Abel Parrish + Fenrir (devourer) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-03-08 15:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | fenrir, loki |
i don't want you to do as i say
Who: Abel & Nish.
What: Abel tests a theory.
Where: Nish's apartment.
When: Tuesday, March 7, evening. (A few days after this thread.)
Rating: NC-17 (but not for what you think).
Abel held the burned disk, encased in plastic for its own safety, between two fingers as he closed the door of his apartment and made sure to lock it. It would not do for some other curious party to find their way to the fifth floor and suddenly make entrance into his abode. There was nothing damning inside his space, but his space was sacred all the same.
Once he was assured of his security, he turned on one sneakered heel toward Nish's apartment, walked the few feet with a casual pace belying his excitement, and rapped on her door three times in quick succession.
Nish was lying on her couch in a pleasant semi-conscious drug-induced haze. She’d gotten the call late this afternoon from the prosecutor that the State had decided to accept her plea offer, which meant her client was going to jail and she was now officially off the case that had pushed her back into her old addiction. She was happy for all of about five minutes, and then took the rest of the day off. As soon as she got home she did three lines and went to sleep.
Only to be woken up out of her reverie by a loud pounding on her door. She startled awake, sitting up, confused as hell and convinced that the noise had been in her dream, or it was Bear knocking something over. But he was asleep at the end of the couch, so that couldn’t be. Sluggishly, her brain concluded that it must be the door, which only confused her more. Rafe was the only one who visited her, and the way they’d left things, she was sure she’d seen the last of him in her apartment.
With an annoyed groan she pulled herself up off the couch, rubbing her face roughly and doing her best to smooth down her hair. The clothes she’d worn to work were rumpled from sleep, and her pupils were still dilated and bloodshot from the drugs still in her system, but whoever it was she’d just convince them she’d just been sleeping. Or had a bad cold. Fuck it, it was her own apartment, she could do what she wanted.
She opened the door, her brain taking far too long to pin the name on the asshole. “Ohh, fuck,” she groaned. “What do you want?” she asked irritably, squinting at him. She had no idea what time it was, but it felt late.
Abel loomed over the threshold, hands clasped behind his back so Nish could not see the burned disk. A slight smile moved over his lips, his shoulders rising and falling in a shrug.
"Heard you closed the case. Weren't we supposed to pop a bottle in celebration of your success?" He leaned forward into the doorway, pushing into her private space; one hand reached out and pressed a palm to the door's smooth surface, making her strain if she attempted to close it.
“Fresh out,” she said, “and besides, I lost.” Though that was why she was celebrating, she didn’t bother pointing that out. She tried pushing on the door to close it on him, but instead found herself stepping back as he pushed the door into her apartment. She frowned up at him. “I don’t remember inviting you in,” she pointed out. Behind her, out of sight on the couch, Bear raised his head at the door, ears flattening against his head and a low growl in his throat the second Abel’s foot crossed the threshold of her apartment.
"It's OK, you're better with body language than with your mouth. Though I'd be happy to give that a test run, too. Just no teeth." She narrowed her eyes at him, glaring daggers and not even pretending to misunderstand him. He stepped further into the apartment, through the doorway and she stepped back before thinking about it. His eyes raked around the space. "Besides, kinda figured you wouldn't wanna be alone after all that fun. I wake you up?" His eyes raked over her face, down her body in a lewd fashion, then back up to note the bags under her eyes. She almost shivered from the instant revulsion his eyes on her caused.
“Rudely, yes,” she complained, crossing her arms but not moving away from the doorway, not giving him any indication that he was welcome in her home. “In fact that’s something I’d like to get back to...is there a point to this intrusion?” she demanded, “I’ve never let you in, and I was happy to keep it that way.” Her high was wearing off and she was now firmly in the belligerent and argumentative phase. Or that could have just been a result of his presence in her space.
His grin widened, mostly out of irritation rather than amusement. He finally lifted the burned disk into her line of vision.
