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tampered2007-03-01 02:59 am
despairingdream.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-03-01 02:59 am
Log ;; Complete.
When; February 28th, night-time
Rating; L for Leon [Language, bit of blood].
Characters; Leon Orcot (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
detectiveorcot), Count D (despairingdream)
Summary; After Count D wakes Leon receives a bit more than he'd bargained for in requesting an explanation.
Log;
Leon: He'd... Well, he wasn't -embarrassed- exactly, more like slightly put out; though he was doing his best to ignore the previous circumstances like D apparently was - except he was sulking; curled up slightly on the sofa. He hadn't even bothered running his fingers through his hair - it was a mess. So he was left watching the Count through the strands falling in front of his face, eyes slightly narrowed.
Count D: D himself had taken to acting--quite naturally--as if nothing at all had happened. Such hadn't before, at least in front of the Detective--of course, he had faltered in the past, Leon had seen weakness in him, but not to such a degree. If he was lucky the other would disregard it, but from the present tension in the room he doubted that he had such a reprieve to look forward to. However, he wouldn't be the first to speak on it--and so it was silently that he came to pour the other's tea, and then his own. Mussed strands had already been combed through neatly with his own fingers, and he looked as if he had never fainted at all--though was notably paler than usual, which was an accomplishment in itself.
Leon: He -was- slightly calmer now that the animals were no longer attacking him. A faint grunt was the response when he took up his tea - taking a sip before setting it down again. He didn't want to beat around the bush, but... He sighed, tilting his head back. "Well?" He kept his eyes open though; staring up at the ceiling. He doubted that the Count would have really put sedatives in his tea - especially since they were drinking from the same pot.
Count D: "Well what, Officer?" Of course, now that he was no longer plagued with such a curse as he had been at the point of their last conversation, things were bound to be more difficult--the same vague answers Leon had earned in the past really all that he would have to look forward to now, so far as D was concerned.
The Count lowered himself to sit with his tea, one hand steadying the cup as he guided it upward with the other, sipping delicately.
Leon: His head snapped back downward so he could glare at D as coldly as he could muster. "Well what the fuck happened earlier?" He paused, taking a breath. "You pass out without warning, nothing will wake you up, and when you DO wake up, you act like nothing happened, and that I shouldn't have been..." He trailed off before muttering it. "Y'know, concerned."
Count D: D's gaze hardened just faintly, though it was not a lasting expression. Brows arched somewhat as he continued to sip calmly at his tea. He was used to Leon's outbursts, and this one was really no different--a bit more personal than some, but then again he was used to that too.
"I was overtired, Officer. You know how I can be."
Leon: "Look. You've gotten weak before, I'll admit - like on Christmas Eve..." A pause. "But you've never, never passed out since I've known you, D. Not that I can remember, and even after losing a lot of blood. I don't know why you're so fucking surprised or disturbed or what the fuck ever that I'd be worried about you if you randomly fucking keeled over."
Count D: D was silent for a few moments, seemingly quite intent over the teacup in his grasp. When he finally lowered it, however, a lingering smirk was present upon his features. "I'd never known that you were so sentimental, Detective Orcot--but I assure you that I am fine. Now if you would only be so kind as to tame your language within the walls of my shop--" a pause. "This is not your apartment."
Leon: He actually had to grit his teeth for a moment - he'd been about to yell; about to make a scathing comment about how he hadn't been the one originally to carry a child's drawing with him wherever he went - but he bit it back, taking a slightly shuddering breath before he pressed on. "I. Don't. Care." Another pause; his eyes again narrowing. "It isn't about being sentimental. It's about you being all I have." A bold-faced lie; and he really didn't try THAT hard to mask it.
Count D: "So you still haven't decided?" His tone softer then, and it could almost have seemed menacing in a sense--but it was short-lived. "I am still growing accustomed to the functionality of this place ... I suppose that it was only a matter of time until it began to take its toll." D could lie just as well, though his own were not so glaringly evident--thankfully.
Leon: "Hnn." He for the most part knew better than to keep pressing - so many arguments with D in the past had taught him well enough that there was a point that he would get no more information. "Just... Don't fucking do that anymore, all right? It pisses me off to not know what to do." There was a thoughtful pause - his next words were genuinely curious. "How long HAVE you been here?"
