility? it’s an exciting thought-- one he’ll look into at a later date, when there isn’t such pressing matters to attend to.
“cute,” he murmurs gently, watching the expression on the other’s face settle into shock and then something else. there’s something what feels like victory that settles in, melds in with the want that’s beginning to throb in his gut.
a stifled noise of surprise leaves him at the hand that grabs at his neck, the one that clutches at his shirt. his eyes narrow as he watches, observes the twist of the younger’s lips. he hums-- likes that look on him, hates that look on him. there’s that tell tale nagging voice of submit, submit, submit, that chants in his head. doesn’t know if it’s meant for himself or for ace-- but despite all of it, there’s a part of him that enjoys the chase. the push and pull; how much work he has to put into getting what he thinks is the most satisfying reward out of it.
“what’s this, hm?” he murmurs. one hand leaving the warmth under ace’s shirt to trail it upwards. his nails dig over the fabric in a scraping notion, over ribs, his chest until it trails up the other’s neck. fingers gently wrap around the younger’s jaw, his thumb coming up between their mouths to gently tug on ace’s lower lip idly. “scared to make the first move? is my little baby,” he sneers for a moment-- and then his mouth is brushing a bit more fully against the others. not a kiss, but a promise of one, a breathless laugh leaving him as he shakes against the other. his legs tighten around the other’s hips, as he grinds with a bit more purpose, a bit more incentive. “...too afraid to get a taste of what he’s asked for?”
the shutter clicks loudly in the silence-- and briefly carnage pauses in his photo taking, head cocking to the side to observe the younger’s form for a moment. there doesn’t seem to be a change in his breathing, or a shift in his features. he waits a long moment, watching and waiting until he deems it safe, and snaps another picture, and then another. there’s just something about the helplness of the other-- of lucky lost in his dreams, vulnerable and open for him to do whatever he want-- something that just makes his heart twitch and thoughts that are far too impure to say pollute his head.
locking his phone, he tosses it to the side, cupping his chin in his hand as he gazes down at the boy. watches the rise and fall of his chest, the slightest twitch in his face. trails his gaze down to his throat where he swallows in his sleep. his fingers twitch at his sides.
“lucky,” he murmurs after a moment of staring. he shifts on the bed, sitting up straighter and scooting closer to the younger. he peers down at the other, expression thoughtful and pensive as he gazes. one hand lifts, fingers carding through the other’s hair gently. “hyung’s bored.”
a lack of response causes him to narrow his eyes. his lips purse, his nails scratching in a soothing motion on the scalp of the younger. “lucky,” he tries again-- and this time his fingers tighten in the tresses of his hair, tugging sharply for a moment as his voice sharpens a bit. “wake up,”
“i’m capable of. you just don’t know it,” and it’s a bit of a threat, voice low as his head cocks to the side, movements still a little bit sluggish– and the effect is ruined by a silent hiccup, but ace doesn’t let their locked gazes drop. “don’t be delusional.”
trigger warning: sexual themes
carnage is a greedy man, and he doesn’t hesitate to let his eyes trace and follow from his position above the other. it’s such a power trip, to be in such a stance. he feels as though he has entire control of the situation-- and perhaps he does, with ace’s intoxicated state. if carnage were any more respectable, any more humane-- he might have done the right thing, like send ace on his way back. perhaps got him into his bed (alone, alone, alone) and asleep. he wouldn’t provoke, take advantage of the situation like he’s prone and wanting to do.
his eyebrows raise, smile twisting and curving until he’s baring teeth in a grin. he chuckles, humming as the other shifts and leans up. he stares down at the other, the lack of distance between them only further encouraging carnage to press boundaries; to push and push until he gets exactly what he wants.
“you have such a way with words ace, i’m always enamoured by it.” he teases, tilting his head as their noses brush. his eyes narrow, smile sharpening as he watches, waits; breaths mingle together and carnage lowers his voice, humming in thought. the hand on the male’s side moves-- up and then down in a soft caress, before his fingers begin to play with the hem at the bottom. slowly, flingers glide up-- curious and searching, the pads of his fingers grazing against the flesh of the younger’s hip.