"Look, I brought a movie. A peace offering, you know? Ever heard of that?" Nish frowned at the cd dubiously and then rolled her eyes, stepping back just a bit. Glancing around Nish, he noted a large, white cat, his smile tempering. The animal hissed in his direction, its back arched with nearly every piece of its fur standing on end. "Not very good with visitors, is he?"
Her head whipped around to the couch where Bear was spitting in Abel’s direction. Her eyes widened with shock - she’d never seen him like that, ever. Perhaps unwisely, she moved towards him, though Bear kept his eyes firmly on Abel, growling threateningly low in his throat. “He’s actually good with people...what does that say about you?” She tried to calm Bear down, but while he didn’t swipe at her, he also wouldn’t let her touch him. “It’s okay, Bear, the big mean man won’t hurt you,” she cooed, more for Abel’s benefit than Bear’s.
"Cute," he replied to Nish's nickname. He followed her into the apartment's depths, closing the front door behind him. As he moved further into the apartment, the cat retreated, hissing and spitting in its wake. Abel stopped halfway into the living room, brows raised. "Maybe I stepped in dog shit or something, but this seems a little overdramatic." The cat fled the scene as Abel was making a mock show of looking at the soles of his shoes, which were certainly devoid of feces. He shook his head mockingly, swallowing his laughter as he watched the small animal go.
“Uggh…” Nish sighed in frustration, looking between Abel and Bear’s fleeing form, and back at Abel. “Just...uggh, stay there,” she commanded, following Bear towards the other end of her apartment where he jumped up onto the kitchen counter and then up onto the top of the cupboards. “Hey, shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, though Bear’s eyes were huge, fixed on Abel standing by the door. Nish’s attention was divided, trying to keep an eye on Abel to make sure he stayed put, but also trying to calm her cat down.
Abel did not, of course, stay put. "I think it might be better if he didn't see me," he offered as a lame excuse, moving further into the living room. His gaze swept the space, noting the furniture layout and the TV, with accompanying disc space. Setting the burned CD down on her coffee table, he continued to explore further into the depths of Nish's apartment, a small hallway leading to her bedroom and bath.
"So he took a plea deal?" Abel knew the details of the case already, having been involved in them, but this was merely to keep Nish distracted. Entering her darkened bedroom, he glanced about over the few pieces of furniture within. A bed and nightstand caught his particular interest, the latter being the one he chose to investigate further by quietly opening its top drawer to rifle through its contents.
She heard him from further away than before, but didn’t turn, instead focusing on Bear and his huge eyes and defensive posture. “Yeah, the State accepted the deal and he went to jail this afternoon,” she called back, muttering ‘thank god’ under her breath. She reached up to try and soothe Bear with her hand on his back, but he shied away, eyes fixed behind her, this time taking a small warning swipe at her and catching her hand with one nail. “Jesus,” she hissed, pulling back and inspecting the slash across the back of her hand, blood pooling darkly in the wound. She crossed to the sink and ran cold water over the cut, waiting until the water ran clear before heading to the bathroom down the hall for a bandaid that Abel was just coming out of. She frowned when he wasn’t in the entryway where she’d left him, but figured he wouldn’t stay there anyway.
A slim book came to hand; Abel quickly realized it was a personal journal, and stuffed it into the back of his pants, pulling his shirt over the volume to hide it as best he could. He closed the drawer and touched nothing else, the room seemingly untouched except by his presence. He removed himself from the bedroom, instead turning into the bathroom and flicking the light on and off as though to imply he was finished in there.
"Nice decor. You do it yourself?" He led them both back into the living room. The burned CD was still on the coffee table. "So, you gonna get us some drinks, or what's going on?"
Nish shook her head, sitting on the couch and rubbing her face again in an effort to wake up the rest of the way. It was surreal, having him here in her livingroom. She was having the constant sense that he didn’t belong, that his presence was somehow wrong. “Nope; Bear’s in there, I don’t want to aggravate him any more.” She narrowed her eyes at him then, as if just realising he was there. “And I still haven’t invited you in,” she said, “what are you doing here?” she finally demanded. This wasn’t like their usual meetings, and it was unsettling.
