Tuesday April 22nd 2008 Who: Erin and Dante When: Tuesday evening Where: Dante's Room What: Erin does the unthinkable -- she apologies and admits she was wrong. Rating: NSFW Status: Not quite finished... [OOC Note: Criss, thought we could continue in Gdoc then just add in comments as needed]
The air in the hallway outside Dante's room was chilly. Erin was nervous. If Nox was right, it meant she was wrong, and Erin hated being wrong about anything. The only thing she hated more than looking stupid was having to apologize for being stupid, and she was preparing herself just for that.
Dante's wild mouse had been a gift. Not an insult, but a gift. The way he had avoided her and didn't even bother to rub the joke in proved it. He had been trying to apologize, perhaps, for his flippant behavior last Friday. Right? It had to be that.. He was too immature to not ride a joke into the ground. For fuck's sake, he was still calling her kissyface, and that had been months ago! The image of his delicious abdomen with a hastily scrawled 'sup kissyface' brought a smirk to her features.
She swayed outside of his door on her heels and then knocked twice, sharply, before sliding her hands back into the pockets of her tightly fastened ankle length sweater coat. From beneath her legs were bare in silk slippers, and her chest and collarbone were exposed. She wore her hair in a loose tail at the nape of her neck, and her makeup was smudged, having been applied almost twelve hours before.
Not that Dante cared, at all, but Erin had been acting weird. He had been so proud of himself for thinking up something so clever as to grabbing her a unique, healed, cleaned, one of a kind pet. Ok, so it wasn't a rat, but they were all vermin and she liked the things so that could easily be overlooked. Although, apparently, he'd been damn wrong about that. She's just as good as chucked him from the room with her icy stare. It wasn't until yesterday that he'd pondered that maybe she'd been so pissed because it was something he'd caught and not bought from a store. Well that was just shallow! Roger's mom had always said that things you made were worth more then things you bought. Dante had scoffed at the notion, but Pam was a girl and Erin was a girl so he'd decided to chance it. Big mistake.
Now, tonight, Erin wanted to talk to him. Not yell, but talk. Maybe she would lecture him on why sewer mice were different then store mice, or why he was an idiot, or maybe (he hoped) why she was so goddamn crazy.
Opening the door, he nodded curtly at her and then went back into his room. On top of his dresser was no longer piles of his clothing (they were on Roger's bed now), but a ten gallon tank, inside of it a wheel, cardboard tubes and some kind of makeshift ladder/fort contraption, and a very busy looking fluffy brown mouse.
---
Erin strode in with false confidence, her head and shoulders high, and then paused. The mouse was in a tank. He'd kept it? He'd kept it. Hadn't he thought it was ... but he had said her rats were.... Why was he so damned confusing?
How to begin this? She sucked in a quick breath, and decided that plunging in was the best. Sink or swim, she thought. She sat down on his bed and looked up at him with wide grey eyes, her expression warmer than it usually was, even if the air she'd brought in with her was a little chilly. "I.... I think I misinterpreted what happened on Sunday," she began, biting at her lower lip and pulling the buttoned sweater around her tighter. "I had thought you brought over the little mouse to continue to downplay my ... feelings... about Nicodemus dying .. and to make fun of me, but after some time I began to conclude that perhaps you were being sincere."
She worked her hands together and shrugged, glancing up at him. "Seeing that you.. kept it.. just further proves how stupid I was," she added, softly, before looking over at the makeshift home he'd created for it.
---
The way Erin walked in, Dante thought this meeting might be on par with something at the Pentagon. She was determined, haughty, aloof. Crossing his arms, Dante leaned his hip against the desk and waited for whatever she was going to yell at him for. But as promised, she didn't yell. Instead she was... talking. She was admitting she was wrong (whaaaaat?) and seeming to want to understand what had gone down Sunday. That was kind of funny, because Dante hadn't thought all that much about it. He'd just assumed she'd hated the thing and was throwing a girl fit. Apparently a lot more had gone on. Women worked on too many levels.
"I didn't even think to make fun of you about it," he admitted, not to rub it in how dumb she was feeling, but almost as a justification as to why he might actually do something nice. "Though truth be told, that woulda been frickin funny." How had his mind not immediately gone there? With anyone else, even people he liked, he would have. How many times had he called them vermin and told her that rats belonged in sewers, not in prissy little cages? Damn, that would've been hilarious. And it would've seriously pissed her off, like it did. Only he hadn't meant to this time.
Shrugging, he stepped away from the desk. "Eh, whatever," he said after a moment. "No big deal." And that was all. She was forgiven, simple as that. "Wanna see Kissyface? I taught her how to dance."
---
That was it? Forgiven already? The simplicity of the situation was difficult for her to comprehend.
