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tampered2006-12-30 06:06 pm
silkcutremix.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-12-30 06:06 pm
Log; Complete
When; Backlog; Dec. 29
Rating; R for really weird gray areas EVERYWHAR
Characters; John Constantine (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silkcutremix), The Corinthian (bitingnightmare)
Summary; "John, if all that was left of you was your fucking smile with a cigarette sticking out of it you'd still be more of a man than you know..."
Log;
John had been tense throughout the day, something seeming to have gripped him from behind, knotting his innards with some sort of unseen stress. Thus was the way of the magic man getting back into his step in his quest for youth, taking that step ahead. For the time being, he was on the couch with a bottle of the hard stuff, gazing blankly out at the silent boxy husk of Twonky. Never did exorcise the poor bastard. Probably won't ever will if his guts were correct.
The cigarette in his other hand smoldered.
~~~~~~
A little meeting with the bird had called the reluctant Corinthian away from the apartment for an hour or so. The blonde's intensity hadn't escaped his notice upon his return, neither had the hard stuff. Jager today? He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the back of the couch. Huff. He ran his fingers through white-blonde hair.
"What's eating you," asked the nightmare, standing before Constantine. Could never resist an open bottle.. he took a seat beside the magus and stole the shot glass for a pour, if there was a shot glass to begin with.
~~~~~~
If Cori had strained to listen, Constantine might have unconsciously growled but his hand released, as they were men, not animals, and allowed the nightmare his fill. His eyes had for once changed their focus, offering his companion a sort of faint look. It was easy to be the laughing magician when the world ended and everything was tied up, but here was not the case, especially when he had been lying for a month to someone he shouldn't have, nor deserved to be lied to.
Built on lies. Everything was. Stable as a house of bloody cards. His hand looked bad without an ace up the sleeve to spare.
"World's ending. Don't pour all of it."
~~~~~~
Oh yeah, he heard it, and that's what kept him in tune with John's mood. At the same time the nightmare had learned never to back down. He poured a shot of that booze into the glass and tipped it back without issue. Damned if they didn't keep enough liquor to stock up a bar in that studio. He tapped the glass on the table, considering another, but the Englishman's words pulled his attention away from the bottle.
"Excuse me," asked the nightmare, arching a brow. Not some more sour shit from their brief house guest the other day.
~~~~~~
"Not kidding." John's voice was distant and dry, those deep blue eyes dull. As an aside, he muttered: "Not really the problem either."
~~~~~~
"What makes you say that," he replied, averting his gaze briefly to huff. That cigarette smelled good these days, a silkie to one of his sevens, but the Corinthian didn't reach for his pack.
~~~~~~
Moment of silence, then John then shook his head in a motion to brush aside the whole issue. "Aw, shit, look, it's nothing."
~~~~~~
Cori pushed his glasses up. "No. What's wrong," he asked in a steady tone, serious. If this had John of all people in a mood it had to be something major, and... He almost thought it was her.
~~~~~~
A hand darted out, grabbing a fistful of that white-blonde hair, puling the head towards his own, ears to his lips, brushing as he spoke, breath warm. "Cori." The voice was now firm. "I felt it."
~~~~~~
What. The nightmare pulled back briefly when the magus grabbed him by the hair. The very gesture elicited a brief and subtle hiss from his eyes. Instead he adjusted his glasses, confident the Englishman wasn't going to overstep his bounds. "You're going to tell me what you mean," he spoke in a quiet and cool tone, "then you're going to let me go."
~~~~~~
John helped himself to his tongue grazing the nightmare's earlobe, before nipping it. Best to enjoy all the little things. "I felt the world shrug and decide it was going to call it a day, mate. Infinite bloody crisis!" The hand released.
~~~~~~
John was... being unusual. The harsh grab coupled with his serious words, followed by the lick and nip to his ear threatened to give him a throbbing hard on. Cori maintained his composure though and shook his head slightly as soon as John released him.
"You're fucking serious. What's it mean for you and me," asked the nightmare, almost as if the deaths of this world and other ones meant less to him than the death of their--well 'relationship' was the technical term, or maybe he was taking the news with a grain of salt. Hard to tell.
~~~~~~
"You an' me? Think you might want to call it off now." There was a look in the magus' eyes, a sad, distant and demented look prompted by the teeth of the beast and its weight in his belly.
~~~~~~
Even behind his smoky black shades Cori could see a world threatening to have its doors closed in his blue eyes. He huffed softly again, this time sounding a low hn. "Don't joke around with me, John," he said to the blonde, recalling the lighter he'd given to the other only a few days ago.
~~~~~~
"I can deal with the world ending," John muttered, turning back to static, dormant Twonky. He momentarily yelped when the cigarette, having burned for so long forgotten, had stung his fingers, the butt dropping to the floor, bouncing and glowing as it left ash.
~~~~~~
"... Fuck it's like pulling teeth," he said out of frustration, hardly fazed by the burn to John's fingers. Saw it coming, didn't warn him considering the grab on his hair, however pleasant it shouldn't have felt. Regardless of the man's action and his rather morbid news, Cori reached over to take his hand and press those burned fingertips to his lips.
