[ Another grunt. Mick isn't bothered by preferences. Obviously. A lot of people piss him off in a lot of ways, but he's got plenty of reasons to be mad at that weird version of Snart or Constantine without it coming down to the fact that they want to put a sausage in their mouths sometimes. ]
So you have preferences, but no standards?
[ Not that Mick really knows where his standards would lie. Blondie's too good for him, but that's about all he knows. Besides, she's the only one of them who's really managed to maintain any sort of thing while also being a Legend without wanting to just walk away from it all and nope not going there. He definitely doesn't miss Boyscout. ]
[ Man of few words. Makes him wonder what it takes to get him to loosen up. Relax a little. He's not sure he's ever seen him not barking at somebody or scowling now that he thinks on it. ]
Limited standards, I'd say. I've shagged Lucifer, a version of him at least. I don't think I get to harp on about standards after that.
[ Not that he hadn't done worse before that. Point still stands. ]
[ It seems like a reasonable question, considering. There are so many versions of Lucifer, but real life never quite works out like the movies. Otherwise, Lucifer would be the Bedazzled version. At least, that's how Mick would like to picture the devil. ]
No, but he did have a penthouse and a lot of fun toys.
[ And that wasn't even getting into the booze. Good stuff too. Rich man's scotch always leaves an aftertaste though, even if it's the best. He'll take cheap swill with somebody like Mick over that any day. He grins at the question. ]
Not that I've seen but I know a potion or two that can do that.
[ Mick actually looks a little more interested in that potion than he'd like to admit, but who hasn't wondered about things like that? At the very least, it would make his writing more accurate. That's what he tells himself, anyway. ]
[ He offers a pointed look and takes another swig of his beer. Humming in thought, he shrugs a little. He's hardly one to judge. Then again, he's debated testing them out himself. You know, for curiosity's sake. ]
[ It takes Mick a moment to realize what he just implied and then he frowns. Great. Now he's picturing a lot of things he would have been just as happy not to picture and maybe a few things he doesn't completely hate.
Of course, there's a pause in there that lasts a little longer than he might have meant it to. ]
[ Mick doesn't bother to hide his curiosity now, but he can't help feeling unsteady on his feet. He walks a fine line of following but still feeling in control most of the time. He doesn't like being caught off guard, but that's just where he feels like he's being backed into right now. He wants to take control back and he lets his gut take him there.
Grabbing the lapel of Constantine's coat, he yanks the man back towards the bathroom. ]
[ He's only just finished another swig of his beer when the big man's got hold of his coat lapels, tugging him along. If he wasn't so quick on his feet he'd have stumbled and while he's amused, laughing would probably be taken the absolute wrong way by Mick. He's keen to see where he's going with all of it and lucky for them, no one seems to notice their disappearing amongst the throng of people still milling about on the dancefloor.
The old hinges on the door squeak as it gets pushed open and it's blessedly empty by the time they come to a stop inside. He half-leers at Mick. ]
[ He lets go long enough to lock the door because he's a little too worried about his own decision-making abilities right now to worry about anyone else needing to get in here. Between his strength and Trench Coat's magic, he's sure the other man wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be, which really leaves Mick with more questions than answers. ]
[ Said as he surges close, chest to chest with the slightly taller man. He's got a couple of inches on him but he's not about to back down so easy. No, he want's to push a bit more. Make him work for it. He offers a rusty laugh. ]
I don't and I've got protection on me besides. I'm not daft.
[ If the big man isn't going to make the first move then John will. He reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and draw him down into a kiss that is more teeth than anything. Sharp and biting. ]
[ Mick's got a few retorts about exactly what he thinks of Constantine's intelligence, but this really is a faster road to shutting him up, so fine. He meets the other man halfway, all biting teeth and growls as he backs the other man into the sink.
[ And were there not other pressing matters at hand, he'd be ready and willing to entertain any number of scathing remarks as to his character. Banter might as well be foreplay with this one. The kiss is far from gentle and exactly what he was hoping for when it came to this one to be sure. He grunts as he's backed into the sink, reaching out with one hand and fumbling for the belt to Mick's trousers.
Breaking away to drag in a breath, he offers a bite just a little off from a nip to his bottom lip, tugging a bit before letting it go. ]
[ This should feel wrong, but there's something in the almost-friendly roughness between them that Mick finds enticing. They're not trying to hurt each other now, but neither are they trying to be gentle or even patient. It's an oddly perfect mix.
