Re: [in-person: damian & misha]
Dead vegetation. [He smiled and it was bratty and superior. He held onto the cuff of his sock, not pulling it, and listened to Misha wax poetic about city life, rather than the isolation of his hollow. Holler. He enjoyed the description of the Capital, even if he did not feel nearly as nicely about it.] But, you miss the holler at times. When things are overwhelming. [Damian said it, as if to bring the topic back around for his own understanding. He nodded, as if he comprehended. Then, he picked at his sock and smiled at the press of lips to his jaw. He smiled slightly wider when Misha's fingers pulled as well.] Yes. It is who I am meant to be. [He did not know if it was true, but he believed it.] I have told you before. I am meant to eradicate the world of its plague. Humanity. [Damian was able to say this without any feeling at all, as one might explain the plot of a boring book. It was quotidian, mundane to him, and he regurgitated the words he had been fed since before his birth. But, yes, as for hollering:] I will have to consider my options.
[The demand of no more tickling was disobeyed, and Misha was insubordinate. Damian tried very hard not to simply kick his boyfriend as hard as he could in the belly to make him stop. Also, he laughed and whined out a,] Stooop, [as he tried to jerk his foot away from offending fingers.] I hate you. [He replaced the laughter with a lofty frown and lifted his chin, in spite of toes to belly.] And you do not think I am weak. [He finished the angel's failed argument and, now, when he did smile, it was triumphant. He enjoyed being right.—He pressed his wriggling toes to his boyfriend's dick then, and he watched with adoration and pride as the boy swallowed and moved away. He was pleased by the spectacle of the jump from the island, though he was an al Gol, so it was not as if he applauded. He just smiled to himself and slipped down, socked feet to tiled floor.] A plug, [he announced to the room,] for one's butt. [It was silly, but it was meant to be. Damian lifted the pan from the countertop and removed it to the sink. It was not how own properly took care of a cast iron pan, but he was not precisely worried about that. He filled it with soapy water and left it.
Damian cirlced back to Misha, if the boy had remained, and he hooked his arm in the other's. He leaned his weight against the angel. (Though not enough to slip on his socks.)] Habibi. [His smile, aimed upward, was crooked and wicked.] Tell me how you wish to fuck me.