[Dodger slips away from him easily, dropping his jacket on the bed and working on getting his shirt off. He's all healed up from their last encounter, finally... although he's got some minor scars left over on his sides, adding to general noise of scar tissue on his body.]
I figured you wouldn't be able to get the funds together for the real thing, and I'm not paying to get my rank back myself. So, I asked a god for help and he delivered.
[He roots through his jacket to pull out two vials, and gesture with them.]
He said the clarity of the dream is based on experience. So since you know what you're doing, it'll be vivid.
[Still choosing not to mention he's got his own experience, beyond just testing it out with John. That's not relevant.]
[ He frowns at hearing pretty much all of that. Not that Dodger is at all wrong about his progress, but involving help from a god isn't exactly doing it for him either. At first, he says nothing, simply scowling to himself as he tosses his shirt aside onto the nearby chair. ]
Not sure if I trust a god any more than this place either.
[ Running a hand through is hair, he glances at the younger man, eyes lingering on him a bit longer than before. Dodger isn't just a human, so he didn't expect all those marks to stick, but seeing a few still there and scarred over does give him more of a rush than he'd like to admit. ]
Really. Even if my dreams aren't exactly [ human ] normal?
[ There's a lot no one should see going on his head, let alone Dodger, but he's only going to imply as much. He strips down to just his briefs, kicking his pants toward the aforementioned chair. All that said and done though, he does sit at the edge of his bed, eyes now narrowing at the vials in Dodger's hand. ]
Should I even ask what you did to get those?
[ He doesn't realize this is John they're talking about, but no other god he knows would be so generous. ]
I don't dream. And it worked out for me, so. We'll figure it out.
[He doesn't need to be told Bigby isn't human, even if he hasn't really pressed him on it. Either he's a werewolf or another one of those basically-a-mutant-but-they-call-themselves-something-else types that seems like a werewolf, and either way Dodger figures he can handle him in all respects.
Dodger sets the vials aside, so he can work on getting his own clothes off. Shirt and jeans hit the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. Today's boxers read, fittingly, 'bite me'.]
Like I said, I tested them out with him. So I already got eaten once - you're getting leftovers.
[There's something very deliberate in his tone there, and the way he looks Bigby over like he's hoping to trigger some sort of jealousy.]
[ There's still a lot to consider here. It may have worked on Dodger, but that doesn't tell Bigby anything about how it'll effect him. Either it's a complete dud or it goes a little too well, but on the off chance they find a sweet spot that hits just right—
His eyes glance down for just a second, catching a glimpse of Dodger's boxers. He runs a hand down his face with a quiet grumble. ]
Listen, Dodger. All I'm saying is you can't— ... you can't just... [ He lifts his head from his hand. ] ... that's how you know?
[ Of course it hits where it hurts. Made second to a god no less. Given leftovers. Scraps. He scoffs, trying to downplay how possessive he's feeling in that moment, but his shoulders are stiffening up just a bit too much to hide. Again, his gaze lands on the vials, but this time he reaches for one too. ]
Alright, so we drink the damn stuff. And then what? How do you know it's working?
[Dodger sees the tension in Bigby's shoulders, and it has a smug grin playing on his face. He's valuable, or at least his body is, and that's worth the price of however angry Henry will get if he finds out what Dodger is up to.]
Then we'll fall asleep, and then we can turn the dream into whatever we want. So, if we wake up somewhere else, that's probably a good indicator.
[He wastes no more time before pulling out the stopper for his own vial with his teeth, and swallowing it. He honestly has no idea what it tastes like, but the smell makes him think it probably isn't that bad.]
Just don't get any ideas if I fall asleep and you don't. I'll know and I will kill you.
[ The look on the other's face just makes him roll his eyes. He might not know exactly what Dodger is thinking, but it's enough to piss him off anyway. ]
So it's really that simple. [ He quietly turns the vial over in his hand, only to shoot his gaze back up. ] Wh— ... the fuck is that supposed to mean, Dodger?
[ Offense absolutely taken. ]
Let's make one thing clear. If I can't sleep, I'm leaving you the hell alone, and you better damn well do the same. Got it?
[ With a snarl, he pulls the topper off with his teeth too, spitting it out and downing the potion in one gulp. His nose scrunches, mostly because it's not what he expected. Well, no going back now. He moves up to actually lay down, still not sure what position feels right, but ultimately deciding to sit slightly propped up against the headboard. Eyes closing, he tilts his head a bit up toward the ceiling with a deep sigh. ]
[Although he guesses any other safety concern is sort of out the window when he's explicitly interested in this man eating him alive. Really, he just still hasn't shaken the idea that everyone is secretly as deprived as he is.