~~~~~~
This was a hook through the magus's tainted heart. He simply couldn't take it anymore. The hand was jerked away as if those lips were as hot as the cigarette butt had been. "Cori, I... That's not all of it, Cori."
~~~~~~
Cori stared silently at the empty space where John's hand had been. After a moment, he brought his hands down to his knees. "Tell me, John," he said calmly, steadily, "tell me about her."
~~~~~~
John's voice was slow. "What do you know about her?"
~~~~~~
"Not enough," he admitted quietly, "you go out a few nights, come back to the shower."
~~~~~~
"Then," those blue eyes reflecting something... different, "how would you feel if... she was not quite what you were thinking of?"
~~~~~~
"Look at me and tell me what you think I'm thinking of," he said as he turned to the Englishman. Hard to emote when you had teeth for eyes and a general air of frigidness, but Cori was a little hurt, confused because he felt he shouldn't be hurt, disappointed in himself, it was too soon. He liked the magician, he did, but he didn't understand Constantine as much as he liked to.
~~~~~~
The eyes met those shades. Constantine could almost make out those cold teeth behind them.
"Beautiful white-blonde. Bit thin. Lovely in her own right. Prefers moonlit strolls through the park. Dominant personality. Shags on the first date."
~~~~~~
His shifted his gaze away from John's eyes and took the shot glass in his hand, but Cori didn't pour another. He simply tilted the thing on its bottom edge, around in small circles on the coffee table. "Not much of a talker, somewhat detached, though she wants a lifemate over multiple partners," the Corinthian added to the magus' list. There was a lot one could tell about a girl by the way her partner snuck around to be with her, that is if they were even talking about a woman.
~~~~~~
"Not sure about that." John's eyes were closed. His hurt hand was balled into a loose fist, working and squeezing nothing. "Bit lonely she was. Barely making it on her own."
~~~~~~
Lonely, John had to use that word didn't he? The very sound of it made his lip want to curl in a snarl. Cori had a hard time maintaining a balance between anger and disappointment. He huffed softly again, his voice so quiet one could hear the barren halls of the citadel in it. "If you wanted it to be like that you could have just told me."
~~~~~~
The magus' head fell in his hands. "Fuck it. I did something stupid. I did something really stupid, and I'm paying for it. Oh Christ, I'm still paying for it..."
~~~~~~
Damn right you fucked up, stupid old bastard, Cori thought to himself, hands tensed just slightly over his confession.
The nightly visits, the showers, but the smell of the magus' skin... It didn't smell like it, not like that one night. He didn't know John Constantine extremely well, at the same time he could tell the story of the man's body, knew every corner of it now. The Englishman was either using his magic or.... The nightmare rubbed his temple, feeling a headache.
"Did you knock her up," he asked without a hint of judgment, it was just a question.
~~~~~~
The voice was a quiet hiss: "Yes."
~~~~~~
He brought both hands to his temples. That explained everything, really, and it was sad that it did. Any other time the nightmare would have laughed at the magic man, but not now, not since he became his nightmare... Too many mistakes swept under the rug, Cori did not want to make another, not if John was right about the world ending. Was it that that brought the confession out?
"Shit, shit," he hissed to himself, didn't know what else to say. A rare moment, he pushed his sunglasses up and rubbed at his teeth eyes.
~~~~~~
"That's not the half of it. She," sigh, had Cori figured it out by now? "She is not... even a woman. Fickle as one but not the same. Cori, what does that make me? What am I?"
Stupid.
~~~~~~
"Stupid," Cori answered appropriately. He was a mirror after all, and maybe John had reasons for shagging this woman, there was no excuse for not putting on a damn condom. Hell hadn't he demonstrated safe sex before? And yet he reached out to drape his arm across the blonde's shoulders, hand to the back of John's neck. No he wasn't thinking about snapping it or strangling Constantine, he rubbed at the muscles there, tense wasn't he.
"What," the nightmare's hand stopped briefly. Now he expected John to have gotten into some mess with a succubus or a siren or an angel or hell maybe even an alien.
~~~~~~
Constantine flinched from the touch, turning the nightmare, making partial eye contact. The nightmare was a mirror, the magus reflected in those shades. A mirror was truth. He did not yield, frank in the underlining statement of this whole mess, the blight that had been festering for a month:
"Wanker. I fucked a dog." It was blunt, there, in all of its brutal honesty. "I fucked a dog."
~~~~~~
"......." His hand dropped, but only from John's neck to his shoulder.
Speechless wasn't quite the word. See, there were things Cori wanted to say to that, but he wasn't quite sure which, and he cared too much for John to let just about anything dive off the tip of his tongue. Even his teeth eyes appeared slightly agape behind his sunglasses. "This...." choose wisely, little nightmare, "... full moon..? No, a wolf."
