My Idea of Fun

NATE

There is something he needs to gather. A handful of somethings, actually, none of which Nate can call to mind at the moment, but going out to gather something seems as good an excuse as any to leave the safety of his home, to wander out onto the beach, away from the crowded bustle of Haulani, from her glittering eyes and dangerous hands, and in a different direction. A good choice for a handful of reasons, though the only that doesn't occur to him is that walking into town naked as a lark would damage his reputation in more ways than his own thoughtless hands ever could.

The sun sits high in the sky, larger than it should be, beating down on bare skin in a way that Nate only really registers because of the way it stirs unease in his gut, the way it sends his one-eyed gaze flying all around him, searching for the source. There is an umbrella clutched in his hand like a sword; like it could save him, if he could only trust it enough to open it. If he could only trust the shadows enough to step into them.

Miana pool catches him off guard as the beach gives way to its rocky shore, some distant memory stopping his feet before he steps into it, before he sinks deeper and deeper, spiralling into a starry void. Though, perhaps he wants that? Nate drops to his knees, none too gently, and reaches out for the pool, his hand hovering over the surface when he catches sight of his reflection instead.

At once, he's distracted, the warped, rippling image of his face splitting his mind, half of him terrified of the dead, of a matching face that still makes his breath hitch, and the other half utterly enchanted, looking over strong cheeks and a wide smirk and seeing an equal, at least for a night, an hour. "Hello there." He purrs out loud, leaning forward. "Have we met?"

We live for the night's decor
It reveals what we dream of

There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day

Go find Nate, Vervain had said, her sharp tone leaving no room for you to protest.

Even though you really would rather not be assed.

A few firm questions give fewer useful answers, but eventually you're told that he headed off towards Miana Pool. It's hot as Frey's ballsack by the time you make it out there, and you really couldn't be in a much worse mood. Babysitting the fucker who beat up Jack is very far from any of your chosen hobbies. He's lucky that Vai's such a good lay.

He's kneeling by the water with an umbrella in his hands, which, okay, whatever. More importantly he's buck-ass naked, which is not an image you needed or wanted, though it bothers you far less than it might others. You of all people understand the appeal of a naked swim.

"Oi! Nate!" Your voice barks out over the sound of the ocean as you trudge your way closer, arms crossed over your chest. "C'mon- let's getcha back inside. Maybe find some pants."

And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?

zephyr

NATE

Nate may have gone through all kinds of hell, may have lost an eye, but he's still got it. He can still charm anyone he wants to, and he's just about to seal the deal, leaning in towards his reflection, when a bark interrupts him. God, he can hear the record scratch in his head, the moment shattering before he turns, glaring at the voice's owner. Sighing, Nate leans back in towards the pool, muttering a nasally "This'll just take a second, sweetheart." before he pushes himself to his feet, umbrella left forgotten on the ground.

"Zephyr, buddy, pal." Walking forwards, Nate stretches his arms out, a casual swagger to his step before he reaches out to try and wrap an arm around Zeph's shoulders. "You're fucking all kinds of things up for me, man, what're you doing?" There's a definite whine in his voice, before the other man clicks something back into place in Nate's memory.

Ducking away, Nate turns on stumbling feet and grins wide at the other man. "You didn't have to come out. It's decent of you though." His one eye slides across the horizon, following something into the distance before he snaps back, shaking his head. "Maybe you're not the cocksucker I thought you were." Nate snorts, stifling a laugh so he can continue. "I'm still the cocksucker you thought I was." The punchline is addressed just over Zeph's shoulder, giggles overtaking Nate, doubling him over.

We live for the night's decor
It reveals what we dream of

There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day

It takes all of 0.7 seconds for you to regret interrupting him, and not just because it would have been hilarious to watch him make out with the pool. He lunges at you and you step back, still very reluctant to touch the infected, a scowl on your scarred face. "Zeph," you snap back in correction, wondering who told this asshole your full name. As for what you're doing? Fuck if you know.

He's zinging around like a hel who's gotten a sip of vodka, ricocheting from place to place and moving pretty much nowhere at all. You watch it all with your frown steadily deepening, not bothering to hide your irritation. "Ay, I'm sure ya are," you grumble as the great fool doubles over giggling, as though he's made some genius joke.

You step forward and then stop, remembering that you don't want to touch him because who fucking knows where he's been. "Aite, cocksucker- I don' wanna fight ya, so let's head back nice an' easy, eh? It's too fuckin' hot for anythin' else."

And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?

zephyr

NATE

Something about Nate deflates, just a little bit, with the immediate snap in Zeph's voice, the ascended's lower lip sticking out just a bit before he spoke. "What's wrong with the -hyr?" Nate wonders out loud, not expecting to get an answer from the other man, not with how snappy he's being.

"Head back?" Now that didn't sound right, not by a long margin. They had something to do out here. Nate digs his feet into the sand resolutely, not caring that he's facing the wrong direction to really drive his point home. "No no no no no! I have someone waiting, aaand, and..." Lifting his arms, Nate raises them both above his head, trying to add as much drama as possible to his next argument. "We still have an old adventure! Or, wait..." A hand rose to stroke at his chin as he through, trying to work backwards to find his error. "Whole. Whole adventure." He nods, now confident in his wording.

Zeph's words are still ricocheting around his head though, and finally, they shake loose a little more understanding, though not what he needs. "Are we... you wanna fight?" Nate throws his head back to laugh loudly, every part a cliche action movie villain, save for the part where he tips too suddenly, and nearly falls back. He manages to catch himself, barely, then spreads his feet, fists coming up in front of his sharp grin.