“i have an idea,” he murmurs softly, eyes glinting. the hand bracing himself flexes as he shifts closer, back arching as he shifts on top of the other. a breathless laugh leaves him, and daringly he moves his face inches and inches closer-- mouths only a few spaces apart. his tongue swipes across his lower lip, teeth biting down on the flesh to hide the quirk of his smile. the hand that’s inching further up the other’s shirt glides upwards, over hips and a rib, and he brings it back down-- nails biting and pressing as they slide down in an attempt to egg the other on. “why dont you show me what you’re capable of then, baby?”
however gemini was only getting started though. she just hoped that carnage was recording this, or else what else was the point of all this besides trying to impress? her eyes would make their way over to carnage sitting near the corner, eyebrows raised just asking for all of the attention on her.
he hums at her statement, shrugging his shoulders. leaning back in his seat, one arm reaches around to the chair next to him-- resting on the back as he brings his glass to his mouth to sip at it idly. he watches her over the rim of the cup, mirth radiating from his form. “what can i say? i’m a simple man, simple pleasures. indulge me.” he isn’t simple at all; a mere line from his book-- one of many that he’s said time and time again. carnage is the farthest thing from simple; complex and strange and eerie and everything else.
he glances at her jacket as she leaves it, chuckling as he shifts to get more comfortable. he tilts his head back, knocking the rest of his drink back down his throat. he slides it on the counter, gesturing for another (along with gemini’s wanted champagne) before he leans back-- digging his phone out of his pocket. navigating to the camera is easy work, and he holds it up easily with one hand, smile curved in amusement on his mouth as he begins to record.
he tilts his head behind his phone, raising his brows at her look. his tongue swipes his lower lip, teeth tugging on the flesh as he chuckles. “come on,” he raises his voice a bit. “you can do better than that. what do people say? shake your moneymaker?” his shoulders shake with his laughter. “show some skin, make people want it! gemini, you can do so much better!” he straightens in his seat, one hand reaching to his camera to zoom in a bit more, then reaching out for his drink, bringing it up to his mouth as he continues to film her with amusement bubbling out of him.
his grip tightens around the handle of his beloved dagger, grin turning even sharper if possible, though his tone maintains the same lighthearted tone, airy and playful, though possibly just a tad lower in octave.
“you’re gonna pull a fast one on me any minute now, aren’t you, tough guy?”
trigger warning: minor blood, minor injury, minor violence.
he’s all tricks and lies; he’s fun and glamour and everything pretty, surface level. he’s excitement and he’s ecstasy; he’s everything this place needs-- a reprieve from all the gore and the blood and the drama that plagues every candidate in their society. and levi is just the same-- one of the few people carnage will admit have the possibility of getting the upperhand on him. one of the very few that carnage could maybe admit to being bested at (but god, his pride twinges at the thought).
“i’ve been had,” he chuckles, teeth baring in a grin that looks perhaps a tad bit too wicked, too gleaming and mischievous than anything else. “so quick on your feet. i should learn a thing or two from you, shouldn’t i?” his body shakes with laughter, breathless for a moment from being put on his back and his own mirth.
he hums, smile sharpening at the other’s words. he makes a very good point; levi is very aware of how carnage goes about things-- and maybe that’s what makes it all the more fun. the fact that carnage knows what’s about to come, what to expect from all this. he doesn’t still his hand, letting it slide up with the knife, twisting it between his fingers for a moment.
“who me?” he muses. he taps the blade against the leg of the other, his free hand twitching by his holster, legs shifting underneathe. “i’m not tough. i’m all soft skin and brittle bones-- i’m so fair and dainty, i’m helpless.” he spews, exaggerated and silly as white teeth peek from the pink of his grin. “why, i can’t do anything at all.”
and then he’s jerking. free hand snapping forward to wrap around the hand hovering near his neck. he feels the tip of the blade catch at part of his skin, the sting of it only adding to the adrenaline. his legs push and his upper body shoves forward, spinning the two of them. his knees land harshly on the ground and he sucks in a sharp breath. his own knife shoots up, trailing dangerously over the other’s stomach-- testing the waters by gently pressing-- indenting, but not pushing enough to break skin.