~~~~~~
"Shapeshifting," John began, turning away back to the front, still a miserable hunch, "is risky business. S'why I avoided it. Messy, more trouble than it's worth unless you're seeking revenge on some bloke and turning him into a frog, and shit, you don't care about what happens to him then. Doing it yourself, well, some don't make it all the way, those that do typically don't plan for it right and something fucks up. Magic flux, pain tolerance, mass, spell duration, instincts... Cori, I was stupid. I thought I had it under control when you were madder than shite, so I went out for a run. S'what every stupid mage that figured it out finally does, you know? Test it out. I did.
"And then I smelled her. Cori, you have no idea what it's like. I couldn't help meself. I had to have her. No, body did. Went along with it. I couldn't stop meself if I tried anyway. Bloody scary becoming a slave to your most carnal desires, but I found her. I found her and I courted her. Then I shagged her. All of it was fucking automatic. Body knew what it was doing, but... shit, mate. Look what it's doing to me. You don't have sex in another shape and expect to come out of it with a right mind. That's a good and proper way to fuck yourself up. Fucking like that basically told me unconsciously, spiritually, that it's okay to be a goddamned animal." The magus' head snapped back to Cori. "Look what it's doing to me. Thank Christ the world is ending." (Quietly, he muttered: "I might have the luxury of dying a man.")
~~~~~~
He listened to every word John had to say over the matter, from the perils of transfiguration to the follies of becoming an animal himself. He listened patiently, as any dark mirror would, a loyal phantom despite the story of wanton lust between the wolf within the magician and the real one that roamed the woods, how this union was going to yield god knows what if the bitch was pregnant with his... his puppies. However, that wasn't the problem at hand. Cori waited for John to finish, right down to that oh so quiet mutter. Finished? Thought so.
He balled his fist and threw out a cuff to the Englishman's stubbly jaw, hardly the powerful break to the nose he'd caused not too long ago, but the nightmare was demanding his attention. To emphasize that point he didn't bother letting John reel from it before he made a grab at the man's shirt, to bring him in face to face, blue eye to teeth eye. "Don't go off the deep end on me," he demanded with maybe even a hint of threat, because he cared for him.
~~~~~~
John should have been used to these cracks against his jaw. Fuck, Cori might as well have been a toothy-eyed, motorcyclist Chas, only he fucked Chas on a regular basis with the magic bollocks rather than in his arse. His hands, rough with age, grasped at Cori's as they held him. "I think I already plunged, mate..."
~~~~~~
"You're a fucking liar," said the toothy-eyed motorcyclist not from London. Even with John's hands on his wrists the Corinthian didn't let go. He kept his grip firm, face to face. If only he'd caught one of those curses from last week, he would have wished he could look into John's eyes without the shades. "Yeah I'll admit you'd be one of the first to cut me the way you did, congratulations, but don't think for one second your fuck up is worth the end of all this and everything I've been working for, John Constantine. Fuck if I'm going to let you drag your damn soul in the mud because you can't fathom living with your mistake. You're not that old and you're not that weak."
~~~~~~
Yes. He was John Constantine, not some stupid mage who had winded up fighting a losing battle against a really shitty mistake. Won't have to be living with it for long anyway. A smile crept across his face, his nails perhaps a little bit sharper.
"Tell me: What have you been working for, Cori?"
~~~~~~
What. He was smiling after his unbearably serious and unbearably telling speech? He felt those nails, owed it to John not appreciating the hold he kept on the man's shirt. Despite the question that threatened to bring his guard down Cori did not move back even a centimeter. He huffed again, softly and a little warm. Perhaps a confession for a confession was in order.
"Not being alone, being able to make someone else and myself happy."
~~~~~~
John's blue gaze softened from the lick of borderline madness that had flickered across them. The nails, claws, relaxed a bit. "Cori, you do make me happy. It is me making meself miserable and fuck, you're not the first who has tried."
~~~~~~
"I can tell," he snorted briefly. Of course he knew he wasn't the first to try, and somewhere in the back of his mind Cori considered he wouldn't be the last. But enough about himself... "Don't try to sell me on the idea that you can't pick up. You had my fucking back on the floor when you put a hole through your dick for chrissake," the nightmare shook his head briefly, "your problem is you think you're running out of luck. I'll tell you, people like you don't get this far on luck, you fucking believe it."
~~~~~~
"That's the thing about gambling, mate. Sometimes you lose."
~~~~~~
Now he leaned in, closer till they were practically touching, John's rougher darker skin a contrast to his own smooth pale jaw. "Are you afraid of losing?"
~~~~~~
John smiled, the beginnings of those menacing two inch fangs trying to poke out from behind his meager human ones. "Look what losing has done to me."
~~~~~~
"Are you trying to piss me off and drive me away," he asked the supposedly mad magician in a careful tone. Disappointed, frustrated, how hard was it for him to see that?
~~~~~~
"If you know what's good for you," Constantine hissed, his brow furrowed.
~~~~~~
The nightmare replied just as quickly, "you were good for me."
~~~~~~
"You don't understand."
~~~~~~
"Then tell me, John, tell me. Talk to me." His grip on the man's shirt loosened.
~~~~~~
"You stupid arsehole." Constantine appeared normal now. "You wouldn't. I tried telling you. You wouldn't."
