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@chase-to-the-edge
Oh. [Crap. What’s she supposed to say to that?] —Uh, you’re lucky you have enough right mind to try to quit in the first place, damn.
[A scoff that's almost a chuckle but not quite.] Dunno. S'pose so. Tryin' at least but it was sorta shocked into me at first. I mean, I do wanna do it fer me and all, and fer Eros, 'cause he don't smoke. And fer... well, it don't matter. S'just that I kinda avoided thinkin' 'bout it in detail until someone forced me to kinda face it, ya know?
[DATABASE SMS] Reply to Photo Comment by: "Chase"
Fuck, no, I like you plenty! I’m sorry if I come off as a bitch sometimes, I swear I don’t go home and stick pins in a Chase voodoo doll or anything. I suppose I’m just not too great at social interaction, but I promise the weirdness isn’t your fault.
I’m glad things haven’t been too crazy, anyway. Believe you me, I’m not a fan of drama either, but it seems like it’s hard to avoid in this place sometimes.
You didnt come of as a bitch, Lil. But that's funny imagery so thanks. lol.
Nah I just wasn't sure, yer kinda stuff 'round me and stuff and I just always get a bad feelin. Yer sure it's nuthin yeah? Would hate ta think I'm doin' something to offend ya.
I feel ya there, sister. What sort of drama is chasin you 'round these days?
No need to feel sorry for me, I think the lack of marks will be made up for very soon. I can’t say I know Denver, but I’m sure he didn’t complain.
I should hope so, sir. F'not then we ain't all doin' our jobs, I reckon. [He chuckles] Wait, were you the one Dorian was workin' with?
[DATABASE SMS: Reply to "Zaichik"]
Whenever you want to defile my couch, I’m sure it could be arranged.
Been there, done that. ;) Or have ya forgotten?
Hollow Halls | Chase and Dmitri
[Chase’s smile is soft where it was usually impish, hesitation in place of his typical daring, the teasing glint in his eyes. And he gets Chase’s vulnerability now, and he cherishes it, the way that Chase lets himself be drawn in, the way he feels smaller than he usually does under the span on Dmitri’s hand. And it’s not like the last time, but there’s still echoes of it, because there’s a melancholy hanging about Chase, remnants of the same aching hollowness that Dmitri had seen so starkly just a few short weeks before. And as much as he doesn’t want Chase aching, wants Chase content and secure and fulfilled, there’s still something that feels almost like satisfaction purring in his chest that, since wishing Chase’s darker feelings away isn’t an option, he at least is party to them.
The door closes behind them and he takes Chase by the waist, gathering him against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of their breaths together, Chase muted and seeking comfort for some unspecific sense of unease, Dmitri feeling comforted himself, tension he hadn’t even realized he was carrying sliding out of his shoulders and spine as he wraps arms around Chase, revels in the knowledge that Chase had texted him come to him.]
Of course it’s alright, Zaichik. [He chides gently, smile curving his features as warmth suffuses his chest, leaning down a drop a chaste but lingering kiss to Chase’s upturned mouth.] You don’t need a reason to come to me. It doesn’t need to be a crisis. You want my company, and I’m happy to have yours.
[Dmitri gathers him, like a gentle wave, warm and reoccurring and guided by a natural tide and it's almost like he needs it as much as Chase does, almost like he's as partial to it as Chase is, in this unique thing that they share between them, somehow both light and playful, and gently deep and churning at the same time.
And his affection for Dmitri sores in that moment, in the way he mutters Chase's nickname he's so come to love, in the way he kisses him almost chase, almost intentionless, because he's a true friend. More than that, certainly, but a friend nonetheless, and Chase feels like he can rely on him, regardless of his position with him, of his job. If sex were removed from the picture, he'd still feel safe with Dmitri, still feel like Dmitri would stay, for reasons beyond sex, now.
Not that he has any inclination or desire to abandon the startling chemistry between them, the way they feed into each other's sexuality so well, but in some respects, it's nice to know, that Dmitri has come to care for him in ways that aren't only about having Chase's body.