Count D: "Had I chosen to collapse of my own free will I could assure you that I would not, Detective." A pause then, while D considered it. "Since late January, I believe... Qchan was a bit later to arrive, and the animals have been appearing at random since."
Leon: "Well, I mean... Did you feel woozy beforehand? Obviously you're smart enough to know warning signs, so...ah...I don't know. Nevermind." It had begun to sound even more sentimental than the Count had implied - so he simply shut up about it. He nodded however; shooting a half-glare at Qchan when said creature was mentioned. "So not that long... I was gonna be really, really pissed if I'd been looking for you all over the place, only to find out you'd been here for ages."
Count D: "Oh, no. I spent time in Japan before coming here," almost cheerfully. Of course, it hadn't really occurred to D that he would have been pursued--if it had, well.. perhaps he wouldn't have found himself quite so far.
Leon: "I went to Japan! I...in...Februrary...Damnit." He was scowling again; though he took up the tea again and took a slow sip of the cooling liquid. "Of course, of course." The irony was astounding. ...Sort of.
Count D: "It is said that time passes more slowly in this place," came the idle response, though D had made no attempt to verify it. Truth be told, he had been content in the City's confines thus far, and wasn't too intent on contacting the outside world anytime soon. Away from his father, and so many humans ...
He caught himself gazing to nothing and quickly drained the rest of his cup.
Leon: "That's interesting... Do they have any idea how much more slowly?" It -was- interesting - slightly disturbing, but interesting nonetheless. Leon wasn't particularly concerned about the outside world - other than Chris, of course. Now that the initial shock was wearing off, it was simply the unfamiliar that was still bothering him. He set the cup down once more, gnawing on a thumbnail thoughtfully.
Count D: "Or perhaps it's more quickly..." D trailed off with another faint smirk then, though his gaze hardened when he noticed just what Leon was occupying himself with, and he grimaced. "Don't do that. Have you any idea how unhealthy it is?" Of course, his own nails were immaculate as always--plainly visible against the china as he reached to set the cup back to the table.
Leon: "Make up your damn confusing mind." He sighed - though he grinned around said thumb when D spoke again. "S'not like I'm shoving them near your mouth." He did drop his hand however; fidgeting a short moment before relaxing again. He rolled his neck in order to crack it - wincing when it did so more loudly (and painfully) than intended. "No, I don't. How unhealthy?"
Count D: The Count winced as well, and then offered Leon a decidedly sour look. "And then you go and do that ..." a soft sigh. "And you would be sorry were your fingers to come anywhere near my mouth, Detective." The small scowl, reminiscent of a pout, still evident.
Leon: "Do what?" He was grinning as he picked up the cup to take another sip - but he misjudged the distance because he wasn't paying attention and merely knocked it to the floor instead. "Damnit!" He dropped down to pick up the pieces - there thankfully hadn't been much tea left - and was almost done when he inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Shit... D, you got a napkin that you don't mind getting stained?" He glanced up - the shards were in a neat pile; though now his finger was bleeding from a rather too-sharp point on a piece.
Count D: D could only cringe at the sound of the china as it hit the floor and shattered. While it was not as if he hadn't more than enough cups from the same set, it was still disappointing to see one broken. He loosed a faint sigh, but nodded, rising from his own seat and moving across the room where he retrieved an older napkin from one of the many drawers, not second guessing once in concern to the location of the thing he was searching for. A moment would see his return, and it was only then that he took note of the fact that Leon was, in fact, bleeding--he formerly assuming that he'd only inquired as to a napkin in regard to the spilled tea. "Oh," but the quiet exclamation had left him without thought, brow knitting faintly.
Leon: He glanced up yet again as he grabbed the napkin with his other hand - muttering a soft "Thanks," under his breath. However, when the Count's expression registered, he arched both eyebrows slightly as he wrapped the fabric around the bleeding digit. "You all right, Count?" ...Not that he was worried, by any means.
Count D: It took a moment, and then the Count blinked, though at the familiarity of the other's urging he regained himself. A subtle nod was offered in reply, he coming to kneel carefully before the spot where Leon was seated. "Here, let me take care of it," as he so tended to fuss, the other was sure to be used to it.
Leon: He couldn't help but stare at the Count during this time - it was... slightly disturbing. He shook his head though, tilting his head when D knelt by im. "It's fine, honestly." He sighed though - holding out the injured hand for the other to look at. "I mean, you know I've had much worse than this. I'm sure I'll survive a teacup wound."