"I just hadn't been expecting ..." She continued, before her face drew into a pout of confusion. She stood up and crossed to him, looking between the mouse and back. "...you named it? You named it Kissyface?"
---
Now he was making fun of her, and clearly so. "Yep," he grinned, pleased as punch. "In honor of you." After Erin had tossed him out, he'd decided that the best way to get back at her without actually doing anything (because he was still a bit fuzzy on the "why" she'd been mad) was to name the thing she'd hated after her. That, and Kissyface had always seemed to annoy her, which made it even better.
---
Erin frowned, but then a thought struck her. Actually, a few thoughts, orignally separate, and now strung together to make one long..cohesive...theory.
Dante had brought her a mouse, in hopes of --well, perhaps apologizing for his lack of understanding. Then, he kept the mouse. Then again, he named the mouse. Dante had named another living creature -- one he apparently no longer thought vile -- and was now making it comfy with paper rolls and handmade ladders.
Was this progress? Part of his inarguable ascent to going from asshole to sometimes-asshole?
She blinked up at him with a strange smile. "It's cute."
---
Girls thought about shit waaaaaay too much.
"She's not cute!" he protested, even though the entire reason he'd picked that one instead of the others he'd seen was because she was definitely cute. "She's badass. She ate an entire paper towel roll!" Knowing nothing about mice, and until now not caring, Dante wasn't aware that this wasn't really an impressive feat for a mouse. All he knew was that she'd taken a non-food item and chewed the shit out of it and now it was gone, save a few scraps mixed in the shredded newspaper.
---
Erin stared at Dante and the mouse for a few seconds, resisiting the urge to reach up and pinch his cheek. The fact she even had this urge sort of frightened Erin, so she chose not to think too much about it. He was so silly! Mice did that all the time!
Her voice soft, she looked over at Kissyface's tank and said "Ehm...she would do better if you perhaps drilled very, very small holes into the plastic. They need more ventilation than reptiles...unless it's glass?" She added, tapping the tank with a french tip.
A disbelieving chuckle left her. "I have yogurt treats you can have for her. They love those. At least mine do." She doubted a wild mouse would argue. Her eyes turned up to him and she bit her lip. "So you're not upset at me?"
---
The tank was glass, but that didn't mean Dante wouldn't drill holes in it. Or maybe he'd get something else altogether, something that maybe little mice liked. Or maybe Kissyface would just have to deal with it because she was a damn mouse!
"Yogurt?" he asked skeptically. That seemed like something weird for something that ate cardboard to need. Still, Erin knew about these things. Dante wasn't sure why he'd kept the mouse. Maybe just because it had been such an effort to catch her, and then such a big deal when he'd tried to give it to Erin, that he figured he might as well hang onto to it. "I don't even eat yogurt my own damn self," he informed Kissyface.
---
She laughed, and something inside her sort of trembled. Her throat swelled, and she bit her down on her lower lip. He was being so...what? Then she realized and thought she might be sick. Cute. She thought he was being cute.
What is happening to you.
When he spoke to the mouse she laughed again and before she knew it, her hand reached out to glide along his. It wasn't a sexual touch, or even potentially sexual. It was just a warm gesture of genuine affection.
---
The touch sent a chill up Dante's arm, goosebumps popping out over his skin. It wasn't just because she was cold. But he could convince himself of it, and that's what counted.
He hadn't rightly answered her question. Maybe she didn't need one. Maybe she was being a girl and was saving it up for later, like something to use against him in a fight later. Well he had outsmarted her! He wasn't gonna let her get away with that crap! "I ain't upset at you," he told her flatly. "You've always been weird, no surprise anymore."
---
"Ah," she said, with a soft smirk, "so then I guess you don't want the rest of my apology."
With that, the slim hand that had been idly fingering the belt of her sweater coat tugged sharply on one end. The sweater fell open, revealing her to be wearing a slinky black nightie that left little to the imagination but covered enough to provide mystery.
She stayed where she was, pretending like she wasn't suddenly half dressed, and smiled slyly up at him.
---
Okay, so... he'd been wrong. Erin was still very, very capable of surprises. "Whoa," he mumbled, the best word that could be called forth from his brain. She looked... well obviously they both knew how she looked.
Stepping toward her, Dante managed to simultaneously scoop Erin into his arms and lift her by the waist, planting a kiss on her mouth as he carried her over to his bed. Hey, this was his apology, and while she'd done the reveal quite subtly and seductively, he didn't mess around when it came to messing around.
---
Erin chuckled into his mouth and returned the kiss, arms wrapped around his neck.
When she needed air, she rubbed his chest with chilly hands and smiled up at him, chest rising and falling quickly. "I like 'woah.'"