He tucks his head under Dmitri's chin, curling into him a bit and letting himself sink into the rhythm of the man's warm and beating chest.] M'glad ya feel that way, sir. [He wants to say more, but he can't, can't find any further words, so he stays there, silent and breathing in the scent of him, the surety of his being there, before finding his hand and taking it gently in his own, tugging him towards the sofa.]
[Tossing the rag over his shoulder as he picked up his pace and stepped into the elevator, Jude quickly gave a nod of gratification at the other person already standing in the elevator, who had saved him from having to wait for the next one.] Thanks, man. Uh, I’m heading up to the gym, so I’m pretty sure that’s floor number 16.
Roger that, mate, [he replies, punching the appropriate floors before leaning against the wall, arms crossed.]
Hittin' the gym already, yeah? I don't reckon I seen ya around here yet. Pretty dedicated fer a new bloke. [A bit of a chuckle] More dedicated than I am, anyhow. I tend to just go and get distracted by the view.
Either or but I haven’t had the pleasure of literal claws across my back lately.
Ooh, too bad; I reckon that's kinda the best. Gettin' all marked up and such. I know I've left Master Denver pretty bloody clawed. [he chuckles, winking]
[DATABASE SMS] Reply to Photo Comment by: "Chase"
I dunno much about modeling, but I bet you’ll make it. You’re too pretty not to— but I think we’ve already had this conversation, lol.
I’ve been okay. Nothing worth mentioning. ‘Much’ seems like a bit of a loaded qualifier, though.
That's sweet of ya, mate. I dunno, it's tough work. Harder than I thought it would be, but that's alright, I ain't bothered by a bit of a challenge.
Ya always say that. I reckon yer lyin' sister. I reckon there's tons worth mentioning, ya just ain't gonna mention it 'round me. :P Sometimes I get the idea ya ain't so fond of me. Haha
Nah, I don't think I meant it that way, really. Things have been pretty good. Managed to avoid drama recently, fer the most part, so that's good. Don't fancy drama too much.
[He he known? He had, in some ways. Because he’d known that Chase had wanted him, he’d proven that with a hasty blowjob and then again over Christmas, an encounter that had been more of a date than a hire, even though he doesn’t think he or Chase ever ascribed either word to it. Or any kind of word to them. They just - were. And he’d proven it again when it’d been Dmitri that he’d come to for comfort, coming to him like he was a port in a storm.
And he accepted the ambiguity, but it some ways it still left him unsettled, uncertain, because he didn’t have words to describe them and so it left him grasping, everything between them intense but still intangible, and he didn’t want to be fooled or caught short by ascribing more meaning to this than Chase did.]
Maybe I shouldn’t be. [He concedes, arms wrapped tight around Chase, looking down at Chase’s face turned upwards to his, the point of his chin digging into Dmitri’s chest.] It should go unsaid, it does most of the time, but I can’t deny that it’s….good, to hear it.
[Chase smiles softly, because he can relate to that. He knows what that's like, needing to hear something, needing it confirmed despite what he may or may not 'know' without it being said. Somehow the confirmation just makes it more tangible, more safe.
But he's never seen Dmitri as someone who needs reassurance, who needs to be kept safe. In Chase's eyes he's so strong, so confident and tall in his stature and perhaps he doesn't exude the same kind of protective nature as Denver does, but Chase has always felt safe around him, comforted and like the master is clearly the more sure footed of the two. And it's strange, to see moments where they've perhaps switched positions for a moment or two.
He lets his hand find the solid heat of Dmitri's chest, feeling a heart beat under his palm as he rests there, still in thought for a second, before sliding it up to curl around Dmitri's neck and tug him down into a kiss, Chase rocking up onto the balls of his feet to close the small distance.
His kiss is unhurried and warm; damp, open and pliable and the fingers of his other hand curls into the man's shirt.
After a moment he pulls back enough to speak on a gentle exhale.]
