[ At least mead wasn't a flammable beverage. Harry's fingers wrap around the bottle, bringing the rim to his lips to chase the drink straight from the bottom. One big swallow for courage, even though the world's already gone fuzzy around the edges and the only thing he can focus on is the bizarre, crisp lines of John's face. He drops the bottle back to the table with a dull thump, and takes a moment to comprehend the vulnerable state of John's throat.
Harry's bitten out throats before. He knows he's not above it, if the situation calls for such. And he's still an animal, whether he keeps himself bound in chain or silk ribbon, he bites hands that try to feed him if he doesn't like the debt attached to the meal. The world revolves, and he comes back to the idea of breaking fast with John once more. Subtle ironies, and damn them both. ] Okay, hang on to your shiny-ass cufflinks. This is going to blow your mind.
[ The only way this is to go down is with Harry's fingers curling against John's, his other hand curling over the edge of the table closest to the man's hip. With his mouth ghosting close to that ruined ear as he speaks one thick-voiced secret for him alone, because if they're going to continue walking in circles around each other, he might as well cycle back around to what started this. Like he's planned it. ] Sometimes, I catch myself wondering whether or not I reeeeeally hate you, or whether I just don't want to have been wrong all this time.
Funny innit? I mean -- [ It's about then that he throws himself back, laughing hard as though he's realized the punchline of a joke that's practically a decade old and started in the backseat of a car, while he was late to an appointment. Like all he's got left is to laugh it off, because if he doesn't he's going to cry, and nobody cries in front of their archenemy. Right? ] Isn't that hysterical!?
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timeasmymeasure
kgddgnd what can i say you bring out the best in me? :D
Date: 2012-10-31 08:24 pm (UTC)Harry's bitten out throats before. He knows he's not above it, if the situation calls for such. And he's still an animal, whether he keeps himself bound in chain or silk ribbon, he bites hands that try to feed him if he doesn't like the debt attached to the meal. The world revolves, and he comes back to the idea of breaking fast with John once more. Subtle ironies, and damn them both. ] Okay, hang on to your shiny-ass cufflinks. This is going to blow your mind.
[ The only way this is to go down is with Harry's fingers curling against John's, his other hand curling over the edge of the table closest to the man's hip. With his mouth ghosting close to that ruined ear as he speaks one thick-voiced secret for him alone, because if they're going to continue walking in circles around each other, he might as well cycle back around to what started this. Like he's planned it. ] Sometimes, I catch myself wondering whether or not I reeeeeally hate you, or whether I just don't want to have been wrong all this time.
Funny innit? I mean -- [ It's about then that he throws himself back, laughing hard as though he's realized the punchline of a joke that's practically a decade old and started in the backseat of a car, while he was late to an appointment. Like all he's got left is to laugh it off, because if he doesn't he's going to cry, and nobody cries in front of their archenemy. Right? ] Isn't that hysterical!?