rotting like a wreck on the ocean floor

The claws against Loren's hip caused him to smirk. [say]"Wrong question."[/say] Leaning forward, he whispered seductively and challengingly in Sunjata's ear. [say]"The question is whether you can take it."[/say] The healer returned to his previous position, breath hot against the bartender's lips. [say]"I'm not convinced."[/say]

Then the Launceleyn closed the distance between them once more. There wasn't anything gentle about the kiss: it was hunger and passion, made bold by liquid courage. Almost immediately, he sought out the other man's lower lip, worrying it between teeth that didn't particularly care if they drew blood. Similarly, Loren's fingers dug into the Sunjata's thigh almost painfully, before they began to creep forward towards the bartender's crotch.

Oh, so Loren has learned a few things… Or maybe it’s the alcohol speaking. He doesn’t know, isn’t sure if he cares, not as Loren’s hungry and devouring kiss meets him again and he shivers internally with the possessiveness of it, with the way the summoners fingers dig into his thigh, traveling up and up, and for a second Sunjata thinks about letting him — thinks about how this might be the second time a bars involved and they’ve had some form of intimacy.

But that thought pangs something deep and painful within him, dousing any flame that may have started, and he pulls away from Loren with a shuddering gaze, a shake of his head, removing his hands from the summoner. “[say]I can’t do this with you, Loren.[/say]” It’s breathless, something akin to a dark and deep pain flashing in his eyes. Because seeing the man like this reminds him too much of the missing piece that’d settled between them, and he can’t seem to get past it.

As Sunjata pulled away, Loren smirked triumphantly. [say]"Can't? Or won't?"[/say] Though the bartender might've removed his hands from the healer, he kept his right where they were. Leaning forward, he whispered in the other man's ear again. [say]"Guess you can't take it after all."[/say] With that, the Launceleyn chuckled and leaned back slightly.

Then, however, his expression darkened. [say]"Why not?"[/say] The hand on Sunjata's hip lifted to the scratches on his arm. The healer dug into them, not enough to draw blood again, but definitely enough to cause a bit of pain. [say]"Why the fuck not, Sunjata?"[/say] The hand on the other other man's chin dropped, scratching against Sunjata's neck. The Launceleyn let it rake down the other man's chest until the fingers came to the bartender's nipple. Loren twisted, uncaring who was watching and what Sunjata's reaction might be.

The taunting doesn’t get to him, really. He could care less what the summoner thinks. Whether Sunjata can or can’t take it, it doesn’t matter — because what happens next is what causes his gaze to narrow at Loren, when the attuned pulls his hands away from the summoner and Loren keeps his as they are. He shifts a small amount in the seat, until fingernails are scratching along the scratches already on his arm and Sunjata’s jaw clenches.

“[say]You know damn well why.[/say]” It’s a growl as Loren doesn’t take his hands off him, moving along his neck, over bites and marks already there, but as the hand begins to drift lower toward his chest — that’s when Sunjata pushes away from Loren, lips curling into a sneer, trying to get some form of distance between them without actually getting out of his seat. “[say]Back off.[/say]” He hisses, giving Loren a chance to do as he says, hoping that somewhere within the summoner does listen.

Oh Loren listened, and he snorted as Sunjata pulled away. [say]"Fine. I don't really know why, but your loss."[/say] Reaching out with now free hands, the healer plucked up his mug and took a long drink from it.

Then he gave the bartender a mocking toast. [say]"Congratulations. You found the one line you wouldn't cross, the one person you wouldn't sleep with."[/say] Drinking again, the Launceleyn slammed his mug back onto the bar. [say]"Guess I don't meet your low standards."[/say] The taunting and seductive tone had slipped away, leaving something ugly and dark in its place. His fingers grew white-knuckled around the mug and he turned so he didn't have to look at the other man.

Finally Loren does take his hands off him, and Sunjata’s muscles clench with the release of some of the tension. He doesn’t care to tell Loren the reason, not after that, no. He watches briefly as the summoner continues to talk, continues to spout things about low standards and the one person, which wasn’t true. His jaw clenches and he too turns away from the summoner to stand from the bar. “[say]Right... Because you’ve got to be the top of the list on everything, yeah? You want a trophy?[/say]” Some mocking tone in his voice at that.

“[say]Enjoy Torchline.[/say]” it comes out clipped and Sunjata shifts to his avian form, hovering briefly in the air to get a feeling for the current, before flapping his wings loudly and slips out the open door into the night, leaving behind a navy feather in the seat he’d occupied while his mind whirls with ‘what the fuck’ over and over again.

— fin!