Count D: "Knowing you it likely needs stitches, yet you would barrel right on without that knowledge and end up with gangrene or some other such unfortunate ill," he carefully drew back the cloth, frowning somewhat at the sight of the blood, which hadn't quite stemmed as of yet. That meant that it was deep enough, though it didn't seem too horrible from his present angle. Leaning closer, the Count took the heel of Leon's palm carefully within his own hands and tilted it back, examining the wound.
Leon: "...I would not. I'd at least wrap it, or something." An astute nod before he stilled - watching the Count almost curiously. There was that overwhelming need to begin to fidget again but he quelled it; instead simply heaving a sigh before offering a slightly crooked smile. "Am I going to live, doctor?" Nevermind that he, under normal circumstances, would likely not want D to be his doctor.
Count D: The hold on Leon's hand tightened at the momentary nickname, and again his eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that." Another hearkening to his father, though unintentional, that he did not want to hear.
The Count released Leon's hands with one of his own, the other still supporting it as he traced a fingertip delicately over the surface of the cut. The blood collected there, contrasting plainly against the pale skin, and he drew the finger away--little attention paid to it for the moment as he went about assuring that the cut was no matter in requirement of true medical attention.
Leon: "Fair enough." He fell silent after that - again watching him intently. It was fascinating, really; for whatever reason. "But really though; it's not that bad right? It doesn't hurt too bad, so..." He was half-talking to himself at this point - if only to break the silence that so often made him a bit unnerved.
Count D: This time Leon wouldn't receive an immediate response. Again the Count seemed caught up in the situation, and it was another moment of idle staring before he lifted his own hand to his lips, tongue darting outward to claim the blood he had collected only seconds prior. Soon enough the digit was taken past his lips, he unblinking as it was licked clean.
Leon: ...Unnerved indeed. "...D?" His eyes had widened at the sight and it took him a moment to realize he'd been holding his breath - so he let it out slowly. It had happened once before, yes - but in an entirely different situation and at the time he'd deemed it simply another means of trying to intimidate him. Now, however...? He had no idea. "What are you doing?" It would seem the shock had even taken from him the ability to swear.
Count D: "When did you start referring to me so informally, Detective?" He had done so a few times now, and the Count had taken notice--though now it wasn't really a matter of concern, as was evident in the way the inquiry was spoken. Though he did manage to sound faintly amused, it was obvious that any true interest in the matter was pushed aside for his present focus--and that was the small amount of red which still seeped from Leon's cut.
He didn't look up--in fact, he didn't bother providing even the slightest explanation before his hand slid again to reclaim Leon's wrist, urging the appendage closer to his own mouth so that his lips could seal over the spot.
Leon: "'Bout the same time you started doin' things like that." Not really, but it was the wittiest thing he could think of at the moment. He did however, continue to stare in unabashed... well, it wasn't horror - it was simply shock; D was proving to be even more full of surprises than he had before. At the same time though, he didn't try to pull away - simply continued. To. Stare. His eyes had widened even further - any thought of finishing the clean up was gone now in favor of simply watching.
Count D: The few moments of silence that followed would likely seem an eternity, though D was fixed on nothing but the metallic tinge of blood upon his tongue. His eyes had fluttered to a close, head tilted forward in such a way that one was wholly obscured from view. Hands still cool to the touch soon loosed Leon's, however--and at the same moment he parted from him wordlessly, rising again to stand.
Leon: Though it took a moment for him to regain his senses; it was Leon's hand now that grabbed to D's wrist - though it wasn't all that tightly and he stood slowly, simply staring across at him. Suffice to say he was a bit weirded out, yes - though it was simply another sort of weird from everything else, and nothing more so or less so. "I know you realize by now that there's some questions I'm not going to let you get away with not answering."
Count D: "Where have I to get away to, Detective?" he asked, tone little more than a murmur as the other came to grip his wrist. However, the smirk was back in place--the Count ever-casual, as he seemed always.
Leon: "Not physically." He did let go however; shifting to sit on the sofa - teacup all but forgotten. "For someone who seemed utterly repulsed by my fingers a few minutes ago, you were certainly interested in that one." His eyes were - thankfully - to their normal shape, now.