His hands find slim hips and while he's not trying to leave bruises, he's not exactly trying to avoid it, either. Trapping Constantine between his own body and the sink, he presses his thigh between the other man's legs. ]
[ If he knew was thinking that he'd tell Mick he was overthinking it. Of all the ways they've either come together or clashed, John never figured this way would end up on the list. He can't say he isn't glad for it, though. Big man doesn't give himself near enough credit to much of anything so far as he's concerned.
Though a big part of that might also be how he's seen or feels he's seen by the rest of the Waverider crew. Sure, he and Mick don't get on all the time but that's because their personalities are all sharp edges needing smoothing out. The reason for the former is based on past actions that he had no part in that set his teeth on edge the more he hears about any of it. Something he hopes to banish from the thoughts of the man who has him pinned between his body and the sink at least for a little while.
He refocuses his attention at the grip of Mick's hands, his own mouth finding the other man's for another bruising kiss as his legs shift to accommodate the thigh pressed between them. A muffled sound of encouragement leaves him as he's not quite ready to break away from the kiss. The music of the band is muffled by the locked door, and the sound of him finally getting Mick's belt and fly undone is better than the music they'd had going out there. Sorry.
Crowded as he is, it doesn't bode for trying to get to his pockets for lube or condoms. Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss enough to talk, panting a little to catch his breath. ] Gotta let me get to my pockets, mate.
[ Mick isn't a great people person in general. He never has been. The people who like him tend to like him despite that fact or maybe because they like the simplicity of a man who has no patience for tact or lies. Mick is a thief and a criminal, but he's an honest and uncomplicated one.
At least, he thinks he is.
He growls into the kiss, chest vibrating with it, and as the other man tries to get to his pockets Mick's got half a mind to make it harder just to be contrary. There's a part of him that likes the rough edges between them and wants to dig into them like pressing on a bruise. He wants Constantine to squirm for him, to lose all that swagger and composure. ]
Who's stopping you?
[ He bites at Constantine's jaw, not enough to bruise, but not quite playful either. ]
[ Well, thieving isn't usually about how much of a people person one is. Running cons on the other hand? Sort of need a head for interaction or willing to entertain the art of ingratiating oneself in different situations. As far as the reasons why he doesn't mind the big man's company? Honest and uncomplicated is a good thing, sure. John more prefers the fact that he owns the fact that he doesn't much care for the mage and doesn't tiptoe around it for the sake of team dynamics.
And other assorted rubbish.
Unable to get to his pockets, his hands rest on Mick's chest, feeling that rumble through it when he growls. It earns a shiver and followed by a grin. The way he presses just close enough to keep him from reaching them and still crowd all of his senses. ]
Think you're making it pretty difficult.
[ Not a complaint. Statement of fact. The bite earns a soft hiss and John turns his head to chase after Mick's mouth again, all eager and rough. ]
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So you have preferences, but no standards?
[ Not that Mick really knows where his standards would lie. Blondie's too good for him, but that's about all he knows. Besides, she's the only one of them who's really managed to maintain any sort of thing while also being a Legend without wanting to just walk away from it all and nope not going there. He definitely doesn't miss Boyscout. ]
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Limited standards, I'd say. I've shagged Lucifer, a version of him at least. I don't think I get to harp on about standards after that.
[ Not that he hadn't done worse before that. Point still stands. ]
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Kinky. Did he have horns?
[ It seems like a reasonable question, considering. There are so many versions of Lucifer, but real life never quite works out like the movies. Otherwise, Lucifer would be the Bedazzled version. At least, that's how Mick would like to picture the devil. ]
Can he turn into a sexy lady?
[ Maybe he should get started on a new novel... ]
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[ And that wasn't even getting into the booze. Good stuff too. Rich man's scotch always leaves an aftertaste though, even if it's the best. He'll take cheap swill with somebody like Mick over that any day. He grins at the question. ]
Not that I've seen but I know a potion or two that can do that.
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[ Mick actually looks a little more interested in that potion than he'd like to admit, but who hasn't wondered about things like that? At the very least, it would make his writing more accurate. That's what he tells himself, anyway. ]
For how long?
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[ He offers a pointed look and takes another swig of his beer. Humming in thought, he shrugs a little. He's hardly one to judge. Then again, he's debated testing them out himself. You know, for curiosity's sake. ]
Half-day to a day tops.
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[ He gives an appraising look, like he's discovered a new angle to look at him from, and pulls a little notepad out of his pocket. ]
You're into some freaky shit, aren't you? I bet you could star in a really weird story.