Well, don't let me go so long without sayin' it outright then, sir. I care 'bout ya and yer important ta me and I know first hand what it's like to need to... hear things. Wouldn't want ya ever to doubt anythin' with me. 'Specially with what people are sayin' 'bout me. And 'bout you. So... y'know how I've called on ya before, fer company and stuff. You can do the same, ya know? Ya don't often seek me out, and maybe that's just 'cause I make myself available a lot, but you know ya can, right?
[DATABASE SMS: Reply to "Zaichik"]
Maybe ;) Oh, so you’re threatening me? This is extortion.
Whatever ya wanna call it, f'it include me and yer mouth, I'm pretty sure it's the sexy kind.
[DATABASE SMS: Reply to "Chase"]
Yeah. But honestly, I’m probably more likely to call you a shithead. Affectionately, of course.
Comedic gold right there.
Of course. 'Cause how else would anyone ever take the term shithead? hahah
I'm glad ya agree. Life just ain't as fun f'ya can't laugh at the stupid shit.
You’ve warmed the cockles of my cold and bitter heart. [He grins, choosing not to remark on the fact that he hadn’t fucked a lot of escorts, hadn’t really been tempted. That he’d come here to get paid, that Chase and Owen were more exceptions than anything else - although Chase had certainly become a friend and Owen had become something more.]
What? Are you just calling me out because it has “tit” in it? Like, not my favorite body part but it’s still a damn good word. Descriptive, I thought.
[He laughs] Uh, yeah basically mate. I mean, descriptive or not, it kinda makes ya sound like a wanker. Which ya are, so I s'pose it works.
I hate. Being. Sick.
[Chase’s toes curl, digging into the couch, into Denver’s calves as he flexes underneath the boy, languid and lazy. Deliciously slow and positively predator as Chase begs and pants against him. And he’s lost, focused exclusively on the breathy whines Chase releases, the writhe of that slim body that he can feel from head to toe, the way Chase sinks back into his chest, the line of heat between their bodies, trapped by cotton, by too many clothes. He hums noncommittally as Chase’s voice takes on that tenor, that needy reediness that Denver knows means he’s surrendering, sinking lightly, drifting into a place where Denver knows he becomes more instinctual, more raw and purely submissive, reliant on Denver to give him the releases he begs for. It heats Denver from the inside out to have anybody be reliant on him. To have that kind of control. To be able to give and take.]
So eager. [He raises his palm towards Chase’s mouth, knows this is going to be sloppy, far from smooth and perfect, sex always is and Denver is more filthy than most when it comes down to it.] Get me wet for you then.
['Get me wet for you, then'.
God, FUCK, Denver's debilitating, and Chase is lost, entirely gone, swimming in a headspace he frequents around this man, only around this man, in this way, and even the low hum, the roll of his tone, that purr that's somewhere between a growl and a breath, a melody and a grunt, has Chase's spine arching for him, has him keening and letting another whimper fall because fuck, no one quite has a hold on him the way Denver does. This incredible balance of sexually, submissively, mentally and emotionally and he's so victim to him, victim to him in ways that make Chase feel a bit like he's drowning and he's welcoming the water in his lungs.
And he's enamored, obsessive with Denver's filth. None of Chase's other clients are quite as filthy as Denver is, in this animal and lustful way, dirty and animal and man, and Chase pants as he allows his mouth to coat his tongue with saliva and paint a wet stripe up the man's palm, messy and dripping and fuck, he lets out another whine, hips shifting.]
Master--master please. Please, m'all yers. M'yers, please I'll do anythin', just touch me sir, please, fuck--
[DATABASE SMS: Reply to "Zaichik"]
Christ yer cute.
That’s typically my line.
Well apparently, sir, I'm livin' life on the edge and stealin' it fer a bit. Because fuck.
Though i coulda also said yer sexy and how much that makes me wanna crawl inta yer lap, but I figured I'd mix it up a bit :P
Christ yer cute.
