Davian & Kane
"What?" Davian barked in a demanding voice, as though Kane had just said something crude. The question caught up to him and Davian looked down at his suit. Somewhere lost in his room were the shoes he was supposed to wear that night, but instead, Davian had slipped into his usual worn out broken laces work boots. All the rest, at least, was in keeping with the theme. He'd tugged his tie loose the first five minutes of arriving with Ambriel and his jacket was missing, probably for good. But he looked fucking good, if anyone asked him.
"At least you got good taste." A smirk came back to Davian's lips and he wet them, smugly pulling himself up a little straighter. Davian's clawed hands raked back his hair to hide the jagged horn remnants. He was always self conscious of them around Kane. They were a mark of the shame he wore of being exiled from the commune. The envious glance at Kane's wings made him frown. "Nice flappers," he commented gruffly, nonchalant like he was bringing up the weather. "You any good at flying?"