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[ He says with a serious enough face. Though the notebook comes out and his expression softens. ]
You going to try and turn that into a reality, then? You'd need material for that.
[ Was that a little too on the nose? ]
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[ It takes Mick a moment to realize what he just implied and then he frowns. Great. Now he's picturing a lot of things he would have been just as happy not to picture and maybe a few things he doesn't completely hate.
Of course, there's a pause in there that lasts a little longer than he might have meant it to. ]
Huh.
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[ Fine, he said it. Happy? ]
I can't rightly tell if that's an interested huh or I've just left you gobsmacked.
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Trying to figure out how annoying you'd be in bed.
[ Which is mostly a lie, but Mick Rory's never honest when it would work against him and he isn't going to start now, so deflection it is. ]
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Depends on how good you are with what you've got, doesn't it?
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[ Because this is absolutely the kind of bait Mick can't back away from. ]
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[ But it's maybe the sort that he should've backed away from. How far is he willing to go down this particular rabbit hole? ]
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[ Mick doesn't bother to hide his curiosity now, but he can't help feeling unsteady on his feet. He walks a fine line of following but still feeling in control most of the time. He doesn't like being caught off guard, but that's just where he feels like he's being backed into right now. He wants to take control back and he lets his gut take him there.
Grabbing the lapel of Constantine's coat, he yanks the man back towards the bathroom. ]
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The old hinges on the door squeak as it gets pushed open and it's blessedly empty by the time they come to a stop inside. He half-leers at Mick. ]
Got us here to yourself then, now what, eh?
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[ He lets go long enough to lock the door because he's a little too worried about his own decision-making abilities right now to worry about anyone else needing to get in here. Between his strength and Trench Coat's magic, he's sure the other man wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be, which really leaves Mick with more questions than answers. ]
You'd better not have any demonic STDs.
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[ Said as he surges close, chest to chest with the slightly taller man. He's got a couple of inches on him but he's not about to back down so easy. No, he want's to push a bit more. Make him work for it. He offers a rusty laugh. ]
I don't and I've got protection on me besides. I'm not daft.
[ If the big man isn't going to make the first move then John will. He reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and draw him down into a kiss that is more teeth than anything. Sharp and biting. ]
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If he's doing this, he's not doing it halfway. ]
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Breaking away to drag in a breath, he offers a bite just a little off from a nip to his bottom lip, tugging a bit before letting it go. ]
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His hands find slim hips and while he's not trying to leave bruises, he's not exactly trying to avoid it, either. Trapping Constantine between his own body and the sink, he presses his thigh between the other man's legs. ]
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Though a big part of that might also be how he's seen or feels he's seen by the rest of the Waverider crew. Sure, he and Mick don't get on all the time but that's because their personalities are all sharp edges needing smoothing out. The reason for the former is based on past actions that he had no part in that set his teeth on edge the more he hears about any of it. Something he hopes to banish from the thoughts of the man who has him pinned between his body and the sink at least for a little while.
He refocuses his attention at the grip of Mick's hands, his own mouth finding the other man's for another bruising kiss as his legs shift to accommodate the thigh pressed between them. A muffled sound of encouragement leaves him as he's not quite ready to break away from the kiss. The music of the band is muffled by the locked door, and the sound of him finally getting Mick's belt and fly undone is better than the music they'd had going out there. Sorry.
Crowded as he is, it doesn't bode for trying to get to his pockets for lube or condoms. Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss enough to talk, panting a little to catch his breath. ] Gotta let me get to my pockets, mate.
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At least, he thinks he is.
He growls into the kiss, chest vibrating with it, and as the other man tries to get to his pockets Mick's got half a mind to make it harder just to be contrary. There's a part of him that likes the rough edges between them and wants to dig into them like pressing on a bruise. He wants Constantine to squirm for him, to lose all that swagger and composure. ]
Who's stopping you?
[ He bites at Constantine's jaw, not enough to bruise, but not quite playful either. ]
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And other assorted rubbish.
Unable to get to his pockets, his hands rest on Mick's chest, feeling that rumble through it when he growls. It earns a shiver and followed by a grin. The way he presses just close enough to keep him from reaching them and still crowd all of his senses. ]
Think you're making it pretty difficult.
[ Not a complaint. Statement of fact. The bite earns a soft hiss and John turns his head to chase after Mick's mouth again, all eager and rough. ]