Dodger lets out a soft huff, and makes himself comfortable on the bed next to Bigby. Probably for the best that he doesn't keep trying to argue, because it feels like he falls unconscious as soon as he settles down...
He doesn't tend to dream, so his mind ends up latching onto something that feels uncannily familiar. What looks like a 50's-style apartment bedroom with a large window next to the bed, showing a view of the deep ocean. While he's still getting his bearings, Dodger looks up and sees a squid pass by.]
[ An easy retort sits right at the tip of his tongue. Instead, the wolf stays quiet, simply scoffing in response as Dodger climbs up beside him. It'd be a waste of time to argue when he can feel the pull of sleep tugging at him already. Bigby takes in a deep breath—
—only to be met with the damp smell of somewhere deep below the sea. The visuals take a moment to manifest for him, but immediately he knows he's not anywhere natural. Rusted metal and dried blood fill his head before he hears the creaks of an apartment and the rumblings of water. When he comes to, he's already sitting at a table, half-smoked cigarette in hand, dressed for a past decade yet again. Taking a drag almost tastes right.
He takes a glance at the brand on the box. Huff & Puffs at first glance, then Nico Times the next. ]
Memory-bleed?
[ He turns, looking over at Dodger while his attention is out the window. Already, his eyes are a golden hue, fangs and claws drawn out despite his even temperament currently. Dreams do make things a bit weird. He stands to move a bit closer. Dodger's scent is starting to materialize for him too. ]
[...Right. He guesses he hasn't been talking to Bigby very much outside of sex... not enough to learn about him, certainly not enough to give much away about himself.]
I've got a disability, it gives me... visions, of other worlds. Places like Goldenville, or... here. The city under the ocean.
[This is quieter than most of the visions he's seen of it. Still cold and wet and constantly creaking, but there's no people around. Which is an improvement.
Dodger slides to the edge of the bed, partly to get a good look at Bigby. His focus is all on those golden eyes, meeting them with bright curiosity.]
Should've seen me while we were there, in Goldenville. I've lived so many lives in the 50's, or in that same sort of Pleasantville suburbia... couldn't keep them all straight, I was going nuts.
So this place is real then? [ He doesn't seem too phased by the way Dodger puts it, simply tapping the ash from his cigarette out of habit. Maybe the resort's desensitized him enough at this point. Maybe he already knew about other worlds before getting pulled here. Either way, he doesn't speak on it. ] Huh. Could've fooled me.
[ It's surreal enough to be a dream exclusive, that's for sure, but if he didn't know any better, he'd say Atlantis was just a story too. He takes another drag, letting the smoke billow slowly from his lips as he watches more fish swim by. ]
Out of all the decades... the House really fucked you over.
[ And he thought getting a divorce was bad. Quiet in thought, his gaze stays forward, even though he can tell Dodger is trying to get a good look at him at like this for the first time they aren't busy fucking. If he's already past the point of pretending to be human, then he's bound to go further once they get going. But, before that, his head tilts. ]
[He doesn't really have an answer past that. Until he showed up at the resort, Dodger was on the fence about whether his visions were real or just elaborate hallucinations. But he's run into people from his other lives, and that makes it a lot harder to discount them than it already was.
Dodger tips his head, and takes the cigarette from Bigby's claws so he can take a drag. Although his gaze is still scanning over the wolf, as if he's going to get new information just from cataloguing what he looks like.]
Yeah. That's why I get nosebleeds. I usually means I'm seeing something I'm not supposed to, or... remembering something that didn't happen to this version of me.
[He pauses.]
What are you?
[His tone is mild. He knows Bigby isn't human, but it seems silly to jump straight to werewolf when he could just be a mutant (or mutant equivalent) with wolf-like powers.]
[ He lightly snorts. It’s true — he just never knew the extent of it. He’s not in the business of knowing that sort of thing anyway, not when his territory is now just a small enclave in New York. The thought does get him to frown, but he’s distracted when Dodger takes the cigarette, and again when he asks his question. ]
Not human. [ Stating the obvious on purpose. He’d be more inclined to leave it at that if Dodger didn’t just spill his own story. ] Not a werewolf or a shapeshifter or whatever else you might have where you’re from. This— [ He motions to his body with a downward sweep of a hand. ] —isn’t natural for me.
[ He turns fully toward Dodger, hand hanging at his pocket by the thumb. Whether Bigby seems to notice or not, his face is distinctly becoming less human, hair darkening to a coal black. He could go on. Instead, he pivots back. ]
So what did you see last time? When you were in heat?