~~~~~~
"What," didn't like being called a stupid arsehole, not in this context. However this concerned the Corinthian, his brow furrowing over something he missed. Hadn't he been listening, trying to be the best he could be for Constantine.... No, there was that one thing he wouldn't do. This realization struck the nightmare like a good blade between the ribs.
"..... Is that what this is about, empathy..." Funny, he came to the waking world to understand what that meant, thought he knew it enough to live with humans, but the magus was no mere mortal after all.
~~~~~~
John snorted. "You keep on forgetting: I'm a bloody mortal and you're a function. Fuck, I heard your first self already buggered that purpose bit up anyway, so maybe we are one in the same!"
~~~~~~
He let go of the blond completely, rubbed an open palm down across his face, down the shades that served as a literal barricade between his world and John's. What had John's world become anyway? Ticking clocks, nightmares, and lycanthropy. What had Cori's world become? "You're serious about this place imploding soon," he asked the Englishman, a brief switch in gears.
~~~~~~
What was Cori's world? John had been smart enough to not get caught up in any other bollocks he might have been trudging around in. What could he be hiding anyway? Enough, he decided, a finger reaching up and out as he sat back released, tapping the nightmare's shades should they be presented. "Yes, our little world is going to end and I'm fucking waiting to embrace it with open arms."
~~~~~~
He hid a lot, from the things he saw and did as that function to his feelings over the entire ordeal, John's sneaking away, how he felt being in this place, how he relied on a little play of words on a lighter to say what he wanted to say for him. Did the Englishman feel the same? He closed one eye when the man tapped his shades. "Not by yourself," he stated, somewhat resigned but still sincere.
~~~~~~
"Even if I am hardly a man, eh?" John stopped tapping, elbow against the couch back, thumb and fingers supporting his forehead.
~~~~~~
"John, if all that was left of you was your fucking smile with a cigarette sticking out of it you'd still be more of a man than you know," Cori admitted.
~~~~~~
Cocking an eyebrow, John wanted to test this theory. He stood up, removing his shirt and undoing the zip of his denim pants. Taking a silkie in his mouth, he fell over to his hands as his body slid towards that familiar lupine persuasion, the sight of human flesh complete with cracking muscle and bone being furred over with that pelt still surreal. Familiarity had allowed it to be quick, the finished result looking up at the nightmare with a white "eyebrow" still cocked. The jeans wanted to slide down from that skinnier waist. He must have looked ridiculous but that was the effect.
You're kidding me, mate. Is this a man to you?
~~~~~~
Stripping? Silkie, what? Yeah he looked ridiculous. Hella fucking ridiculous! Unfortunately the Corinthian wasn't one who laughed often, maybe he needed to change that. Ahh but rather than double over or yell at the man, the man he'd bathed in that form once, Cori just sort of stared at the challenging expression. Tch, he reached back into his jacket pocket, retrieving the plain old chrome zippo he carried and sparked the flint, offering to light the cigarette.
~~~~~~
John stared. Almost wished he could smile at this reaction, but instead he leaned forward and lit. Best way to embrace things. Guess the Corinthian understood something after all.
~~~~~~
The zippo clinked shut when he flipped the lid then set it on the table. Cori understood something, and that was that he... It was the man under the pelt, under the worn out trench coat, with the scent of Silk Cut around him. If John was right, that the city was going to collapse soon, maybe even in days... Shit talk about punching holes in his thought train. The white-blonde sighed briefly, he could live another millenia and still not grasp the scope of what it meant to be mortal the way Constantine could in a day.
He reached out to raise the wolf man's 'chin', the long muzzle, and brush his lips across the top of his nose.
~~~~~~
Already seconds and the magus' nose was cold and moist. John shut his eyes, cigarette still snug in his jaws, still hiding behind a cold wall of teeth of his own.
One in the same.
~~~~~~
Cori leaned back then, noting the wolf's closed eyes, the cigarette hanging from his teeth. It was picturesque of what a Constantine Dog should be, really. He ran his fingers through his white hair, finding no other words he could say. Maybe the place was going to fall apart, maybe not, could he let that happen and watch the opportunity fly from his fingers?
"Listen to me, I know what you're trying to do, that's fine... Maybe I deserve it, but I hope you don't forget when you're a man again," he started, reaching out to pet the wolfmagus on the furry head.
~~~~~~
Well, there was a guilty pleasure here: Cori petting him. He was ashamed to admit it but the hardened Hellblazer was a sucker for the simple canine pleasure of being petted, not that he didn't like the nightmare's fingers through his hair when it was blonde and at times a bit greasy. Still smoking, he stepped forward a bit, letting the last of those nuisance clothes drop off (human or wolf, no shame in being naked), finally jumping up to the couch to curl and place his shaggy head and forepaws on Cori's lap He was careful to not burn anything with the ciggie in his teeth, not that he hadn't already burned things through accidents anyway.
When he was a man again. Some work with that bit. Most he felt could be done involved aesthetics.
Aw, bugger. Let the world end then. Suppose he could let it come crashing down with the Corinthian in tow, the both of them cracking smiles and bottles of liquor, laughing as whoever running the joint finally flicked the light switch off.