Count D: "Of course. You were bleeding. You'll notice that you aren't, now--" As much was true. The wound, formerly deep enough to worry the Count to the point of considering stitches, seemed little more than a scratch now--one that was improving even then, though the area around it was still pink with irritation.
Leon: He did look to the wound with interest - making a faint noise in the back of his throat before returning his gaze to the other. Both eyebrows had risen so far by now as to disappear into his hair. "I see. And that's the only reason?"
Count D: "Is it not enough that I work to assure that you will not again be faced with my unconsciousness, Detective Orcot?" The words drawled slow and deliberately, he hoping that the implication would be obvious enough--it was a need, not a desire, and it was embarrassing enough that he had faltered from it once already, let alone taken advantage of someone like Leon for the sake of amending it.
Leon: Silence as this sunk in - and he then simply nodded. "Fair enough, Count." He did remember the teacup, though - dropping down again to clean up the mess. Though, he had enough foresight to use the napkin to pick up the pieces, lest he slice himself open again. Once they were gathered neatly in the fabric he set the smallish pile on the table; dropping back to the sofa with an audible sigh. "Fair enough."
Count D: In truth, he was rather surprised that Leon did not press the matter--but grateful. There was a long moment in which D stood in silence, merely watching as the other went about tidying the mess--something that never would have been done on his own terms, sure enough. "Detective?"
Leon: "Mm?" He glanced over, then - straightening a bit where he sat and actually taking a moment to push his hair back from his eyes so he didn't look like something that should be herding sheep. "What is it?"
Count D: "Thank you." Unmoving still, but now with a rather more sincere smile.
Leon: He blinked in surprise for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about it." He tried to sound uncaring - but there was a smile there, faintly.
Count D: "I think that I would be wise to rest, Detective," the Count stated plainly, turning without waiting for further response. "If you wish it you are free to stay again, but please refrain from smoking--you smell enough of nicotine as it stands."
Leon: He nodded, even though the Count wasn't facing him. "All right." For once, not putting up protest - perhaps he was still just a bit tired himself - or simply thinking too much. The 'goodnight' was all but mumbled and his shoes were again kicked off as he settled down to ready for sleep. He'd have to bitch about only getting a couch to sleep on - but that could wait for another day. After all, it wasn't his apartment.
Rating; L for Leon [Language, bit of blood].
Characters; Leon Orcot (
detectiveorcot), Count D (despairingdream)Summary; After Count D wakes Leon receives a bit more than he'd bargained for in requesting an explanation.
Log;
Leon: He'd... Well, he wasn't -embarrassed- exactly, more like slightly put out; though he was doing his best to ignore the previous circumstances like D apparently was - except he was sulking; curled up slightly on the sofa. He hadn't even bothered running his fingers through his hair - it was a mess. So he was left watching the Count through the strands falling in front of his face, eyes slightly narrowed.
Count D: D himself had taken to acting--quite naturally--as if nothing at all had happened. Such hadn't before, at least in front of the Detective--of course, he had faltered in the past, Leon had seen weakness in him, but not to such a degree. If he was lucky the other would disregard it, but from the present tension in the room he doubted that he had such a reprieve to look forward to. However, he wouldn't be the first to speak on it--and so it was silently that he came to pour the other's tea, and then his own. Mussed strands had already been combed through neatly with his own fingers, and he looked as if he had never fainted at all--though was notably paler than usual, which was an accomplishment in itself.
Leon: He -was- slightly calmer now that the animals were no longer attacking him. A faint grunt was the response when he took up his tea - taking a sip before setting it down again. He didn't want to beat around the bush, but... He sighed, tilting his head back. "Well?" He kept his eyes open though; staring up at the ceiling. He doubted that the Count would have really put sedatives in his tea - especially since they were drinking from the same pot.
Count D: "Well what, Officer?" Of course, now that he was no longer plagued with such a curse as he had been at the point of their last conversation, things were bound to be more difficult--the same vague answers Leon had earned in the past really all that he would have to look forward to now, so far as D was concerned.
The Count lowered himself to sit with his tea, one hand steadying the cup as he guided it upward with the other, sipping delicately.
Leon: His head snapped back downward so he could glare at D as coldly as he could muster. "Well what the fuck happened earlier?" He paused, taking a breath. "You pass out without warning, nothing will wake you up, and when you DO wake up, you act like nothing happened, and that I shouldn't have been..." He trailed off before muttering it. "Y'know, concerned."
