[ Fucked up for that to be what melts the rime around John's heart, but hey. He is what he is. He looks at Danny, horny and desperate and bleeding and John's, kneeling with such aggressive yielding, and feels the same old fondness that had him trashing his reputation over this little murder machine back in Rubilyk. ]
At least let's do the other side, so you can suck your own dick.
[ It's hard to tell if he's joking. There are still servants hovering — if sir would perhaps like to move his conversation to a sitting room?
Sir would not. Sir can't stop thinking about them all split up, House trying to find him and Jem left behind alone, the kind of thoughts that rise bile up his worthless throat. ]
Maybe I want another bone this time.
[ He emphasises this by straightening Danny's wrist with sick wet crunches, realigning it to be knit back together, a cursory patch-job that he'll fix better later. Right now he's just proving a point, that Danny's body is his. ]
no subject
At least let's do the other side, so you can suck your own dick.
[ It's hard to tell if he's joking. There are still servants hovering — if sir would perhaps like to move his conversation to a sitting room?
Sir would not. Sir can't stop thinking about them all split up, House trying to find him and Jem left behind alone, the kind of thoughts that rise bile up his worthless throat. ]
Maybe I want another bone this time.
[ He emphasises this by straightening Danny's wrist with sick wet crunches, realigning it to be knit back together, a cursory patch-job that he'll fix better later. Right now he's just proving a point, that Danny's body is his. ]