Rating; R for really weird gray areas EVERYWHAR
Characters; John Constantine (
silkcutremix), The Corinthian (bitingnightmare)Summary; "John, if all that was left of you was your fucking smile with a cigarette sticking out of it you'd still be more of a man than you know..."
Log;
John had been tense throughout the day, something seeming to have gripped him from behind, knotting his innards with some sort of unseen stress. Thus was the way of the magic man getting back into his step in his quest for youth, taking that step ahead. For the time being, he was on the couch with a bottle of the hard stuff, gazing blankly out at the silent boxy husk of Twonky. Never did exorcise the poor bastard. Probably won't ever will if his guts were correct.
The cigarette in his other hand smoldered.
~~~~~~
A little meeting with the bird had called the reluctant Corinthian away from the apartment for an hour or so. The blonde's intensity hadn't escaped his notice upon his return, neither had the hard stuff. Jager today? He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the back of the couch. Huff. He ran his fingers through white-blonde hair.
"What's eating you," asked the nightmare, standing before Constantine. Could never resist an open bottle.. he took a seat beside the magus and stole the shot glass for a pour, if there was a shot glass to begin with.
~~~~~~
If Cori had strained to listen, Constantine might have unconsciously growled but his hand released, as they were men, not animals, and allowed the nightmare his fill. His eyes had for once changed their focus, offering his companion a sort of faint look. It was easy to be the laughing magician when the world ended and everything was tied up, but here was not the case, especially when he had been lying for a month to someone he shouldn't have, nor deserved to be lied to.
Built on lies. Everything was. Stable as a house of bloody cards. His hand looked bad without an ace up the sleeve to spare.
"World's ending. Don't pour all of it."
~~~~~~
Oh yeah, he heard it, and that's what kept him in tune with John's mood. At the same time the nightmare had learned never to back down. He poured a shot of that booze into the glass and tipped it back without issue. Damned if they didn't keep enough liquor to stock up a bar in that studio. He tapped the glass on the table, considering another, but the Englishman's words pulled his attention away from the bottle.
"Excuse me," asked the nightmare, arching a brow. Not some more sour shit from their brief house guest the other day.
~~~~~~
"Not kidding." John's voice was distant and dry, those deep blue eyes dull. As an aside, he muttered: "Not really the problem either."
~~~~~~
"What makes you say that," he replied, averting his gaze briefly to huff. That cigarette smelled good these days, a silkie to one of his sevens, but the Corinthian didn't reach for his pack.
~~~~~~
Moment of silence, then John then shook his head in a motion to brush aside the whole issue. "Aw, shit, look, it's nothing."
~~~~~~
Cori pushed his glasses up. "No. What's wrong," he asked in a steady tone, serious. If this had John of all people in a mood it had to be something major, and... He almost thought it was her.
~~~~~~
A hand darted out, grabbing a fistful of that white-blonde hair, puling the head towards his own, ears to his lips, brushing as he spoke, breath warm. "Cori." The voice was now firm. "I felt it."
~~~~~~
What. The nightmare pulled back briefly when the magus grabbed him by the hair. The very gesture elicited a brief and subtle hiss from his eyes. Instead he adjusted his glasses, confident the Englishman wasn't going to overstep his bounds. "You're going to tell me what you mean," he spoke in a quiet and cool tone, "then you're going to let me go."
~~~~~~
John helped himself to his tongue grazing the nightmare's earlobe, before nipping it. Best to enjoy all the little things. "I felt the world shrug and decide it was going to call it a day, mate. Infinite bloody crisis!" The hand released.
~~~~~~
John was... being unusual. The harsh grab coupled with his serious words, followed by the lick and nip to his ear threatened to give him a throbbing hard on. Cori maintained his composure though and shook his head slightly as soon as John released him.
"You're fucking serious. What's it mean for you and me," asked the nightmare, almost as if the deaths of this world and other ones meant less to him than the death of their--well 'relationship' was the technical term, or maybe he was taking the news with a grain of salt. Hard to tell.
~~~~~~
"You an' me? Think you might want to call it off now." There was a look in the magus' eyes, a sad, distant and demented look prompted by the teeth of the beast and its weight in his belly.
~~~~~~
Even behind his smoky black shades Cori could see a world threatening to have its doors closed in his blue eyes. He huffed softly again, this time sounding a low hn. "Don't joke around with me, John," he said to the blonde, recalling the lighter he'd given to the other only a few days ago.
~~~~~~
"I can deal with the world ending," John muttered, turning back to static, dormant Twonky. He momentarily yelped when the cigarette, having burned for so long forgotten, had stung his fingers, the butt dropping to the floor, bouncing and glowing as it left ash.
~~~~~~
"... Fuck it's like pulling teeth," he said out of frustration, hardly fazed by the burn to John's fingers. Saw it coming, didn't warn him considering the grab on his hair, however pleasant it shouldn't have felt. Regardless of the man's action and his rather morbid news, Cori reached over to take his hand and press those burned fingertips to his lips.