Count D: D's gaze hardened just faintly, though it was not a lasting expression. Brows arched somewhat as he continued to sip calmly at his tea. He was used to Leon's outbursts, and this one was really no different--a bit more personal than some, but then again he was used to that too.
"I was overtired, Officer. You know how I can be."
Leon: "Look. You've gotten weak before, I'll admit - like on Christmas Eve..." A pause. "But you've never, never passed out since I've known you, D. Not that I can remember, and even after losing a lot of blood. I don't know why you're so fucking surprised or disturbed or what the fuck ever that I'd be worried about you if you randomly fucking keeled over."
Count D: D was silent for a few moments, seemingly quite intent over the teacup in his grasp. When he finally lowered it, however, a lingering smirk was present upon his features. "I'd never known that you were so sentimental, Detective Orcot--but I assure you that I am fine. Now if you would only be so kind as to tame your language within the walls of my shop--" a pause. "This is not your apartment."
Leon: He actually had to grit his teeth for a moment - he'd been about to yell; about to make a scathing comment about how he hadn't been the one originally to carry a child's drawing with him wherever he went - but he bit it back, taking a slightly shuddering breath before he pressed on. "I. Don't. Care." Another pause; his eyes again narrowing. "It isn't about being sentimental. It's about you being all I have." A bold-faced lie; and he really didn't try THAT hard to mask it.
Count D: "So you still haven't decided?" His tone softer then, and it could almost have seemed menacing in a sense--but it was short-lived. "I am still growing accustomed to the functionality of this place ... I suppose that it was only a matter of time until it began to take its toll." D could lie just as well, though his own were not so glaringly evident--thankfully.
Leon: "Hnn." He for the most part knew better than to keep pressing - so many arguments with D in the past had taught him well enough that there was a point that he would get no more information. "Just... Don't fucking do that anymore, all right? It pisses me off to not know what to do." There was a thoughtful pause - his next words were genuinely curious. "How long HAVE you been here?"
Count D: "Had I chosen to collapse of my own free will I could assure you that I would not, Detective." A pause then, while D considered it. "Since late January, I believe... Qchan was a bit later to arrive, and the animals have been appearing at random since."
Leon: "Well, I mean... Did you feel woozy beforehand? Obviously you're smart enough to know warning signs, so...ah...I don't know. Nevermind." It had begun to sound even more sentimental than the Count had implied - so he simply shut up about it. He nodded however; shooting a half-glare at Qchan when said creature was mentioned. "So not that long... I was gonna be really, really pissed if I'd been looking for you all over the place, only to find out you'd been here for ages."
Count D: "Oh, no. I spent time in Japan before coming here," almost cheerfully. Of course, it hadn't really occurred to D that he would have been pursued--if it had, well.. perhaps he wouldn't have found himself quite so far.
Leon: "I went to Japan! I...in...Februrary...Damnit." He was scowling again; though he took up the tea again and took a slow sip of the cooling liquid. "Of course, of course." The irony was astounding. ...Sort of.
Count D: "It is said that time passes more slowly in this place," came the idle response, though D had made no attempt to verify it. Truth be told, he had been content in the City's confines thus far, and wasn't too intent on contacting the outside world anytime soon. Away from his father, and so many humans ...
He caught himself gazing to nothing and quickly drained the rest of his cup.
Leon: "That's interesting... Do they have any idea how much more slowly?" It -was- interesting - slightly disturbing, but interesting nonetheless. Leon wasn't particularly concerned about the outside world - other than Chris, of course. Now that the initial shock was wearing off, it was simply the unfamiliar that was still bothering him. He set the cup down once more, gnawing on a thumbnail thoughtfully.
Count D: "Or perhaps it's more quickly..." D trailed off with another faint smirk then, though his gaze hardened when he noticed just what Leon was occupying himself with, and he grimaced. "Don't do that. Have you any idea how unhealthy it is?" Of course, his own nails were immaculate as always--plainly visible against the china as he reached to set the cup back to the table.
Leon: "Make up your damn confusing mind." He sighed - though he grinned around said thumb when D spoke again. "S'not like I'm shoving them near your mouth." He did drop his hand however; fidgeting a short moment before relaxing again. He rolled his neck in order to crack it - wincing when it did so more loudly (and painfully) than intended. "No, I don't. How unhealthy?"
