thedressingroom | (no subject)

You horny bastard. Try setting for one and see how it feels.

Yeah? And what'm I s'posed to do with the other, uh... three, I think, livin' with me?

[He has something of a harem situation going on at the moment.]

There's this amazing new invention, it's called 'don't have sex with everything that moves.'

That's a new invention, huh? Mm, well, I s'pose it would be to you~

An' screw you, I only have sex with half the things that move. Tell me you ain't all monogamous an' shit now.

I'm attempting it. It's... Interesting. You don't realize how much you miss tits when you're on a steady diet of dick.

Jesus fuck, not you too. But that last thing I totally get; I've only been with one chick in the past month. Chicks're less inclined to screw me than dudes, apparently.

Women tend to have standards, yeah.

Yeah. Damn them.

I know this amazin' girl, a changeling, says she's in love with me but she's seriously uptight 'bout sex. Won't even let me take her clothes off.

You could at least blink when I insult you. Damn, you're a harder nut to crack than Arashi.

Women are like that. They got a lot more to lose when it comes to sex, you know?

I'll take that as a compliment. 'Sides, insults were always how y'showed your affection, dumbass.

[He grins, flicking playfully at Harvestman's nose.]

Mm, I s'pose. She ain't a blushin' virgin -- Spring court, desire gives her power -- it's just a... thing. Says she wants t'do some sub/dom thing with me, but she's waitin' for the right time.

[he snorts]

Yeah, well, you'll notice I don't got a horde of ladies pounding down my door either. You let'em do it in their own time, or you don't get none at all.

[He snickers, a finger straying through Harvestman's hair before he draws back against the wall, lighting a cigarette.]

An' when was the last time you got one of 'em comin' to you, mm?

[He turns away from the light, the quick cringe at the sound of it gone as fast as it come. That's all he asked for, anyway, warning. He could handle fire as long as he wasn't looking.]

I ain't tried in a long ass time. I usually pay for it, if hard up.

Shit, sorry sweetheart. Been so long, I forgot.

[He slides the lighter back into his pocket quickly, as though that'll somehow help.]

You pay? That a new thing? Last time I checked, you were the one gettin' paid.

[He shrugs, as if the lighter is no big deal.]

I pay women. Men are easy; they ask for it, they pay for it. If they don't, I just take it. I've hurt too many women to treat them with anything less than care and respect.

'Sides. What I want from women, they usually like getting paid for.

You ain't hurt any men, then?

[Silently, he asks the room for a large sofa, and lets himself sprawl down onto it when the place complies, resting his uncomfortably-heeled leather boots on the arm.]

I still got an issue with payin' for sex. Wish I didn't, sometimes; 'least then I'd see more tits.

I hurt lots of men. They usually had it coming. The women never did.

[Why is he wearing... nevermind, his boyfriend wears make-up. He will never fit in with the gothic/hip crowd.]

It's a business. Sex work makes the world go 'round.

Edited 2013-07-08 02:49 (UTC)

S'pose that's a fair distinction.

[The knee-high horrors aren't the worst part: he's also wearing black denim too-short shorts and a neon pink shirt that is too shredded to really be a shirt. There may have been a party at his club when the room snatched him.]

I don't gotta problem with prostitution, y'know that. Prob'ly just me bein' an arrogant motherfucker.

Replace that probably with 'definitely' and you got your answer. I gotta get going, but hey. Least you're not dead and shit.

Fine, fine, definitely. Yeah, I gotta life an' a party to get back to soon anyway, what with the not bein' dead an' all.

[As a testament to how much Skye has changed, he drops his cigarette into a room-conjured ashtray to dart forward and kiss Harvestman on the cheek, grinning, before he returns to lounging and picks up the cancer stick.]

Take care, an' all that shit.

[He's genuinely surprised by this - whatever drugs those dates of Skye's been slipping him must be great - but just smiles.]

Yeah, sure. Don't get vamp-eaten, all that.

Right, you gotta permanent claim to my neck, got it.

[He sticks out his tongue, putting his feet up again and laying back.]

Tell that asshole I say hey.