“but i am fast,” he snickers. “you got that right at least.”
but as expected, situations like this is when a tipsy ace’s senses heighten, and instincts kick in as he pivots, twisting so carnage falls on top of him, the constant shortness of his breath from the alcohol making him breath that much harder as the impact to the ground briefly knocks the wind from his lungs. and he stares up at the other, eyes widened to doe-eyed proportions, mouth parted dumbly in shock, but the only things that comes out is
“fuck–”
carnage doesn’t know ace past the surface exterior the other gives off. lots of anger, a quick temperament carnage loves to provoke. he certainly doesn’t know what possesses the younger to drink as drastically as he has, doesn’t know where this anger is coming from (well, that’s a lie; carnage does a lot of things that invoke anger from quite a few different people, ace included).
the hiccup the other lets escape has carnage chuckling. his eyes curve and white teeth peek out from behind pink lips. he shakes his head, shifting with a low grunt as he adjusts himself. he raises his brows as he’s tugged closer, and his breath hitches a bit, eyes going cross eyed for a second as he blinks at the younger. and then slowly, another bubble of laughter escapes.
“oh, look at you.” he murmurs. “all this, no, no, no, but you’re pulling me in. isn’t this the very definition of playing hard to get? do you not like things easy, ace?” his grip tightens briefly around the other’s arms, nails biting into skin for a brief moment before they release, thumbs brushing over the skin in an idly manner. “that’s okay, baby.” he taunts, smile turning wicked. “i’ve always liked a challenge.”
he provokes too much. he presses too many buttons to get reactions that probably aren’t the safest choice, nor the best decision. carnage has long since stopped caring, and has long since accepted the consequences of his actions-- often enjoying them to the fullest. so when carnage hears that tell-tale of breath, the staggering forward-- it’s a very similar feeling to that of winning.
and then air is rushing, the world is spinning. the breath leaves his throat in a rush, his heart beating thump, thump, thump in his chest; the adrenaline pulses in his blood as they topple to the ground, his hands instantly clenching around the other’s form. instead of the floor against his back, he’s upwards-- blinking down at ace’s body underneathe him. he blinks, surprise settling on his features for a moment before it’s wiped off to be replaced with amusement. his shoulders shake with mirth, eyes crinkling at the corners as his teeth bare as he laughs.
he shifts, eyes flickering down over the body beneath him-- and he doesn’t at all stop the deviant twist to his smile. he moves, one hand leaving the other’s body to brace himself on the floor against ace’s head, and the other rests idly on the boy’s waist. the ground feels harsh on his knees, and he adjusts his body, lowering so he’s seated on top of the other’s hips.
“what a gentleman,” he says dryly. he drums the fingers on ace’s side, tapping a rhythm as he hums in thought. “didn’t know you were capable of that, ace.” the teasing tone drips into his words, accentuated by his smile. “or were you trying to find a viable reason to get yourself under me? you know, all you had to do was ask.”
lucky watches as carnage lines up another throw, heart rising in his throat as he hopes carnage finally lands a better spot– yet he’s still a ring out of the center, and lucky’s heart almost sinks. “i-i don’t! i swear! i guess it’s– beginners luck…?” he offers, biting his lip as he glances at carnage, trying to gauge his expression.
every bullseye the other makes, the lick of irritation grows stronger. pride dented, his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek. he counts to five, slowly, in his head. breathes out through his nose as his eyes fall shut, and his lips twitch when the younger claims he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
carnage wonders what part is bullshit and what part is the truth; lucky seems to innocent, too nice of a boy to be trying to hustle him-- to try and deceive carnage of all people. but it’s still ridiculous-- lucky can’t actually have lady luck that enamoured with him. he just refuses to believe it.
“you don’t know what you’re doing,” he says, slowly-- lethargically. he studies the board with a languid, blinking gaze. “...and yet,” he pauses, eyes flickering over to the male. “you’ve hit it each and everytime. at this rate, i have no chance of ever beating your score.” he says it more for show; carnage never plays for points, never plays to win. it’s always something satisfying about darts-- the throw, the sound of it hitting the board; he wonders what it’d be like to change it up-- knives instead of plastic, human flesh instead of that clunky thing attached to his wall.
a lightbulb flickers in his head.
“beginner’s luck?” he chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners, the flash of his teeth bright behind the pink of his mouth. “how silly. okay, okay. i’ll give it to you this time, hm?” he waves his hand around in dismissal. he crosses over to the board, and begins tugging out the darts stuck into the fiber. his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, mouth twitching slowly into what wants to be a grin.
