the last of us

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"I knew you would say that," Neron snarks about the review, even if it isn't for real. As for the drinks, the Hailstorm mulls over the two options and eventually decides on the rum. "I prefer wine on the top shelf, but these cretins always go for the hard stuff," he remarks. Granted, that's probably because most of the cretins were Ascended and needed the kick.

Regardless, up go the bottles of rum, Neron turning to arrange the rest of the display with practiced ease. "What do you want me to do with this place when you go?" he asks suddenly, gazing over his shoulder at Sunjata and refilling his glass for him. It's an oddly candid question given that it's literal war they're talking about.

"I can lock and board the place up, but I don't know how it will fare," he continues. "If there is anything important, though, I can have it moved to the basement."

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

“They don’t tend to have your finer taste.” Sunjata agrees, sitting back in the bar chair, reaching into a pocket as the Ascended begins to put the bottles on the shelf. He withdraws a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches, ensuring Neron’s far away from him when he lights up, discarding the match when it’s flame is extinguished and takes a long slow drag off the cigarette, keeping it in his lungs a bit longer before he exhaled slowly through his nose.

It curls around his face as he debates the answer. “Important things should go in the basement. Anything incredibly important I will take with me.” He pauses, reaching over to slide the ashtray over to flick into as he goes to lean forward again. “Are you… Ready? Got enough tricks up your sleeves?”

SUNJATA

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"Few people do," Neron drawls, as if it's one of his biggest regrets. (It isn't - he likes his tastes rare and fine, thank you very much).

He subtly puts distance between them as well as Sunjata lights up; there's a reason the bar is about as far from the fireplace as possible in the VlamVloed, after all. But he does turn as the other man responds, leaning back against one of the prep stations and folding his arms across his chest.

"I can take care of that," he murmurs. "And I am offended, Sunjata. I am the trick," he says, raising his eyebrows across at the Flood, before something tightens in his jaw.

"I don't have anything in reserve, truth be told," he says. "It's a death sentence. We all know it, even if none of us want to say it. War comes and the Ascended are going to die. The only reason I'm not skipping off to the sanctuary to die in peace is because I figure it would suck to wait around."

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

His gaze rises to Neron as he turns to face him, listening, a soft hum of a laugh leaving his throat in a plume of smoke before Neron brings the mood down, not that the Flood can blame him. After all, what he says was Sunjata’s biggest fear. He thinks of Nate, of their promise for forever which seems just as unlikely as the rest of his relationships, and his jaw tightens too.

He looks down to the ashtray, flicking more ash down into it, watching it flutter as it lands in the pile. “Even if it is, don’t you want to go down fighting?” He asks, slowly lifting his gaze back to the Launceleyn. “And luckily for you I have all my shifts and Frey magic now, so, I suppose in the efforts of being a good boss trying to retain his employees, you can stock up.” He offers, arms settling on the bar as he puts out the cigarette and raises a brow toward the other man.

SUNJATA

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"Oh, I have every intention of going down fighting," Neron says with a scoff. "You aren't the only one with magic, remember. I'm more than just a few party games around the bar." Illusions and the ability to suck the life from those around him come in just as handy as the ice cubes, he finds.

But Sunjata has a point and even though it won't make a difference - even though it's all already over in the Hailstorm's mind - it can't hurt. And hell, if he's marching off to war in just a few more days, it might be nice to feel a little anything before then. "Are you sure? It'll take more than once to stock me up," he says, though he's already straightening up away from the bar.

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

“Oh I know.” Sunjata murmurs, “how could I have forgotten when my clothes stuck to the chair?” He drawls, amusement flickering in his gaze. He tries his best to bring the mood up, trying to make it seem less dour, which is tough given the realities of the war situation. In fact, as Neron straightens up and explains, Sunjata stands and slips out of the bar chair, moving around to the other side of the bar to meet the Ascended halfway, conveniently plopping himself into the chair and stealing it from Neron.

There’s a hum of a laugh and a shrug as he nods. “Of course I’m sure. Did you forget that I’m kind of the Ascended juicebox?” He raises a brow. “And I suppose, if you wanted to make it fun, we could always use the room.” He has those cuffs he carries with him on the off chance of needing a quick escape.

SUNJATA

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"We have fun here," Neron reasons with a shrug, though the memory does bring the ghost of a smile to his lips. Ah, those good old days, when the Ascended were still hated and ostracised, but they weren't actively being eradicated by the world. "Look at you now, though," he says; a Frey demigod in all his glory.

One offering him a fumble in the most famous room in the Grounds, in fact. The Hailstorm raises his eyebrows at that, steel blues following the other man around the bar until he's sitting before him. "We need to find a better term for that," he informs him with a scrunch of his nose. "I can't proclaim to enjoy the finer things in life and then accept a juicebox."

As for the offer itself, though, it doesn't take much consideration, and Neron nods before his mind can make it depressing again. "Only a fool would say no," he says, gesturing for Sunjata to take the lead.

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

He hums a sound of acknowledgement at being the Frey demigod now, quite a twist he’d never expected even in his wildest dreams. But there isn’t much else to say to that, a small smirk accompanying the jest Neron makes in turn about fine tastes. “I am selective, at least. I don’t just let anyone bite me.” A challenging look crosses his face, his scarred brow rising as he peers up at Neron.