Abel pulled his gaze away from the burned CD to Nish, and slowly crossed the space toward her. He slowly pushed into her personal bubble, looming over her.
"I thought we had fun the last couple of times we hung out. And I said you could always invite me over. I guess I decided to take the prerogative." A hand reached out, fingers lightly skimming over the side of her face. "After all, aren't you celebrating?" A closer look saw bloodshot eyes, which were easily attributed to anything else. His hand moved up, carefully moving a strand of hair out of her face.
She looked up at him as he approached and almost flinched away from his hand, the gentle touch completely incongruous to their earlier encounters. A million thoughts filled her head, not the least of which was ‘this is a trap’, but others surfaced that were less alarming. That she was on rocky ground with Rafe at the moment, as far as she knew, and that Abel scared the shit out of her but yet knew exactly how to get her off. She closed her eyes at the caress of his fingers as he brushed her hair out of her face, a strange blend of fear and pleasure growing in her belly. WIth a sigh she pulled away just slightly, looking up at him. “What do you want from me, Abel?” she asked, her voice low, serious.
"Abso-fuckin'-lutely nothing," he lied easily, the hand coming to rest on the juncture between throat and clavicle, lightly hovering above her skin. It ghosted over her shoulder and down her arm until it was back at his side. "Isn't that the appeal?" He took a step back, ducking down for a moment to swipe the CD up. "Even brought something to get us started, not that we've ever needed it. So whadda say? Get us some drinks, we could have a nice, fun night in. Not everything has to be negotiated, counselor." He grinned, waiting for her reply.
She couldn’t help but laugh at his answer, her eyes finally landing on the CD in his hand for the first time, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t usually…” she started, sure she knew what he was implying, but then shrugged. She was no stranger to porn once in a while, though she prefered the real thing. She smirked, “alright,” she relented, getting up and heading to the kitchen. She glanced up at Bear who had not moved from his spot, still growling and backed defensively into the corner, defending his territory from the perceived threat Abel seemed to pose. She shook her head and pulled a half bottle of wine from the fridge, pouring them two glasses and bringing them back out to the living room.
Abel was bent over the disc player, sending the little drawer back into the machine. The TV was on, and after some fiddling while Nish was out of the room, set to the right input for the DVD player. He took a step back, accepting a glass from Nish while the machine spun the disc to the right place, an image coming over the screen.
BRUTAL DESIRES was cast in a ridiculous yellow font over the backdrop of a dark dungeon. Wooden walls climbed up and out of the camera's view, pillars with chains, hooks, and other malicious items hanging from their widths present, and as the main image panned to the right, a man hanging by his shoulders and torso from the ceiling could be seen. He seemed naked from at least the waist up, though all questions were dispelled as the image widened to show more. The camera initially came up behind him, showing the bondage wrapped around his arms; thick, white cord stood out against bronzed skin, twining around his arms, shoulders, and chest. Under his arms was a long pole, holding him aloft; as the image panned out, it was soon apparent that his legs were likewise tied to a twin pole, weighing him down.
Another man, dressed in just the tight pants and boots of a dominator, entered the scene from the right, one hand passing over the other man's shoulders with a delicate touch, soft but enough to make the hanging man shiver. That same touch moved down, over the man's back, to his buttocks, which he grabbed forcefully.
"You ready to get fucked?" The dom's words were more of a statement than a question, and before the hanging man could reply, the dom brought a paddle to his backside with a practiced motion, leaving behind a large, red mark on the hanging man's right buttock.
Nish chuckled at first at the campy opening to the movie, starting to protest that this wasn’t really what she was usually into, but she couldn’t look away. She frowned at the screen as the scene changed, a mixture of amusement and confusion on her features as the camera panned over a man tied to the ceiling that looked oddly familiar. She was about to conclude that she’d seen him in another video before, when finally there was a close-up of his face.
Her blood ran cold, a shiver coasting over her skin at the sight of Rafe there on the screen, trussed up and whipped by some nameless dom. She flinched as the paddle came down, harder than she would have ever allowed anyone to do to her. Her heart was thumping hard against her ribs as fear and adrenaline replaced any sort of amusement or arousal she might have been feeling. “Turn it off,” she said, maybe a little too quietly.
