Syx swallowed, barely tasting the frozen treat on his tongue. That look was causing a heated flooded feeling to settle bellow his belly as he became acutely aware of his tentacle in it’s sheath. Why was he such an addict to these games? And partners that so willingly played them with him. Shifting in his seat, he attempted to surreptitiously rub his legs together as the hunger gaze locked on him.
❝Exceptional,❞ Syx echoed, finding it easier to keep his eyes on Harrison than acknowledge the waiter. As the man left, Syx fidgeted, fingers running over the fabric of his leather pants in order to keep them off Harrison, ❝Before the dance floor would ruin all the fun,❞ his grin turned wicked as his voice dropped an octave, ❝After we start dancing… Well lets just say, I’ve always taken the self inflicted destruction of my partner’s garments as a point of pride.❞
More so with Wayne who he couldn’t hope to leave a mark on. It had started early during the game, having it a point of victory to wreck that white suit. But later when they’d dated… Evil gods was it hot to watch that man destroy a pair of jeans with his erection. Not that anyone else could match that level of wardrobe ruination, but he’d take Anna’s soaked through panties or Harrison’s straining pants with absolutely evil glee.
Oh ho ho, Harrison can tell that got to his companion and he feels a flush of devilish pride. So why not double down?
“As much as I love this outfit, I’ve always been fond of having my clothes torn off of me,” he boasts, biting his lower lip. “Even when I top Wayne, its a certain mmmm lovely act of dominance that gets me worked up every time. Though speaking of getting worked up…..”
He paused only because the waiter had returned with his card in a black billfold. Reaching for the pen he signs his name and a 20% tip with a flourish, tucking the card back into his wallet before resuming their conversation.
“It’s quite possible you’re going to see me straining the seams of these jeans if we’re out on the floor. I find the best moves are those you do grinding up against a partner,” he says with a flash of teeth as he grins before standing up and offering Syx his hand. As great as the restaurant has been, it’s time to get out of here.
❝Are we sure I’m the villain?❞ Syx wondered allowed as he stood, his bare hand fitted against Harrison’s. He’d need to let it go to get his leather jacket on again. He was rather loath to.
But he did anyway. Pulling it on as a protective armor against the staring he’d face on their way to the next destination. Resolutely trying not to think about the people that would be there to watch them grinding on each other dancing. The people who would be close enough to touch and for whom quite a bit of blue skin would be revealed from either man.
He swallowed hard. A bark of laughter forced out, lips quirked into a smile. He tried to keep the banter going in the same way but the villainous showboating tone crept in. The tone he used with Metro Man to cover his fear of standing before jeering crowds close enough to throw things at him with only precedence and pretense and a few bots to protect him.
His smirk was wicked, one normally reserved for Miss Ritchi when she was tied up and being sassy, ❝Then I hope your Minion put as much thought into friction burn reducing underwear as mine did,❞ it had been for running rather than sexual encounters, but the practicality still held.
RP backup 