[He takes a couple of shaking breaths, still so aware of that pain in his arm but determined not to show it. His forearm is slick with blood now, the towel deep red.]
[he moves in, dangerously close, not quite nuzzling him as their lips almost meet. He's breathing hard, tension between them shooting through like electricity.]
[It won't be you if it's gone. That's his sick, deep down fear, that he can't be himself without the need for violence. To hurt someone, even, not just violence.]
I tried to kill you. [Again. But this time there was no back up plan.]
[Cole's seen and felt Petre's strength. He knows for a fact that the demon held back tremendously during their fight. Whatever happened here was because he wanted it to. Cole lost control while Petre held it the whole time.]
It's okay. Nobody has to know. You can pretend with them.
[But he doesn't stop. He holds both sides of Cole's neck, digging his fingers softly into his hair, pressing painfully light kisses to his jawline, his temple, his cheek, and finally his lips. Foreheads tucked against each other when he closes his eyes, disturbingly sweet and quiet.]
You'll keep an eye out for me. I'll keep this secret for you.
[It feels obscene, being treated this gently after what he's done. But it's more comfort, and he's so lost, not sure how he'll manage without this outlet but not wanting to be the sort of man who needs it anymore. He's changed a lot, hasn't he? He's changed. But always with Petre offering a body to bite and scratch and toss around and now choke.
He doesn't know if he can walk without that crutch.]
Never let it go that far again. [Because Petre does have control, and he allowed that to happen.] Never.
[It's clearly something they need to talk about. It's something he wants to keep happening, but if it'll only serve to freak out the man who choked him - terms need to be set.]
[He looks up sharply, breaking that warm contact where their foreheads met.]
I don't care if I can kill you or not. If it looks like it, if it's anything like it - [What? What does Petre do?] - stop me. Hurt me back if you have to.
What if he wants Cole to see the monster. What if he wants to remember what it's like to die just because he misses the adrenaline. It's that same restlessness that comes with everything being too fucking calm around here. It's too nice. Everybody's too nice, and Cole is an animal Petre wants to let out of the cage.]
[He's playing with very real, ingrained instinct here. Kill or be killed. Somehow it's all entwined with their sex, and it's getting worse.
And that's the adrenaline he needs, more desperation than excitement, but still similar.]
I need another towel. [His voice has gone oddly flat. The blood flowing down his arm, the sodden towel, they've finally caught his attention.] You got a needle? Might need to stitch this up after all.
I wasn't joking. It's how it's done. We use code, and that's how we know it's time to stop.
[He leans away, expression a little harder now. He stands up.]
No, I don't have anything like that. I'll get you another towel.
[he keeps nothing that can be used to patch up. Why would he need to.
After he returns, he starts to undo the first, letting it rest on his lap. Better a dirty pair of pants than a dirty floor, he supposes. Then it's time to tie it up again.]
Go to the hospital. Or just find someone you know. But you don't tell them about what we did. Any of it.
[He's pressing on the new bandage, as much as it hurts, trying to stanch the flow as much as possible in the hopes that the vigorous activity just started it up again and it can still clot without needing stitches. But he's very focussed on what Petre's saying now.]
That's not happening again. [Quick and sharp, a whip-crack of a statement. Never. Not a chance. He's broken too many necks to involve his hands in that way again, safe word or no.]
But fine. A word and some kinda hand gesture. You sound like you get all this, you tell me what it should be.
[Yeah, he's definitely noticing that, and it makes him feel as dizzy and confused as he usually does with Petre. But he just gets his laces tied, stands up and nods.]
Yeah. We'll talk about it.
[He's got no idea what else to say, so he leave on that note.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[and he should hope there's no one else. Petre quite likes owning this portion of the other man.]
You're the only one who's ever let me have some blood. I'll be the same for you. [and just to add to the performance...] I'll give you my blood.
no subject
no subject
[fuck you cole.]
I'm letting you.
no subject
[He takes a couple of shaking breaths, still so aware of that pain in his arm but determined not to show it. His forearm is slick with blood now, the towel deep red.]
- is to stop needing this.
no subject
[he moves in, dangerously close, not quite nuzzling him as their lips almost meet. He's breathing hard, tension between them shooting through like electricity.]
It won't be you if it's gone. I'll help you.
no subject
I tried to kill you. [Again. But this time there was no back up plan.]
no subject
[Cole's seen and felt Petre's strength. He knows for a fact that the demon held back tremendously during their fight. Whatever happened here was because he wanted it to. Cole lost control while Petre held it the whole time.]
It's okay. Nobody has to know. You can pretend with them.
[You don't have to pretend with me.]
no subject
Petre, stop it. [He's just sitting on the floor now, not crouched anymore, his voice soft and strained.] Please.
no subject
You'll keep an eye out for me. I'll keep this secret for you.
no subject
He doesn't know if he can walk without that crutch.]
Never let it go that far again. [Because Petre does have control, and he allowed that to happen.] Never.
no subject
Then what do you want me to do.
no subject
I don't care if I can kill you or not. If it looks like it, if it's anything like it - [What? What does Petre do?] - stop me. Hurt me back if you have to.
no subject
What if he wants Cole to see the monster. What if he wants to remember what it's like to die just because he misses the adrenaline. It's that same restlessness that comes with everything being too fucking calm around here. It's too nice. Everybody's too nice, and Cole is an animal Petre wants to let out of the cage.]
... Something like a code.
no subject
[He's playing with very real, ingrained instinct here. Kill or be killed. Somehow it's all entwined with their sex, and it's getting worse.
And that's the adrenaline he needs, more desperation than excitement, but still similar.]
I need another towel. [His voice has gone oddly flat. The blood flowing down his arm, the sodden towel, they've finally caught his attention.] You got a needle? Might need to stitch this up after all.
no subject
[He leans away, expression a little harder now. He stands up.]
No, I don't have anything like that. I'll get you another towel.
[he keeps nothing that can be used to patch up. Why would he need to.
After he returns, he starts to undo the first, letting it rest on his lap. Better a dirty pair of pants than a dirty floor, he supposes. Then it's time to tie it up again.]
Go to the hospital. Or just find someone you know. But you don't tell them about what we did. Any of it.
no subject
[This is a regular thing? Never mind, though, Petre's gone to find another towel. Once he's cinched up again, he shakes his head.]
I can do it myself at home. Won't take long to heal anyway. What kind of code?
no subject
[yes they are talking about this]
You pick a word. When things get too rough for you, you say it and it all stops. No matter what.
no subject
[He's pressing on the new bandage, as much as it hurts, trying to stanch the flow as much as possible in the hopes that the vigorous activity just started it up again and it can still clot without needing stitches. But he's very focussed on what Petre's saying now.]
no subject
[He tilts his head, a not-smile on his lips. Cole won't understand, will he. Maybe just another thing to explain.
Not that he doesn't notice the blood. He could just lean in and drink it all up again. But he won't.]
We need something else, too. Can't say much while you're choking me, can I.
no subject
But fine. A word and some kinda hand gesture. You sound like you get all this, you tell me what it should be.
no subject
[Don't you love it, how he made you stay and now he's shooing you off.]
You need to calm down. Get that thing treated. We've got time.
no subject
Yeah. We'll talk about it.
[He's got no idea what else to say, so he leave on that note.]