~~~~~~
This was a hook through the magus's tainted heart. He simply couldn't take it anymore. The hand was jerked away as if those lips were as hot as the cigarette butt had been. "Cori, I... That's not all of it, Cori."
~~~~~~
Cori stared silently at the empty space where John's hand had been. After a moment, he brought his hands down to his knees. "Tell me, John," he said calmly, steadily, "tell me about her."
~~~~~~
John's voice was slow. "What do you know about her?"
~~~~~~
"Not enough," he admitted quietly, "you go out a few nights, come back to the shower."
~~~~~~
"Then," those blue eyes reflecting something... different, "how would you feel if... she was not quite what you were thinking of?"
~~~~~~
"Look at me and tell me what you think I'm thinking of," he said as he turned to the Englishman. Hard to emote when you had teeth for eyes and a general air of frigidness, but Cori was a little hurt, confused because he felt he shouldn't be hurt, disappointed in himself, it was too soon. He liked the magician, he did, but he didn't understand Constantine as much as he liked to.
~~~~~~
The eyes met those shades. Constantine could almost make out those cold teeth behind them.
"Beautiful white-blonde. Bit thin. Lovely in her own right. Prefers moonlit strolls through the park. Dominant personality. Shags on the first date."
~~~~~~
His shifted his gaze away from John's eyes and took the shot glass in his hand, but Cori didn't pour another. He simply tilted the thing on its bottom edge, around in small circles on the coffee table. "Not much of a talker, somewhat detached, though she wants a lifemate over multiple partners," the Corinthian added to the magus' list. There was a lot one could tell about a girl by the way her partner snuck around to be with her, that is if they were even talking about a woman.
~~~~~~
"Not sure about that." John's eyes were closed. His hurt hand was balled into a loose fist, working and squeezing nothing. "Bit lonely she was. Barely making it on her own."
~~~~~~
Lonely, John had to use that word didn't he? The very sound of it made his lip want to curl in a snarl. Cori had a hard time maintaining a balance between anger and disappointment. He huffed softly again, his voice so quiet one could hear the barren halls of the citadel in it. "If you wanted it to be like that you could have just told me."
~~~~~~
The magus' head fell in his hands. "Fuck it. I did something stupid. I did something really stupid, and I'm paying for it. Oh Christ, I'm still paying for it..."
~~~~~~
Damn right you fucked up, stupid old bastard, Cori thought to himself, hands tensed just slightly over his confession.
The nightly visits, the showers, but the smell of the magus' skin... It didn't smell like it, not like that one night. He didn't know John Constantine extremely well, at the same time he could tell the story of the man's body, knew every corner of it now. The Englishman was either using his magic or.... The nightmare rubbed his temple, feeling a headache.
"Did you knock her up," he asked without a hint of judgment, it was just a question.
~~~~~~
The voice was a quiet hiss: "Yes."
~~~~~~
He brought both hands to his temples. That explained everything, really, and it was sad that it did. Any other time the nightmare would have laughed at the magic man, but not now, not since he became his nightmare... Too many mistakes swept under the rug, Cori did not want to make another, not if John was right about the world ending. Was it that that brought the confession out?
"Shit, shit," he hissed to himself, didn't know what else to say. A rare moment, he pushed his sunglasses up and rubbed at his teeth eyes.
~~~~~~
"That's not the half of it. She," sigh, had Cori figured it out by now? "She is not... even a woman. Fickle as one but not the same. Cori, what does that make me? What am I?"
Stupid.
~~~~~~
"Stupid," Cori answered appropriately. He was a mirror after all, and maybe John had reasons for shagging this woman, there was no excuse for not putting on a damn condom. Hell hadn't he demonstrated safe sex before? And yet he reached out to drape his arm across the blonde's shoulders, hand to the back of John's neck. No he wasn't thinking about snapping it or strangling Constantine, he rubbed at the muscles there, tense wasn't he.
"What," the nightmare's hand stopped briefly. Now he expected John to have gotten into some mess with a succubus or a siren or an angel or hell maybe even an alien.
~~~~~~
Constantine flinched from the touch, turning the nightmare, making partial eye contact. The nightmare was a mirror, the magus reflected in those shades. A mirror was truth. He did not yield, frank in the underlining statement of this whole mess, the blight that had been festering for a month:
"Wanker. I fucked a dog." It was blunt, there, in all of its brutal honesty. "I fucked a dog."
~~~~~~
"......." His hand dropped, but only from John's neck to his shoulder.
Speechless wasn't quite the word. See, there were things Cori wanted to say to that, but he wasn't quite sure which, and he cared too much for John to let just about anything dive off the tip of his tongue. Even his teeth eyes appeared slightly agape behind his sunglasses. "This...." choose wisely, little nightmare, "... full moon..? No, a wolf."
~~~~~~
"Shapeshifting," John began, turning away back to the front, still a miserable hunch, "is risky business. S'why I avoided it. Messy, more trouble than it's worth unless you're seeking revenge on some bloke and turning him into a frog, and shit, you don't care about what happens to him then. Doing it yourself, well, some don't make it all the way, those that do typically don't plan for it right and something fucks up. Magic flux, pain tolerance, mass, spell duration, instincts... Cori, I was stupid. I thought I had it under control when you were madder than shite, so I went out for a run. S'what every stupid mage that figured it out finally does, you know? Test it out. I did.