Abel heard, but pretended not to. He quietly sipped his wine, eyes darting between Nish's reaction and the tape, which he'd already watched (and enjoyed) in full. One hand went into his pocket, looking far too casual for the scene he'd carefully maneuvered Nish into.
Onscreen, the dom smacked Rafe again; his face winced, but he pleaded for more as the dom paced like a tiger around him. The dom eyed Rafe's hard cock, born of the painful pleasure he'd been dealt, one hand reaching out to run over the skin just above Rafe's member. He stroked the other man for a moment, his movements in turn both as harsh as he'd been with the paddle and somehow teasingly gentle, clearly not ready for the hanging man to be released in any way just yet.
He raised the paddle and smacked Rafe across the stomach, then each thigh, striking the second one twice in quick succession and pulling tears from Rafe's eyes. Rather than ask for mercy, Rafe thanked him profusely, his gaze hungrily watching the dom as he moved around behind Rafe again and undid his pants' zipper. Another hand reached out for a nearby winch, lowering Rafe a little so that the dom could bend him over and display his ass for receiving. Abel glanced back to Nish, noting every tick of movement on her face.
She couldn’t look away, her eyes glued to the TV as the scene played out, flinching occasionally as a particularly painful looking strike hit Rafe’s flesh. Finally, she’d had enough, closing her eyes and looking away. “I said turn it off.” Her voice was louder this time, and when he didn’t react fast enough she put her wine down and grabbed the remote, turning off the television to erase the images from the screen. She tossed the remote onto the couch, away from him, clenching her jaw. “I’m...that’s not what I’m into,” she said, as if that was the reason for her reaction.
"Could've fooled me," he remarked. "Was it the guy on guy? Because I know you like it rough." He sipped at his wine, draining it to half the glass.
Her stomach turned at his apparent ease in her space. “Not like that,” she said, looking away from him. Suddenly his presence seemed to grate on her, and she wanted nothing more than to get him away from her. “Look...this was a bad idea. I think you should go,” she said, still not looking at him, standing and walking towards the DVD player to remove the offending disc.
"Aw, c'mon," he started, his wine glass dangling from a spider-clutch of fingers as he started across the room to interrupt her. Still, he had what he'd come for, in spades. It simply would not do to make it seem as though she was making it easy on him. "You didn't even give it a chance. Never know what you're into until you try it, you know?" His glass went next to hers on the table, his hand coming to her upper arm, gripping it only a tiny bit harder than he had earlier. "You're a kinky bitch. Don't get shy on me now."
Her eyes snapped up to his, anger flashing in them. Her hand wrapped around his on her arm, prying his fingers off of her. “I am not your bitch,” she spat, pushing him away from her and snapping the CD in her hands. “And I said no,” she added, tossing the broken pieces of the disc on the coffee table.
If he at all bemoaned the loss of the CD, his face did not show it. Arm falling back to his side, Abel raised both hands in a peace gesture -- palms out, facing Nish -- and shrugged, taking a step back. "OK, fine. Can't say that I didn't try. You enjoy your solitude, since that seems to be your fucking default." It was a reference back to their second meeting, the one at CASKET, when he'd come across her alone at the bar. It matched every other meeting they'd ever had -- the first in the hall, the third in a court-appointed setting, the fourth alone in the library. Each instance had found Nish on her own, delving against some impossible task whether mental or otherwise, Abel lingering on the fringes, waiting for a chance to strike.
He smirked at her, taking another step backward. His hands fell to his sides. "Don't worry, I'll show myself out." She followed him to the door, making sure that he left, and then slammed it closed behind him, locking it. With a sigh she leant against the door for a moment, collecting herself, doing everything she could to banish the images of Rafe being abused on her TV, nails digging into her palms. After a moment Bear jumped down from the kitchen cupboards, back to his old self, rubbing against her leg and purring.
“Next time, remind me to listen to you,” she said to him darkly.