---
Like a horny teenager, Dante had them two of them on his bed in seconds, Erin tucked beneath his muscled body. "Fucking whoa," he growled hungrily, mouth moving to her neck instead of her lips, since she had that little necessity called breathing. Most people who lost the ned to breathe, such as vampires, took awhile to adjust to it, subconsciously pausing in such things in assumption they'd need to come up for air. Dante never needed time for that adaptation. Needing to breathe had always annoyed him.
He bit at her neck gently, though not without fervor, hands running over her soft skin. Women had done this kind of thing to impress him before, try to cement him, see if they could entice him to remain true. He never knew why they'd bothered because he had no intention of ever staying faithful to those bimbos. Nor did he have any intention to stay faithful to Erin. Granted, he hadn't even so much as made out with an IHOP waitress since they'd started dating, but that was barely the point!
His large fingers searched her body for clasps, hooks, a zipper, whatever it was that he needed to get this damned thing off her body.
---
It was far less complicated than that; it slipped right over her head. She displayed this alarming simplicity by gently pushing his hands away and wriggling out from under him while grasping for the hem. The slip was off her in moments, leaving her in pale pink panties that, while less show-offy than her previous pair, were still enticing.
Erin had been trying very hard to not think about the subject of Dante and fidelity. She refused to assume that Dante was going to be exclusively hers this way, when he wasn't, she wouldn't be disappointed. If she found that their relationship -- dear Fuck, this was a relationship -- needed that conversation they could have it, but until then she'd remain in denial.
She tossed the nightie aside and crawled toward him on her knees.
---
Dante's crystal blue eyes watched Erin's every move, his mind to filled with possibility to chide himself for not thinking of just tugging the damn thing over her head. No matter. Point was, she was pretty much naked and that needed his attention more. And the way she was crawling toward him, like a fucking porn star... Jesus.
It was coming down to the wire, decision time- take her rough or be gentle? Gentle never really appealed to him, but since she was doing this all showy and slow and seductive, maybe she'd be opposed to just being manhandled. Question was, did he really care what she wanted? He had to think about it a bit before he decided no, not really. Reaching a hand out he took her face in it, bringing her closer to him and crushing her mouth in a deep, fierce kiss.
---
Truth be told, Erin was going to be fine with whatever Dante wanted. She had been around long enough to learn to enjoy a variety of "styles" and "moods," and tonight she was simply in the mood to have makeup sex. If Dante wanted it rough, he'd get it rough. After all, this was her apology, right?
She was still caught by surprise, though, and sucked in a sharp breath with her nose even as she devoured his mouth with hers. Her petite frame -- at least, petite in comparison to him -- curled against him and she reached around to paw at his back, her nails creating pink lines on his skin through his tee shirt. "Your door is locked, right? No one.. popping in?" she purred, between kisses.
Erin loved the way Dante looked at her. The expression on his face when she opened her sweater made her skin tingle deliciously. He didn't try to play it cool when it came to wanting her. Hunger screamed in his eyes, and she adored it. It made her feel sexy, young, and wanted. All good things. Her skin was already becoming warming by gradual degrees.
---
Locked door? How could she think of things like that in such a moment? "Dunno," he murmured honestly, mouth working too hard to kiss her to give more response then that. He wouldn't ever admit how attractive he found her, would never say that she was absolutely stunning. Of course, he would never need to. The way he simply looked at her would be indication enough.
Dante pulled Erin totally beneath his body, an arm pinned to the bed beneath her back, keeping her frame pressed tight to his. He liked his women somewhat delicate, small enough to carry them around and move them however he wanted. He liked being on top, his body covering them, taking charge. His mouth moved from Erin's, trailing needily down the curvature of her neck, her shoulder, small nips leaving tiny pink marks on her skin as his teeth scraped over her, tongue darting out to taste her. In seconds his mouth covered her small, hard nipple, an obvious groan of pleasure emitting from his throat as he took the pink bead between his lips, teasing it with his tongue.
---
A sultry chuckle escaped her. He was so eager, so hungry. She grinned wickedly as his stubble scraped against her delicate skin. He was so easy to impress. She would have hated it years ago, but now, because time moved in circles, she found it amusing and delightful.
Dante pulled her under him with a quick flex of his arms and she let out a breathy moan. She liked that she was so petite against him; she didn't mind being put wherever, so long as when she wanted her turn, she would get it. A louder sigh of pleasure sounded when he closed his mouth over her nipple. Too good, he was too good at this.
Her hands roamed as he worked. "I'll have to keep this nightie in mind..." she gasped, arching against him, "the next time I need to win an argument." Then his tongue moved in a certain sort of conjunction with his hands, and her own frantic fingers finally slipped below his waistband and gripped him hard, her palm warmer than usual so as not to ruin the moment. When she felt the length in her grip she moaned again, into his ear.