We live for the night's decor
It reveals what we dream of

There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day

This is getting a bit ridiculous. "An' what kinda' adventure might that be?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to glare hard enough to pierce through his fevered, insane brain. "Far as I remember, you owe me at this point, an' yet here I am helpin' yer ass." It's said as much for yourself as for him, because you very much doubt he's in a position to remember the debt you agreed to take on his behalf (Why? Why? You idiot, Zephyr, going out on a limb for a no-good fuckwad of a neck-biter-!).

Rae's tits, things were so much easier before the Outlanders showed up.

You're almost disappointed when he doesn't fall on his ass, because at least that would be entertaining. The fisticuffs are met with a raised eyebrow; you look between the fists and his face, frowning at the undressed man. "You gon' fight me, kiddo?" you ask sardonically, not feeling particularly intimidated by this thread. You should, because he's objectively stronger than you and also literally mad, but that's a lesson for Future Zeph to learn.

And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?

zephyr

NATE

Nate’s grin doesn’t falter, no matter how obstinant Zeph is being, how he seems to know and not know what it is they’re doing. Hands move, flailing about in an entire silent conversation before the reminder of a debt comes up, and Nate stops, face the picture of utter glee. ”That’s the adventure! The... the things, for my eye, an eye for an eye, ‘cept... I guess I owe you two eyes now.” Not a pretty place to be in, when he only had one, Nate’s face dropping again as he worked through what to do, how to even this out.

Only one thing for it, really. ”Fuck off Zeph. Don’t need you, not doing double eyes.” He can’t exactly muster up much malice, nothing more than a sneer, but it gets the point across.

Even Nate isn’t exactly sure what his plan is when his fists raise, uncertainty stilling him into a solid, sickly statue. He could topple either way, but Zeph’s words goad him in, teeth bared as he rushes forwards suddenly, fist drawing back to strike as he does. The thing about only having one eye though, on top of being sick, is that his depth perception is a little skewed, the other man closer than Nate expects.

Down they go, like dominoes, Nate writhing the whole time like he isn’t sure what kind of trick Zeph’s pulled. ”Didn’t know you fought dirty!” Comes the snarl, the ascended rising up, just to sink down again. Two can play dirty, and he’s got the teeth to do some damage. Teeth that do something else too, but that’s a fact that he doesn’t remember until it’s too late, until he’s already bitten (into a shoulder, he thinks?), until the hands that were trying to hold Zeph down on the sand start to scrabble at him instead, trying to pull him closer.

We live for the night's decor
It reveals what we dream of

There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day

So, you might have miscalculated the whole goad the sick Ascended into a fight plan, because it turns out you were not ready for him to actually attack.

Initially you figure you'll sidestep and dodge the punch you expect to come for your face. Thing is, it doesn't come at your face, and instead the much thiccer larger man sort of topples into your bad shoulder, causing you to shout in pain and go down beneath his ponderous bulk. A series of remarkably colorful expletives leave you in a panicked, incoherent snarl, and you reach up to try and shove the fucker off of you.

That's when he bites down on your upper arm. Hard.

"Son of a fucking shit-titted rhampire-loving cunt!" It's half howl, half moan, as the familiar wave of arousal courses through you, tenting your pants and making you squirm uncomfortably on the sand in a weak attempt to flail out of his grasp. "Get yer fuckin' fuck teeth outta my fuckin arm!"

And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?

zephyr

NATE

For a single, blissful moment, pleasure runs unchecked through Nate's body, the dryness in his throat finally beginning to fade, even if it's nowhere near slaked, not yet. The illusion of tranquillity shatters almost immediately, as soon as Zeph begins fighting, tearing away the illusion piece by piece, until finally, the wool is gone from Nate's sense.

Oh. Oh no. To say that sense returns to Nate would imply he had some to begin with, but something seems to get through the haze of thirst and sensation, something all but physically shoves him back. Teeth out of arm, just like that. Even if he doesn't fully rise, even if his furrowed gaze keeps slipping from Zeph's face back to his shoulder, his throat. Even if his head dips like he's going to lose himself again. "But... why?" If there's one thing Nate knows, it's that the bite feels good. Really good. What more reason than that do you need to indulge? "Why are you yelling?"

In little bits and pieces, Nate continues to rise, until he's sat up straight, still straddling Zeph, but not really holding him down anymore.

We live for the night's decor
It reveals what we dream of

There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day

"Because ya fuckin' bit me, ya gods-damned dick-waddling toothy piece'a soggy kelp." You might have sounded more indignant but your tone is somewhat belied by the fact that your face is flushed with lingering pleasure, and your voice is something of a thready moan. And maybe a little bit of you wants him to lean back over and bite you some more, and also maybe you have a bit of a boner and he's straddling you and your pants are thin and you can absolutely feel your cock pressing against his ass and-

--and nope. Nope nope nope. That's a good bit of nope.

With a surprising amount of panicked strength you shove the man off of you, scrambling away through the sand and quickly rising to your feet. There's blood falling from your arm in a slow trickle; smacking a hand over the wound, you glare back at the man. "Y'know what? Fuckin' find yer own way home. I'm done." And with that you turn away and stomp back towards town, praying for your erection to subside and only a little light-headed.

{fin!}

And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?

zephyr