“i’ve got an idea. lucky, would you like to play a different game?” he twists, spinning a dart in his fingers as he tilts his head at the other, a sweet expression on his face. “you won’t have to do much. you just have to listen to hyung, okay? i promise it’ll be lots of fun.”
for me, he doesn’t add. maybe not so much for you.
above every hedonistic interest he has-- one reigns true, that thril will always be the best result achieved. in the conquests he saunters after, its always the thrill of it; who would approve, who wouldn’t; what boundaries could he press against before he gets in trouble-- what sort of reaction would he get that would amuse and get his heart really pumping?
and if anything gets that real intense beat-- it’s looking the possibility of death in the eye and surviving. it’s the thrill of being so vulnerable for a moment before he’s able to get one foot right in front of another. especially -- especially if levi is any sort of involved.
he breathes quickly, a wicked grin crossing his face as he gazes up at the other, eyes flickering over the other’s face as he hums, shifting under the other. one arm is pressed to his side, and the other is pinned under the weight of levi’s limb. the touch of metal under his jaw is something exciting-- blood rushing through his body as he arches his neck, grinning boyishly.
“ah, my favorite position.” he chuckles into the air, voice a bit ragged in the silence of the training room. his fingers twitch around the knife in his hand, and he shifts, adjusting his other arm slightly; tips of his fingers grazing the holster on his leg. “aren’t you just the master of knowing how to get me on my back?”
he grips carnage’s shirt that much tighter, voice low and irritated, “don’t call me that you asshole– the hell.”
the male is falling all over the place, straight and swaying before tipping over. a chuckle tumbles out of his mouth at the sight, shifting his own balance as he tightens his grip around the other’s arms, attempting to keep him standing. he shakes his head, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he observes. he drums his fingers on ace’s arm in idle movement, eyebrows raising.
“you’re not?” he questions voice, lifting in an exaggerated inquisitive tone. a faux expression of surprise crosses his face, looking comical against the twitching of his lips. “what’s this supposed to be then? you come here, to my home, mind you-- bashing on the door to get my attention, and then falling on me quite literally and putting your hands all over me?” the amusement is bleeding into his voice, hands lifting to wrap around the younger’s wrists gently.
carnage hums, smile sharpening a bit at the feeling of ace’s hands climbing higher on his form-- head leaning back a bit as his eyelid droop lower. fingers tap gently on the other’s forearm, head lilting to the side loosely. “look at you, getting closer and closer. are you playing hard to get, ace?” he grins, wolfish at the other, shoulders shaking with uncontained mirth.
he shifts, eyes flickering down to the hands tightening around his shirt. his tongue sweeps across his lower teeth, eyes averting back to the other. he lets out a thoughtful noise. “hm? alright, what would you like to be called then?” he questions, voice lowering to imitate his, with more of a coy tone rather than irritated. “honey? pretty? or...” his hands slide, slow and skittering across the other’s arms, teeth catching on his lower lip as his smirk twitches. he keeps his touch soft, gentle and light, fingers twisting so the blunt ends of his nails barely trace over the others arms. “...baby?”
it’s always interesting what people would do for something miniscule. for something so simple-- money, pride, for shits and giggles. seeing people break out of comfort zones on whim or for some petty, absurd reason or just to prove a point. that’s like pure, endless entertainment for him. though it’s not to say he isn’t a participant in it either-- carnage does a lot of things just for the amusement of it, for the benefits that come with it.
this is no different.
he swirls the liquid in the glass in thought, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek as his head cocks to the side. his eyes trails over the female in front of him-- a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. he hums, thoughtful as his tongue plays with the inside of his cheek, before slowly sliding over his lower lip. he brings the glass to his mouth, finger tapping on the side of the glass.
“i dare you, pretty gemini,” he says slowly, his drawl sounding much more drawn out and exaggerated. he smiles over the rim of the glass, teeth peeking out from behind it. he gestures to the bartop a little bit aways from them, teeth tugging on his lower lip. “to dance.” he says it simply, quickly; his eyes snap back to her, a hum leaving. “...but make it a show. make it worth while-- turn heads, catch eyes, the whole damn show.”
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