[He nearly just accepts that as an answer. Not human is obvious, but... not a werewolf, not a skin-walker, not a mutant, that doesn't leave much else for him to assume. If the human body isn't his natural state, then... huh.
Dodger hesitates, almost wanting to steer the conversation back there. But he also doesn't think it really matters, either way Bigby is something he can't rely on previous experience for.]
I don't know. It's... fuzzy.
[Even fuzzier now, it takes him a while to even remember what happened two weeks ago and then try to remember what it is he saw.]
Someone... I've seen before. I think. I usually don't see faces. But he had dark hair, and horns, and claws... he must've fucked me, that's what I saw. Him getting inside of me.
[He has more information than that, but not much. And he's willing to be open to a point but who knows how Bigby is going to feel about Dodger mentioning that he's pretty sure he met this mystery man in Hell.]
I usually can't bottom unless I'm in heat, but that's... it's new. So maybe that version of me didn't get fucked up, or maybe I got over it. I don't know.
[ His eyes narrow. It's not exactly the answer he expected, but then again what was. It paints a picture for him, at least, of some unknown creature from a completely different world, digging his claws into Dodger's skin, thrusting hard into him. Horns aside, it's close enough. Go figure that's the one that came through when he was with Bigby. ]
... So that's why. [ Both to Dodger's reaction and insistence on using slimes. He frowns despite the younger man seeming far from the type that wants pity. ] At least here you can get whatever you want, right? Nothing to hold you back? [ Granted, it's not real, but Dodger did make it seem like it would feel close enough. ]
Just... come here.
[ He reaches for Dodger's jaw, eyeing him first before tugging him closer for a kiss. Already, he starts off hungry, teasing with sharp teeth if the other decides to slide his tongue past his lips. In the middle of this, Bigby drops his hand toward Dodger's wrist, jerking it for him to let go of the cigarette. He stomps on it, foot twisting hard on the ground before he starts to push Dodger toward the closest wall.
When Bigby slams the young man onto a hard surface, closing him in, he finally pulls away. ]
Feels about right, doesn't it?
[ It's still so surreal, but he's leaning into it the longer they're in here. ]
[He doesn't like pity, but he's starting to get used to it. And he's starting to slowly understand that generally when he gets 'pity', it's some form of compassion. So he just nods, and tries not to pay too much attention to the instinctive thought that Bigby is looking down on him.
Whatever you want. That phrase has gotten... a little dicey in his mind, specifically because of Bigby. The last time Henry had tried to ask where all those scars came from, Dodger had told him he'd give him whatever he wants except Bigby's name. He barely knows the man, certainly doesn't know him well enough to know if he's safe around Henry. And he doesn't want to be cut off from the source of all this thrilling danger, so.... better to just keep them separate, even if it makes Dodger feel incredibly guilty.
He nearly says something to that effect before Bigby grabs him, kisses him, pins him to the wall, and all of those thoughts disappear immediately. Dodger moves with it easily, pressing back into the kiss and shivering at the teeth against his tongue, and gasping sharply when his back hits the wall. By the time Bigby pulls away, he's looking down at him with a look of starstruck excitement.]
Yeah... could you bounce my head off the wall again?
[Feels silly to ask for it, but he's starting to realize he just won't get it often enough if he doesn't.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Dodger slips away from him easily, dropping his jacket on the bed and working on getting his shirt off. He's all healed up from their last encounter, finally... although he's got some minor scars left over on his sides, adding to general noise of scar tissue on his body.]
I figured you wouldn't be able to get the funds together for the real thing, and I'm not paying to get my rank back myself. So, I asked a god for help and he delivered.
[He roots through his jacket to pull out two vials, and gesture with them.]
He said the clarity of the dream is based on experience. So since you know what you're doing, it'll be vivid.
[Still choosing not to mention he's got his own experience, beyond just testing it out with John. That's not relevant.]
no subject
Not sure if I trust a god any more than this place either.
[ Running a hand through is hair, he glances at the younger man, eyes lingering on him a bit longer than before. Dodger isn't just a human, so he didn't expect all those marks to stick, but seeing a few still there and scarred over does give him more of a rush than he'd like to admit. ]
Really. Even if my dreams aren't exactly [ human ] normal?
[ There's a lot no one should see going on his head, let alone Dodger, but he's only going to imply as much. He strips down to just his briefs, kicking his pants toward the aforementioned chair. All that said and done though, he does sit at the edge of his bed, eyes now narrowing at the vials in Dodger's hand. ]
Should I even ask what you did to get those?
