pleasuretoburn (pleasuretoburn) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-11-02 22:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | noah restic, ~roman skye |
Chaos Beget Chaos
Who: Roman/Noah
Where: Las Vegas, Noah's Place
When: Post-Samhain
Ratings/Warnings: Medium, Some Suggestiveness, Evil Talk
It was funny how easy it was to forget about the events of yesterday. Roman brushed it off as if it hadn’t happened at all, and while his contact list had become a bit lighter in context, he already had another name or two added into its index. That was the problem with connections, he learned. Not everyone was interested in trying to keep them.
But his investments lay elsewhere.
The Navigator eased into the lot of Noah’s building. They’d texted; meeting seemed like Heaven and a bit of friendly satisfaction would be a bonus. Roman was always down for a bit of fun, especially when it was the sort that permitted direct contact.
He never minded the trek to the apartment itself. Clutching a black plastic bag under an arm, Roman approached the familiar doorway and paused to knock.
Noah heard the knock from his seat in the living area. He stood from the leather sofa and crossed the room, opening the door and seeing Roman standing there in his typical, confident fashion. “Do come in,” he said, sweeping an arm, his lips twitching in amusement. It was stunningly easy to convince the lawyer to make these visits. The pyrokinetic beckoned, and the other man arrived, all the while thinking it had been his idea in the first place.
“What’s in the bag?” he asked, walking back into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of red wine off the rack on the counter.
“For you, of course,” Roman purred.
He set the bag down on the counter in the kitchen for Noah, letting him open it when he was ready. Inside was a handle of a small batch bourbon that would keep even a penguin warm during colder times. Roman didn’t mind planned or impromptu meetings with Noah, as long as it wasn’t interrupting either of their work.
Lately, though, he was worried that he was becoming far too attached to the pyrokinetic. While splitting from people typically didn’t have much of an impact on him, the request from Ro had hit him harder than he’d liked and he had a feeling the same would occur should he and this one decide to part ways, too. Too soft, he was growing far too soft and that was dangerous.
“You shouldn’t have.” Noah opened the bag, looking at the bourbon appreciatively. The wine could wait. He removed two beveled rocks glasses from a cabinet, opened the amber liquid, and poured one for the both of them. He handed Roman a glass.
“Do you know what I like about you, Roman?” the pyrokinetic asked spontaneously.
“Besides my confidence and stunning good looks?” Roman countered, teasing. He shrugged his shoulders in a causal manner as if to say he had no idea what, out of the plethora of things Noah had to choose from, what singular thing was on the other man’s mind.
“And, I wanted to.” The bottle had called out to him from the shelf and he couldn’t pass it up as a gift for his favorite person. The glass was taken, he sipped from it and savored the taste. It was worth every penny paid.
Noah took a long drink of the bourbon, the alcohol going down like fire. He liked it. Roman always seemed to know what he would like. “You’re completely perfect from the outside looking in,” he told the lawyer, swirling his glass. “Perfect looking, perfect job, money. Manners. The clothes.”
He took a step toward the other man. “But inside, there’s darkness. I think you’ve only scratched the surface of what you’re capable of.” Noah reached out and unfastened one of the buttons on Roman’s impeccable shirt.
“You should meet a friend of mine,” the pyrokinetic mused. He was thinking of Elfleda, then.
Those words made him brighten visibly, though his grin took on a bit of a predatory look. “I’m glad that you think so.” He was. Thrilled to pieces. He had been groomed for years, all of his life really, to portray everything that Noah pointed out.
But the darkness, that wasn’t new. It had been there since day one, but until recently Roman hadn’t known exactly what it was. Not until Noah showed him. “A friend, hm?” He could always use another friend.
“Tell me about this friend.”
“She calls herself Lady Elfleda,” Noah told Roman, his smile growing. He could see that look in the other man’s eye, and he wanted to pull more of that out. He wanted to swim in it. Make the lawyer like him, make him understand, and accept. He was sure the Dark Lady would think along those same lines.
“She can provide things, show you things that you would only dare to dream of. You can have everything you want.” The pyrokinetic’s own eyes were alight as the words spun out of him like a web. “Help you collect the most powerful people to use at your disposal.”
Lady Elfleda. That was a new one. “And what does she give you?” He inquired. The hand not holding the glass of bourbon would find a place on Noah’s face, settling at the jaw and cheek. “How do I find her?”
While the offer sounded lucrative, he needed to go over the terms. “And where does that leave you and I the grand scheme?” Noah had power, and while they weren’t exactly exclusive he knew that their back and forth meant a little more than a business deal by now.
“Don’t worry, she’ll find you when it’s time.” Noah tilted into Roman’s touch, knowing that’s what he wanted. It was a dance, each one giving a little bit more at a time, just so they could each feel like they were in control. He could play that game.
“She gives me power, through a witch she introduced me to. You might meet her, too.” And where did that leave him and Roman? Noah grinned at that.
“Where do you want us to be?” the pyrokinetic asked. “I quite like our current arrangement, don’t you?”
“I do like our current arrangement,” he nodded. “It’s safer this way for both of us, while allowing a bit of physical flexibility.” Strings could get messy, tangled, and the idea of a solid commitment frightened him due to his upbringing. Control was in the eye of the beholder and he also knew he was no match for Noah’s prowess and actual power.
“Then we keep it,” he said simply. Then Noah leaned up and pulled Roman into a hungry kiss. He didn’t mind not having a commitment. It was more fun this way, and he knew that he held sway over the other man. That was enough for him. For now.
Roman devoured Noah’s mouth. The kisses were hot, passionate. It didn’t matter what else was going on, he was here with Noah and not even work could distract him just then. The idea that power lurked for the taking was a bonus, it seemed Noah was worth having as a friend. They were using each other, they both knew that, but there were mutual benefits.
“Until you say otherwise,” the lawyer murmured into another series of kisses.
“I won’t,” Noah answered sharply. His fingers curled into Roman’s perfect hair. He liked seeing it disheveled, uneven. A small thing. A tiny imperfection that he had caused.
“I want to see how far we can go,” the pyrokinetic added. “What we can accomplish.”
Chaos beget chaos.
Those fingers tussling his perfect hair were dangerous and yet he craved the touch from them. “I have a feeling we could get quite far before the inevitable burn out,” he murmured, teasing. His glass was set aside and Roman withdrew his hand from Noah’s face, letting his palms slide down the pyrokinetic’s front. “You certainly are a world of trouble, aren’t you?”
At the mention of burnout, Noah smirked knowingly. He watched Roman’s hands drift downward languidly. “I think you were looking for trouble,” he answered. “And I just happen to be very good at providing it.” He set his own bourbon down. Ready for anything.
“Yes,” he murmured, laughing softly. “You are indeed.” It was intoxicating. Noah exuded danger, power, many things that Roman was not yet yearned to be. That was where the magnetism came, that struggle to be more with as much as possible to play on the same level.
Fingers worked over Noah’s shirt patiently.