---
Dante knew what women liked because, mostly, it was what he liked. He liked their sex noises and the way they yelled and arched themselves and ground their hips into him, so it had been easy and convenient to figure out what it was that made them do that. He wasn't a very gentle lover, so some little hisses were more pain then pleasure, but every time before Erin he hadn't given much of a damn.
At her comment about winning arguments, Dante snorted derisively. He didn't lose arguments. He just didn't. It was hardly ever because he was right, moreso that he fought to the death or simply refused to accept defeat. He had something smartassed lined up to say, a damn good comeback too, but it got lost in the firm grip of her hand around him. He growled, mouth releasing her breast a moment as the sensation shot through him. "Fuckin' hell, girl," he mumbled, moving up her body to find her mouth with his again.
---
She stopped grinning so she could kiss him properly, her free hand reaching up to hold his face, her thumb on his temple. Her other hand worked him in slow, long motions, reluctant to miss an inch. Girl? Did she like that? Yes, yes she did. She nibbled hungrily at his lower lip, pulling away and leaving a tingling sensation behind as she nestled back into his pillow. She snaked her other arm under him and undid his jeans, the busy hand never slowing or stopping, just keeping the same steady delicious pace.
With his jeans pushed down lower on his hips she had more room available, which improved the situation considerably. She trickled a slow moan, watching his face.
---
The look on Dante's face would be considered quite satisfactory to a woman who liked to see the effects of her advances. He was quite obviously enjoying every second of her strokes, his eyes closed and his fingers shaking. His skin was starting to vibrate, little blue sparks clipping off at the cuffs on his wrists. Roger had called them gay, Dante had called Roger gay, they'd punched one another. And now they were well serving their purpose.
Eager and unwilling to fuck around with too much foreplay, Dante pushed Erin's legs apart with one knee, moving himself between her thighs as he leaned down to bite gently into her shoulder, pushing the full length of himself inside her.
---
Erin gasped at the abruptness of it, but the sound trickled into a happy purr as she wriggled beneath him. The spot on her shoulder where he'd bitten down tingled. She hadn't been given enough time to properly heat up, so while her insides were hot, her skin was still cool to the touch. It was a delicious contrast, really.
He slammed into her again and again, and she let out a soft grunt, feeling her entire body rock upward a little. He was so big, so strong. Her head swam, disconnecting itself momentarily in a haze of lusty bliss. She pulled herself up to nuzzle his neck, then trail deeper and deeper kisses down to his chest, where she suddenly took a hard bite, just enough to make him notice, and laughed. "Fuck," she pleaded, her inner walls pressing against the entire length of them. Instantly, her skin was suddenly warm, and she let out a louder groan the neighbors would enjoy snickering over later.
The notion that this time might be a repeat of last time hadn't escaped Erin, however, and she sought to prevent that. She wanted to finish with him inside her, even if it meant momentarily taking her attention off him, just slightly, so she could speed things up for herself. Wearing a smile she was not aware, of the sinewy ice demon snatched one of his pillows and arched up, into him, sliding it beneath her hips to from a very different angle both of them would enjoy. As it turned out, she was right, and Dante's next plunge was reward with a feral hiss before she reached up to wrap her fingers around the bars of his headboard. "Dante," she mewed, which he would eventually learn meant 'I'm getting close' and 'you're amazing' all in one.
---
Erin was not the only one all too aware of last time's little mishap. While every back arch, moan and grinding of hips made it increasingly difficult to do so, Dante was focusing on keeping himself from finishing too soon. Later he'd be somewhat chagrined by this, mortified that he'd had to try and keep himself erect for the pleasure of a woman. One, because it meant that he'd even bothered considering the woman, and two because that meant he was jusf like every other two-pump chump he'd mocked for years.
Right now, though, his focus was just more on sustaining then on what it meant overall. Well that, and the way Erin's skin was cool under his fingers but her pussy walls were hot, wet and unbelieveably tight. It was impossible to keep the moans and growls contained. Fuck the neighbors. The guy next door had seemingly moved down the hall so it didn't matter how damn loud they were.
His name. It sent a wild chill through him how she said his name, the way her perfect lips formed it, the desperate pleading and demand in the word. He could feel her tighten around him, squeezing his shaft as though she was never going to let go. Propping himself up onto his hands, Dante drove hard into her a few times, them slowed his pace, drawing the strokes out, making her writhe under him. He knew she was close, and the smirk on his lips that he wore so well said that he was going to tease her with it first.
Unexpectedly, he slammed hard into her, full to the hilt, leaning close to press his chest to her as his hips rolled between her legs, quick and shallow thrusts rubbbing against her G spot. "I wanna fucking hear you scream," he growled in her ear.