[ He doesn't realize this is John they're talking about, but no other god he knows would be so generous. ]
no subject
I don't dream. And it worked out for me, so. We'll figure it out.
[He doesn't need to be told Bigby isn't human, even if he hasn't really pressed him on it. Either he's a werewolf or another one of those basically-a-mutant-but-they-call-themselves-something-else types that seems like a werewolf, and either way Dodger figures he can handle him in all respects.
Dodger sets the vials aside, so he can work on getting his own clothes off. Shirt and jeans hit the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. Today's boxers read, fittingly, 'bite me'.]
Like I said, I tested them out with him. So I already got eaten once - you're getting leftovers.
[There's something very deliberate in his tone there, and the way he looks Bigby over like he's hoping to trigger some sort of jealousy.]
no subject
His eyes glance down for just a second, catching a glimpse of Dodger's boxers. He runs a hand down his face with a quiet grumble. ]
Listen, Dodger. All I'm saying is you can't— ... you can't just... [ He lifts his head from his hand. ] ... that's how you know?
[ Of course it hits where it hurts. Made second to a god no less. Given leftovers. Scraps. He scoffs, trying to downplay how possessive he's feeling in that moment, but his shoulders are stiffening up just a bit too much to hide. Again, his gaze lands on the vials, but this time he reaches for one too. ]
Alright, so we drink the damn stuff. And then what? How do you know it's working?
no subject
Then we'll fall asleep, and then we can turn the dream into whatever we want. So, if we wake up somewhere else, that's probably a good indicator.
[He wastes no more time before pulling out the stopper for his own vial with his teeth, and swallowing it. He honestly has no idea what it tastes like, but the smell makes him think it probably isn't that bad.]
Just don't get any ideas if I fall asleep and you don't. I'll know and I will kill you.
no subject
So it's really that simple. [ He quietly turns the vial over in his hand, only to shoot his gaze back up. ] Wh— ... the fuck is that supposed to mean, Dodger?
[ Offense absolutely taken. ]
Let's make one thing clear. If I can't sleep, I'm leaving you the hell alone, and you better damn well do the same. Got it?
[ With a snarl, he pulls the topper off with his teeth too, spitting it out and downing the potion in one gulp. His nose scrunches, mostly because it's not what he expected. Well, no going back now. He moves up to actually lay down, still not sure what position feels right, but ultimately deciding to sit slightly propped up against the headboard. Eyes closing, he tilts his head a bit up toward the ceiling with a deep sigh. ]
Just get comfortable and be quiet.
no subject
[Although he guesses any other safety concern is sort of out the window when he's explicitly interested in this man eating him alive. Really, he just still hasn't shaken the idea that everyone is secretly as deprived as he is.
Dodger lets out a soft huff, and makes himself comfortable on the bed next to Bigby. Probably for the best that he doesn't keep trying to argue, because it feels like he falls unconscious as soon as he settles down...
He doesn't tend to dream, so his mind ends up latching onto something that feels uncannily familiar. What looks like a 50's-style apartment bedroom with a large window next to the bed, showing a view of the deep ocean. While he's still getting his bearings, Dodger looks up and sees a squid pass by.]
...Feels like I should be getting a memory-bleed.
no subject
—only to be met with the damp smell of somewhere deep below the sea. The visuals take a moment to manifest for him, but immediately he knows he's not anywhere natural. Rusted metal and dried blood fill his head before he hears the creaks of an apartment and the rumblings of water. When he comes to, he's already sitting at a table, half-smoked cigarette in hand, dressed for a past decade yet again. Taking a drag almost tastes right.
He takes a glance at the brand on the box. Huff & Puffs at first glance, then Nico Times the next. ]
Memory-bleed?
[ He turns, looking over at Dodger while his attention is out the window. Already, his eyes are a golden hue, fangs and claws drawn out despite his even temperament currently. Dreams do make things a bit weird. He stands to move a bit closer. Dodger's scent is starting to materialize for him too. ]
Goldenville really stuck with you this much?
no subject
I've got a disability, it gives me... visions, of other worlds. Places like Goldenville, or... here. The city under the ocean.
[This is quieter than most of the visions he's seen of it. Still cold and wet and constantly creaking, but there's no people around. Which is an improvement.
Dodger slides to the edge of the bed, partly to get a good look at Bigby. His focus is all on those golden eyes, meeting them with bright curiosity.]