Count D: The Count winced as well, and then offered Leon a decidedly sour look. "And then you go and do that ..." a soft sigh. "And you would be sorry were your fingers to come anywhere near my mouth, Detective." The small scowl, reminiscent of a pout, still evident.
Leon: "Do what?" He was grinning as he picked up the cup to take another sip - but he misjudged the distance because he wasn't paying attention and merely knocked it to the floor instead. "Damnit!" He dropped down to pick up the pieces - there thankfully hadn't been much tea left - and was almost done when he inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Shit... D, you got a napkin that you don't mind getting stained?" He glanced up - the shards were in a neat pile; though now his finger was bleeding from a rather too-sharp point on a piece.
Count D: D could only cringe at the sound of the china as it hit the floor and shattered. While it was not as if he hadn't more than enough cups from the same set, it was still disappointing to see one broken. He loosed a faint sigh, but nodded, rising from his own seat and moving across the room where he retrieved an older napkin from one of the many drawers, not second guessing once in concern to the location of the thing he was searching for. A moment would see his return, and it was only then that he took note of the fact that Leon was, in fact, bleeding--he formerly assuming that he'd only inquired as to a napkin in regard to the spilled tea. "Oh," but the quiet exclamation had left him without thought, brow knitting faintly.
Leon: He glanced up yet again as he grabbed the napkin with his other hand - muttering a soft "Thanks," under his breath. However, when the Count's expression registered, he arched both eyebrows slightly as he wrapped the fabric around the bleeding digit. "You all right, Count?" ...Not that he was worried, by any means.
Count D: It took a moment, and then the Count blinked, though at the familiarity of the other's urging he regained himself. A subtle nod was offered in reply, he coming to kneel carefully before the spot where Leon was seated. "Here, let me take care of it," as he so tended to fuss, the other was sure to be used to it.
Leon: He couldn't help but stare at the Count during this time - it was... slightly disturbing. He shook his head though, tilting his head when D knelt by im. "It's fine, honestly." He sighed though - holding out the injured hand for the other to look at. "I mean, you know I've had much worse than this. I'm sure I'll survive a teacup wound."
Count D: "Knowing you it likely needs stitches, yet you would barrel right on without that knowledge and end up with gangrene or some other such unfortunate ill," he carefully drew back the cloth, frowning somewhat at the sight of the blood, which hadn't quite stemmed as of yet. That meant that it was deep enough, though it didn't seem too horrible from his present angle. Leaning closer, the Count took the heel of Leon's palm carefully within his own hands and tilted it back, examining the wound.
Leon: "...I would not. I'd at least wrap it, or something." An astute nod before he stilled - watching the Count almost curiously. There was that overwhelming need to begin to fidget again but he quelled it; instead simply heaving a sigh before offering a slightly crooked smile. "Am I going to live, doctor?" Nevermind that he, under normal circumstances, would likely not want D to be his doctor.
Count D: The hold on Leon's hand tightened at the momentary nickname, and again his eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that." Another hearkening to his father, though unintentional, that he did not want to hear.
The Count released Leon's hands with one of his own, the other still supporting it as he traced a fingertip delicately over the surface of the cut. The blood collected there, contrasting plainly against the pale skin, and he drew the finger away--little attention paid to it for the moment as he went about assuring that the cut was no matter in requirement of true medical attention.
Leon: "Fair enough." He fell silent after that - again watching him intently. It was fascinating, really; for whatever reason. "But really though; it's not that bad right? It doesn't hurt too bad, so..." He was half-talking to himself at this point - if only to break the silence that so often made him a bit unnerved.
Count D: This time Leon wouldn't receive an immediate response. Again the Count seemed caught up in the situation, and it was another moment of idle staring before he lifted his own hand to his lips, tongue darting outward to claim the blood he had collected only seconds prior. Soon enough the digit was taken past his lips, he unblinking as it was licked clean.
Leon: ...Unnerved indeed. "...D?" His eyes had widened at the sight and it took him a moment to realize he'd been holding his breath - so he let it out slowly. It had happened once before, yes - but in an entirely different situation and at the time he'd deemed it simply another means of trying to intimidate him. Now, however...? He had no idea. "What are you doing?" It would seem the shock had even taken from him the ability to swear.