"And then I smelled her. Cori, you have no idea what it's like. I couldn't help meself. I had to have her. No, body did. Went along with it. I couldn't stop meself if I tried anyway. Bloody scary becoming a slave to your most carnal desires, but I found her. I found her and I courted her. Then I shagged her. All of it was fucking automatic. Body knew what it was doing, but... shit, mate. Look what it's doing to me. You don't have sex in another shape and expect to come out of it with a right mind. That's a good and proper way to fuck yourself up. Fucking like that basically told me unconsciously, spiritually, that it's okay to be a goddamned animal." The magus' head snapped back to Cori. "Look what it's doing to me. Thank Christ the world is ending." (Quietly, he muttered: "I might have the luxury of dying a man.")
~~~~~~
He listened to every word John had to say over the matter, from the perils of transfiguration to the follies of becoming an animal himself. He listened patiently, as any dark mirror would, a loyal phantom despite the story of wanton lust between the wolf within the magician and the real one that roamed the woods, how this union was going to yield god knows what if the bitch was pregnant with his... his puppies. However, that wasn't the problem at hand. Cori waited for John to finish, right down to that oh so quiet mutter. Finished? Thought so.
He balled his fist and threw out a cuff to the Englishman's stubbly jaw, hardly the powerful break to the nose he'd caused not too long ago, but the nightmare was demanding his attention. To emphasize that point he didn't bother letting John reel from it before he made a grab at the man's shirt, to bring him in face to face, blue eye to teeth eye. "Don't go off the deep end on me," he demanded with maybe even a hint of threat, because he cared for him.
~~~~~~
John should have been used to these cracks against his jaw. Fuck, Cori might as well have been a toothy-eyed, motorcyclist Chas, only he fucked Chas on a regular basis with the magic bollocks rather than in his arse. His hands, rough with age, grasped at Cori's as they held him. "I think I already plunged, mate..."
~~~~~~
"You're a fucking liar," said the toothy-eyed motorcyclist not from London. Even with John's hands on his wrists the Corinthian didn't let go. He kept his grip firm, face to face. If only he'd caught one of those curses from last week, he would have wished he could look into John's eyes without the shades. "Yeah I'll admit you'd be one of the first to cut me the way you did, congratulations, but don't think for one second your fuck up is worth the end of all this and everything I've been working for, John Constantine. Fuck if I'm going to let you drag your damn soul in the mud because you can't fathom living with your mistake. You're not that old and you're not that weak."
~~~~~~
Yes. He was John Constantine, not some stupid mage who had winded up fighting a losing battle against a really shitty mistake. Won't have to be living with it for long anyway. A smile crept across his face, his nails perhaps a little bit sharper.
"Tell me: What have you been working for, Cori?"
~~~~~~
What. He was smiling after his unbearably serious and unbearably telling speech? He felt those nails, owed it to John not appreciating the hold he kept on the man's shirt. Despite the question that threatened to bring his guard down Cori did not move back even a centimeter. He huffed again, softly and a little warm. Perhaps a confession for a confession was in order.
"Not being alone, being able to make someone else and myself happy."
~~~~~~
John's blue gaze softened from the lick of borderline madness that had flickered across them. The nails, claws, relaxed a bit. "Cori, you do make me happy. It is me making meself miserable and fuck, you're not the first who has tried."
~~~~~~
"I can tell," he snorted briefly. Of course he knew he wasn't the first to try, and somewhere in the back of his mind Cori considered he wouldn't be the last. But enough about himself... "Don't try to sell me on the idea that you can't pick up. You had my fucking back on the floor when you put a hole through your dick for chrissake," the nightmare shook his head briefly, "your problem is you think you're running out of luck. I'll tell you, people like you don't get this far on luck, you fucking believe it."
~~~~~~
"That's the thing about gambling, mate. Sometimes you lose."
~~~~~~
Now he leaned in, closer till they were practically touching, John's rougher darker skin a contrast to his own smooth pale jaw. "Are you afraid of losing?"
~~~~~~
John smiled, the beginnings of those menacing two inch fangs trying to poke out from behind his meager human ones. "Look what losing has done to me."
~~~~~~
"Are you trying to piss me off and drive me away," he asked the supposedly mad magician in a careful tone. Disappointed, frustrated, how hard was it for him to see that?
~~~~~~
"If you know what's good for you," Constantine hissed, his brow furrowed.
~~~~~~
The nightmare replied just as quickly, "you were good for me."
~~~~~~
"You don't understand."
~~~~~~
"Then tell me, John, tell me. Talk to me." His grip on the man's shirt loosened.
~~~~~~
"You stupid arsehole." Constantine appeared normal now. "You wouldn't. I tried telling you. You wouldn't."