Should've seen me while we were there, in Goldenville. I've lived so many lives in the 50's, or in that same sort of Pleasantville suburbia... couldn't keep them all straight, I was going nuts.
no subject
[ It's surreal enough to be a dream exclusive, that's for sure, but if he didn't know any better, he'd say Atlantis was just a story too. He takes another drag, letting the smoke billow slowly from his lips as he watches more fish swim by. ]
Out of all the decades... the House really fucked you over.
[ And he thought getting a divorce was bad. Quiet in thought, his gaze stays forward, even though he can tell Dodger is trying to get a good look at him at like this for the first time they aren't busy fucking. If he's already past the point of pretending to be human, then he's bound to go further once they get going. But, before that, his head tilts. ]
Is that why the nosebleed?
no subject
[He doesn't really have an answer past that. Until he showed up at the resort, Dodger was on the fence about whether his visions were real or just elaborate hallucinations. But he's run into people from his other lives, and that makes it a lot harder to discount them than it already was.
Dodger tips his head, and takes the cigarette from Bigby's claws so he can take a drag. Although his gaze is still scanning over the wolf, as if he's going to get new information just from cataloguing what he looks like.]
Yeah. That's why I get nosebleeds. I usually means I'm seeing something I'm not supposed to, or... remembering something that didn't happen to this version of me.
[He pauses.]
What are you?
[His tone is mild. He knows Bigby isn't human, but it seems silly to jump straight to werewolf when he could just be a mutant (or mutant equivalent) with wolf-like powers.]
no subject
Not human. [ Stating the obvious on purpose. He’d be more inclined to leave it at that if Dodger didn’t just spill his own story. ] Not a werewolf or a shapeshifter or whatever else you might have where you’re from. This— [ He motions to his body with a downward sweep of a hand. ] —isn’t natural for me.
[ He turns fully toward Dodger, hand hanging at his pocket by the thumb. Whether Bigby seems to notice or not, his face is distinctly becoming less human, hair darkening to a coal black. He could go on. Instead, he pivots back. ]
So what did you see last time? When you were in heat?
no subject
Dodger hesitates, almost wanting to steer the conversation back there. But he also doesn't think it really matters, either way Bigby is something he can't rely on previous experience for.]
I don't know. It's... fuzzy.
[Even fuzzier now, it takes him a while to even remember what happened two weeks ago and then try to remember what it is he saw.]
Someone... I've seen before. I think. I usually don't see faces. But he had dark hair, and horns, and claws... he must've fucked me, that's what I saw. Him getting inside of me.
[He has more information than that, but not much. And he's willing to be open to a point but who knows how Bigby is going to feel about Dodger mentioning that he's pretty sure he met this mystery man in Hell.]
I usually can't bottom unless I'm in heat, but that's... it's new. So maybe that version of me didn't get fucked up, or maybe I got over it. I don't know.
no subject
... So that's why. [ Both to Dodger's reaction and insistence on using slimes. He frowns despite the younger man seeming far from the type that wants pity. ] At least here you can get whatever you want, right? Nothing to hold you back? [ Granted, it's not real, but Dodger did make it seem like it would feel close enough. ]
Just... come here.
[ He reaches for Dodger's jaw, eyeing him first before tugging him closer for a kiss. Already, he starts off hungry, teasing with sharp teeth if the other decides to slide his tongue past his lips. In the middle of this, Bigby drops his hand toward Dodger's wrist, jerking it for him to let go of the cigarette. He stomps on it, foot twisting hard on the ground before he starts to push Dodger toward the closest wall.
When Bigby slams the young man onto a hard surface, closing him in, he finally pulls away. ]
Feels about right, doesn't it?
[ It's still so surreal, but he's leaning into it the longer they're in here. ]
no subject
Whatever you want. That phrase has gotten... a little dicey in his mind, specifically because of Bigby. The last time Henry had tried to ask where all those scars came from, Dodger had told him he'd give him whatever he wants except Bigby's name. He barely knows the man, certainly doesn't know him well enough to know if he's safe around Henry. And he doesn't want to be cut off from the source of all this thrilling danger, so.... better to just keep them separate, even if it makes Dodger feel incredibly guilty.
He nearly says something to that effect before Bigby grabs him, kisses him, pins him to the wall, and all of those thoughts disappear immediately. Dodger moves with it easily, pressing back into the kiss and shivering at the teeth against his tongue, and gasping sharply when his back hits the wall. By the time Bigby pulls away, he's looking down at him with a look of starstruck excitement.]
Yeah... could you bounce my head off the wall again?
[Feels silly to ask for it, but he's starting to realize he just won't get it often enough if he doesn't.]