Count D: "When did you start referring to me so informally, Detective?" He had done so a few times now, and the Count had taken notice--though now it wasn't really a matter of concern, as was evident in the way the inquiry was spoken. Though he did manage to sound faintly amused, it was obvious that any true interest in the matter was pushed aside for his present focus--and that was the small amount of red which still seeped from Leon's cut.
He didn't look up--in fact, he didn't bother providing even the slightest explanation before his hand slid again to reclaim Leon's wrist, urging the appendage closer to his own mouth so that his lips could seal over the spot.
Leon: "'Bout the same time you started doin' things like that." Not really, but it was the wittiest thing he could think of at the moment. He did however, continue to stare in unabashed... well, it wasn't horror - it was simply shock; D was proving to be even more full of surprises than he had before. At the same time though, he didn't try to pull away - simply continued. To. Stare. His eyes had widened even further - any thought of finishing the clean up was gone now in favor of simply watching.
Count D: The few moments of silence that followed would likely seem an eternity, though D was fixed on nothing but the metallic tinge of blood upon his tongue. His eyes had fluttered to a close, head tilted forward in such a way that one was wholly obscured from view. Hands still cool to the touch soon loosed Leon's, however--and at the same moment he parted from him wordlessly, rising again to stand.
Leon: Though it took a moment for him to regain his senses; it was Leon's hand now that grabbed to D's wrist - though it wasn't all that tightly and he stood slowly, simply staring across at him. Suffice to say he was a bit weirded out, yes - though it was simply another sort of weird from everything else, and nothing more so or less so. "I know you realize by now that there's some questions I'm not going to let you get away with not answering."
Count D: "Where have I to get away to, Detective?" he asked, tone little more than a murmur as the other came to grip his wrist. However, the smirk was back in place--the Count ever-casual, as he seemed always.
Leon: "Not physically." He did let go however; shifting to sit on the sofa - teacup all but forgotten. "For someone who seemed utterly repulsed by my fingers a few minutes ago, you were certainly interested in that one." His eyes were - thankfully - to their normal shape, now.
Count D: "Of course. You were bleeding. You'll notice that you aren't, now--" As much was true. The wound, formerly deep enough to worry the Count to the point of considering stitches, seemed little more than a scratch now--one that was improving even then, though the area around it was still pink with irritation.
Leon: He did look to the wound with interest - making a faint noise in the back of his throat before returning his gaze to the other. Both eyebrows had risen so far by now as to disappear into his hair. "I see. And that's the only reason?"
Count D: "Is it not enough that I work to assure that you will not again be faced with my unconsciousness, Detective Orcot?" The words drawled slow and deliberately, he hoping that the implication would be obvious enough--it was a need, not a desire, and it was embarrassing enough that he had faltered from it once already, let alone taken advantage of someone like Leon for the sake of amending it.
Leon: Silence as this sunk in - and he then simply nodded. "Fair enough, Count." He did remember the teacup, though - dropping down again to clean up the mess. Though, he had enough foresight to use the napkin to pick up the pieces, lest he slice himself open again. Once they were gathered neatly in the fabric he set the smallish pile on the table; dropping back to the sofa with an audible sigh. "Fair enough."
Count D: In truth, he was rather surprised that Leon did not press the matter--but grateful. There was a long moment in which D stood in silence, merely watching as the other went about tidying the mess--something that never would have been done on his own terms, sure enough. "Detective?"
Leon: "Mm?" He glanced over, then - straightening a bit where he sat and actually taking a moment to push his hair back from his eyes so he didn't look like something that should be herding sheep. "What is it?"
Count D: "Thank you." Unmoving still, but now with a rather more sincere smile.
Leon: He blinked in surprise for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about it." He tried to sound uncaring - but there was a smile there, faintly.
Count D: "I think that I would be wise to rest, Detective," the Count stated plainly, turning without waiting for further response. "If you wish it you are free to stay again, but please refrain from smoking--you smell enough of nicotine as it stands."
Leon: He nodded, even though the Count wasn't facing him. "All right." For once, not putting up protest - perhaps he was still just a bit tired himself - or simply thinking too much. The 'goodnight' was all but mumbled and his shoes were again kicked off as he settled down to ready for sleep. He'd have to bitch about only getting a couch to sleep on - but that could wait for another day. After all, it wasn't his apartment.
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