~~~~~~
"What," didn't like being called a stupid arsehole, not in this context. However this concerned the Corinthian, his brow furrowing over something he missed. Hadn't he been listening, trying to be the best he could be for Constantine.... No, there was that one thing he wouldn't do. This realization struck the nightmare like a good blade between the ribs.
"..... Is that what this is about, empathy..." Funny, he came to the waking world to understand what that meant, thought he knew it enough to live with humans, but the magus was no mere mortal after all.
~~~~~~
John snorted. "You keep on forgetting: I'm a bloody mortal and you're a function. Fuck, I heard your first self already buggered that purpose bit up anyway, so maybe we are one in the same!"
~~~~~~
He let go of the blond completely, rubbed an open palm down across his face, down the shades that served as a literal barricade between his world and John's. What had John's world become anyway? Ticking clocks, nightmares, and lycanthropy. What had Cori's world become? "You're serious about this place imploding soon," he asked the Englishman, a brief switch in gears.
~~~~~~
What was Cori's world? John had been smart enough to not get caught up in any other bollocks he might have been trudging around in. What could he be hiding anyway? Enough, he decided, a finger reaching up and out as he sat back released, tapping the nightmare's shades should they be presented. "Yes, our little world is going to end and I'm fucking waiting to embrace it with open arms."
~~~~~~
He hid a lot, from the things he saw and did as that function to his feelings over the entire ordeal, John's sneaking away, how he felt being in this place, how he relied on a little play of words on a lighter to say what he wanted to say for him. Did the Englishman feel the same? He closed one eye when the man tapped his shades. "Not by yourself," he stated, somewhat resigned but still sincere.
~~~~~~
"Even if I am hardly a man, eh?" John stopped tapping, elbow against the couch back, thumb and fingers supporting his forehead.
~~~~~~
"John, if all that was left of you was your fucking smile with a cigarette sticking out of it you'd still be more of a man than you know," Cori admitted.
~~~~~~
Cocking an eyebrow, John wanted to test this theory. He stood up, removing his shirt and undoing the zip of his denim pants. Taking a silkie in his mouth, he fell over to his hands as his body slid towards that familiar lupine persuasion, the sight of human flesh complete with cracking muscle and bone being furred over with that pelt still surreal. Familiarity had allowed it to be quick, the finished result looking up at the nightmare with a white "eyebrow" still cocked. The jeans wanted to slide down from that skinnier waist. He must have looked ridiculous but that was the effect.
You're kidding me, mate. Is this a man to you?
~~~~~~
Stripping? Silkie, what? Yeah he looked ridiculous. Hella fucking ridiculous! Unfortunately the Corinthian wasn't one who laughed often, maybe he needed to change that. Ahh but rather than double over or yell at the man, the man he'd bathed in that form once, Cori just sort of stared at the challenging expression. Tch, he reached back into his jacket pocket, retrieving the plain old chrome zippo he carried and sparked the flint, offering to light the cigarette.
~~~~~~
John stared. Almost wished he could smile at this reaction, but instead he leaned forward and lit. Best way to embrace things. Guess the Corinthian understood something after all.
~~~~~~
The zippo clinked shut when he flipped the lid then set it on the table. Cori understood something, and that was that he... It was the man under the pelt, under the worn out trench coat, with the scent of Silk Cut around him. If John was right, that the city was going to collapse soon, maybe even in days... Shit talk about punching holes in his thought train. The white-blonde sighed briefly, he could live another millenia and still not grasp the scope of what it meant to be mortal the way Constantine could in a day.
He reached out to raise the wolf man's 'chin', the long muzzle, and brush his lips across the top of his nose.
~~~~~~
Already seconds and the magus' nose was cold and moist. John shut his eyes, cigarette still snug in his jaws, still hiding behind a cold wall of teeth of his own.
One in the same.
~~~~~~
Cori leaned back then, noting the wolf's closed eyes, the cigarette hanging from his teeth. It was picturesque of what a Constantine Dog should be, really. He ran his fingers through his white hair, finding no other words he could say. Maybe the place was going to fall apart, maybe not, could he let that happen and watch the opportunity fly from his fingers?
"Listen to me, I know what you're trying to do, that's fine... Maybe I deserve it, but I hope you don't forget when you're a man again," he started, reaching out to pet the wolfmagus on the furry head.
~~~~~~
Well, there was a guilty pleasure here: Cori petting him. He was ashamed to admit it but the hardened Hellblazer was a sucker for the simple canine pleasure of being petted, not that he didn't like the nightmare's fingers through his hair when it was blonde and at times a bit greasy. Still smoking, he stepped forward a bit, letting the last of those nuisance clothes drop off (human or wolf, no shame in being naked), finally jumping up to the couch to curl and place his shaggy head and forepaws on Cori's lap He was careful to not burn anything with the ciggie in his teeth, not that he hadn't already burned things through accidents anyway.
When he was a man again. Some work with that bit. Most he felt could be done involved aesthetics.
Aw, bugger. Let the world end then. Suppose he could let it come crashing down with the Corinthian in tow, the both of them cracking smiles and bottles of liquor, laughing as whoever running the joint finally flicked the light switch off.