The index finger kept still as Brent bit into it, Kiriwar not really bothering to pull his hand away. "Hn?" Amusement glinted in his eyes as he forced two fingers into Brent's mouth when the male pulled away, toying with his tongue. "Ya wanna eat?"

           The look in his eyes was a warning. He had no time to get off and escape somewhere before two fingers were shoved into his mouth. The blond made a coughing noise before grumbling. The taste wasn’t that bad and he was finally getting some attention, so why the fuck not. But his tongue laid still, occasionally flicking between the two digits in his mouth as he hummed affirmatively in answer.

The silence that fell meant that a certain tanned male could now fully focus on the TV, gazing at the bright screen with a mild interest. Though eventually his eyes landed back on Brent, a large hand reaching out to pull at pouty lips. "Ya hungry?"

           His eyes nearly slid closed by the time Kiriwar was reaching down to tug on his lips. Ouch. He blinked at his question however and flashed a smirk before leaning forward a little and biting into the meat of his index finger. Not too hard, just enough to leave small indents on the skin. What a way to tell someone he was kinda hungry. He pulled back, smirk growing wider.

           “That answer your question?”

Long Nights || closed




Before he could answer one of their workers moved to open the door, regardless of not understanding the the words spoken the male stood and stared at Britt, a nervous sound leaving him as he worked harder to translate what she'd said. When he couldn't figure out what to say to her he simply kept the door barred with his body and turned toward the kitchen, a shaky, "Boss?"

Cerulean eyes shifted from Shiro's as the man called him, short explanation dying in his throat as he straightened himself and motioned for the man to let her in a short, "Sie'ist fine," given in return. When the man moved his already stiffened posture shifted into bit more annoyance, brows pulled together as he quickly pieced together his English once more.

"Nice ta see yer not stupid 'nough ta jus' barge in."

Wrapping the jacket more securely about himself, Shiro peeked towards the door with a frown settled across his visage. He got the very basics of what was happening but any finer details were lost: such as why Britt was staying over. Grimm gave the impression he disliked her in some way, even if they were practically friends, so to have her show up unannounced was a surprise. Why hadn’t he been told about this whole thing in the first place?

"Bien sûr, vous n ‘putain de me dire qu’elle allait venir avant elle était ici." He muttered darkly, discarding the half-made sandwich since he’d thrown the other part of the bread anyway. There was no way he should have been so nervous he slipped back into that language. Not even Grimm understood him then.

           She blinked and glanced up from examining her nails to focus on the male who’d opened the door. Not who she was expecting, either. Britt stared at him for a moment before grinning at the noise he made. Kinda cute. Maybe she could fuck some of the guards around here. If she did, this guy was first. As the worker stepped back and allowed her entry, the stepped into the doorway and onto the threshold, pulling her suitcase across with her. Lo and behold, Grimm was already looking pissy. The atmosphere wasn’t friendly at all. She had to see her darling Shiro in order to make the mood lighter. Where was he anyways?

           “Yeah, well, as much as I look th’ fuckin’ rude tramp, I ain’t,” She said to him, eyes moving back to the guard and lowering her voice with a wink, “Princess for others, though. Call me.”

           With a turn of her head, she strode forward while speaking lightly, “No sane person would walk on in here without knockin’ anyways. They wouldn’t want a show from ya an’ Shi, ‘m guessin’. Unless they’re into voyeurism. Speakin’ of,” she paused, glancing around, “Where’s th’ darlin’? Got ‘em tied up somewhere?” 

Why had he named her? Huh. Don't people usually give names to what they care about? Ignoring the fact that it's usually pets being given a name and not tools. "She's helped me out a lot, so I jus' repayed the favor." Yea. Makes total sense.


           He’d given the pipe a gender, too. Called it a her. Strange. But he was no one to talk. Who was he to judge? Brenton just sighed and raised his hand, placing it on his forehead as he stared past Kiriwar and focused on the ceiling. Boredom set in as quick as ever. Wasn’t even interested in his beer. Pouting due to lack of attention? Maybe.

Kiriwar's gaze shifts from the screen down to the younger male as he lists off an array of nicknames. Or insults, really. His gaze lingers for a moment before moving back to the screen. "Only if ya wish for Mitsuko to get lodged up your ass."

           Brent cackles at his reply and he looks back up at Kiriwar, lips stretched into a grin. It was fun to mess with him. Even funner now since he was already bored of the war documentary on TV.

           “Doubt ya’d put your beloved pipe up m’ ass in th’ first place. Why’d ya name it, anyways?”

Ask my muse questions about their relationship with another character.
A nickname, huh? Kiriwar wasn't a big fan of any nickname people had come up with so far. They all either sucked or served as a means to annoy him. The guy merely hums in response, not voicing his thoughts as dark hues intently stare at the screen.

           He settles back in his lap to stare up at him yet again, eyes narrowing a little at being ignored. Or, at least he feels ignored. Brenton sighs and stays quiet for a while, gaze moving to the screen. And then,

           “Beanstalk. Big bird. Pipe user. Thick head. Daddy. Big boy. Asshole. Big and tall. Sugar daddy. Any of ‘em sound good?”

Flips through the channels as Brent wiggles around on his lap in an attempt to get comfortable, ignoring the guy until he finally stills and speaks up again, leaving the TV on some war documentary before replying with a simple, gruff, "Kiriwar."

           He heaves a sigh at the name. Boring. So, so, so boring. Brenton stares up at him before lifting his lead some to sip from his beer. Once he’s done slurping loudly, he leans over and sets his beer on the table. He’s not really paying attention to what on the screen.

           “No, I need somethin’ else. A nickname. Not your full name.”

A sound of annoyance spills from Kiriwar's throat as the guy lays across his lap. He's not so much bothered by the action as opposed to the nickname. Kiwis are gross. "Don't call me that, ya brat."

           He rolls his eyes and wiggles on his lap, struggling to get comfortable. His final position of choice is on his back, head held up by the other’s thigh. Brenton looks towards the television and pops open his beer.

           “Whatcha want me t’ call ya, then?”

Kiriwar plops down on the couch next to Brenton, tossing him a cold beer and changing the channel to search for either some gore or porn. Whichever.

           Brenton nearly jumps out of his skin when Kiriwar plops beside him, even more surprised that he offers a beer by tossing it in his lap. Huh. The blond watches him for a second before heaving a sigh and laying across his lap.