But the answer is given and Sunjata reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pair of handcuffs, leaning forward to snap one of them onto the Hailstorm before the Flood connects it to his own wrist. It clicks and when it finally lands into place, the two of them suddenly find themselves not in the VlamVloed any longer but in the notorious sex room of the Hollowed Grounds. The warmth and the scent immediately hits him so abruptly that he has to take in a sharp breath, forgetting that their arms are still connected by the handcuffs.

SUNJATA

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

"Oh well that's good to know. I'd hate to be anyone's sloppy seconds," Neron drawls, as if he couldn't list a number of people he knows have had a taste of Sunjata (including himself) in the past few seasons alone. He's considering it, in fact, when the other man reaches out, and Neron has no idea what he expects - does Jata want to hold hands while they walk or some shit? - but as the click of a handcuff circles his wrist, he's perfectly speechless for a rare moment.

Don't worry, it doesn't last long.

"Now I am not one to kink shame, but this seems--" Cut off not only by the way the world fades and melts around them, but by the sudden crackle of heat and desire that floods through his body, Neron's remark dies in his throat. In truth, he very rarely has occasion to come here; he hasn't since Morgan, he doesn't think. And it's like someone has just breathed a gasp of life into him, the Hailstorm rolling out his shoulders and lifting a hand, only to find it still tethered to Sunjata.

"You have sex teleportation handcuffs," he says, his voice sounding far away, even as his free (literally) hand reaches out for the scruff of Sunjata's shirt. "Just... in your back pocket. For emergencies." A breathy laugh escapes his throat, but he's already drawing the other man forward to meet his lips in a kiss, heedless to ignore the euphoric feeling of... well... feeling.

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

“Seems what?” Sunjata breathes, the second they’re in the room and the senses take over. It’s a rush, as if the blood flushing his skin. “Of course I do, I’m the sex Frey demigod who may need a quick escape.” It’s a playful drawl as he suddenly remembers that they’re handcuffed together. “And maybe a bit of tension relief.” He follows it up with a wink.

He doesn’t care as Neron’s hand finds his shirt, pulls him in and the Flood slightly stumbles forward, catching himself as he leans down ever so slightly to meet Neron’s lips. He pushes forward, the arm still handcuffed to Neron’s aiding in his attempts to push the man further back toward the bed while the other loops around his middle and Sunjata starts to burn under his clothes.

He breaks the kiss when he needs breath, chest heaving. “So, how many bites did you need?” He purrs.

SUNJATA

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

Melting against Sunjata is easy, and backing up towards the bed even easier. What's less simple is attempting to unbutton the Flood's shirt with only one hand, but Neron manages it in time. "I think between us there's more than a bit of tension in need of relief," he remarks, long fingers trailing down the length of Sunjata's bare chest even as Neron sinks down to sit on the bed and gaze up at him.

"As many as you're willing to give me," he purrs in return, a sly smile on his face while his touch continues to trickle down towards the other man's belt. "My upgrade stores three, though, if that is what you mean." Which, unfortunately, he's pretty sure Sunjata does. "I might need both hands at some point, though, unless you have other plans."

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

Neron deftly begins to unbutton Sunjata’s shirt, the cloth pulled down along his shoulders, tugged against his arms as he seems to corral the other man toward the bed. A low rumble of a chuckle leaves him with the admission of a lot of tension being relieved — and yes, he can certainly feel it in the tension of his pants, straining for relief. It doesn’t help the way Neron’s cool hand continues to trail down his chest, down along his stomach, aiming for the most sensitive part of him, his cock already straining against the material of his pants.

He remains standing, looking down at Neron through a half lidded gaze when the request is made. “Mm, I suppose you’re right.” He reaches into the back pocket of his pants for a different set of keys, one with a smaller key in which he lifts their connected arms, shoving it into the cuff attached around Neron’s wrist and unlocking it, letting the cuff dangle from his own hand far past caring.

Besides, they’re already here. It’s not like those cuffs will transport them back anyway. “In the meantime, though, you can store up with as many extra as you’d like.” He murmurs in terms of the bites, his freehand moving toward Neron’s own shirt, crowding the space to unbutton it and slip it off, about the same time he completely sheds his own shirt.

SUNJATA

liars and lovers combine tonight, we're gonna make a scene

Neron is right, and it's something he's very pleased about (and used to); he only pauses in his unbuckling of Sunjata's belt so the other man can release him from the handcuffs. As soon as he's free, his fingers tuck into the waistband of the Flood's pants to tug him closer - close enough so he can lean in and press slow, sensual kisses along the lines of muscle that plunge straight beneath his clothes.

"How very generous of you," he purrs, pulling Sunjata's belt free and discarding it - along with his own shirt - before working on the buttons of his pants. "I'm pretty sure I know the answer to this, but you don't care where or about the scars?" Working through the practicalities is very boring (not to mention increasingly frustrating when Jata's cock is right there), but at least once it's out of the way, he can throw caution to the wind.

Neron

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

He works the cuffs off and sheds his shirt and Neron’s, tugged closer by his waistband of his pants, a fact that Sunjata shivers with contently. As do the kisses pressed along the muscles that lead down below his belt line.

There’s a low rumble of a laugh, a huff of a purr as his belt is slipped off and discarded, a pile of clothes made quickly on the floor. His pants buttons are the next work in progress, Sunjata leaving his own arm still snagged by a loose open cuff as his other hand lifts to rake through the Launceleyn’s blonde hair, trailing along the edge of Neron’s cheek to his jaw. “I don’t care at all.” He purrs, crowding Neron’s space a bit more, planting his feet before he starts to work on shedding his pants, sighing at the relief it brings his length from the restraint of the clothing.

SUNJATA