tampered | Log; Complete

Log; Complete

When; Dec. 18 (morning)
Rating; PG-13 (language)
Characters; Boy Blue

playstheblues, the Corinthian

bitingnightmare
Summary; The morning after another night in which our two players acquaint themselves with each other in secrecy.
Log;

Cold again. Winter had returned in full force after the previous day's curse. The Corinthian stirred from a dreamless sleep, from the quiet abyss of his work where he could feel the oily black of the rapist's return to the city. It was no threat to Blue or himself, and even if it were, the nightmare would be the first in line to deny it entry into his space, his place. He'd fought it once before, he could do it again and more viciously so now that he had something to protect. Was the blonde still there?

Cori narrowed his eyeteeth in awakening, remembering where it was he'd fallen asleep. His cheek rested upon a thin futon in an old room filled with untouched weaponry. He hadn't been here in some time, not since she'd been taken by the mark. Her swords were immaculate as ever, sharper than any ivory, and for a brief moment he thought he saw metal move, catching the pale light that filtered through the small window.

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"That's why we bicker all the time," Blue said with a small laugh that was more bitter than genuine. "It's a farce. I was a fool, but it's okay, he's wound up tighter than a clock now."

At the laugh and the tease, Blue pounced the Corinthian to the ground, his hands on the nightmare's shoulders. He wasn't really upset or hurt - he recognized good-natured teasing when he heard it - and he snorted, "Shorter but not any weaker. Lighter but lither."

He'd yet to meet the illustrious Prince Charming, unless touching the hands of his room mates who had trashed the man counted. Good show overall, even if Cori had only heard about it and not participated.

"Hey--" The Corinthian should have come to expect this of Blue, especially after last night's pull into the water. He rolled onto the ground, neither hurt nor upset (he was supposed to be the invincible one). Cori raised his chin in defiance, feeling Blue's lighter weight on top of himself, and the black fabric of his robe.

"Means shit to me," he replied before quickly kicking out to wrap his legs around Blue's waist in an attempt to reverse their positions.

Blue laughed, and when the Corinthian tried to reverse their positions he writhed a little, using the flexibility he had to turn his body without losing a grip on the nightmare, tumbling them both around.

He hadn't learned to wrestle from the Greeks, but he had taken lessons from Weyland Smith (he always lost) so he had some clue of what he was doing. He landed back upright on the nightmare, using more muscle to keep the other man down.

Damn the flexible and limber. He felt them both roll twice so that Blue was on top of him again, this time straddling higher on Cori's waist. His longer legs had no way of wrapping around Blue now and neither did he want to hook his heels over the blonde's throat. This wasn't a serious grapple, but Cori should have taken care to remember that look in the golden boy's eye, when he had finished his dance. Blue could be equally mercurial.

Cori grunted, back stiff along the cold floor. "Nff. Okay, you proved your point."

Blue grinned and backed up off the nightmare, grabbing his box of Mild Seven's and tossing it over. "Not my fault you're an old man," Blue laughed again, closing the robe he had found, sitting back on one of the crates.

He crossed one leg over the other and grabbed a bit of taffy. "Breakfast of champions," he said with a smirk. "There's a new pair of jeans for you on the box over there, by the way."

He caught the carton with one hand, reflexes still sharp for an old man of twenty-five... hundred years. He even gestured with the pack as he sat up, a motion of 'Reflexes like a god damned cat, okay?' before lighting another cigarette. Cori noted that taffy consumption again, wondering how Blue avoided cavities. Then again it had to be the same way Cori avoided lung cancer.

"Those'll kill you some day," he quipped over the sugar before blowing smoke rings from his lips.

New jeans? The nightmare glanced aside then went over to the fresh pair of denim. Size 32 and slim fitting, just the way he liked them. "Thanks, I owe you one," said the Corinthian, knowing owing him was a moot point. He pulled his briefs on then the new jeans over them. "Rose'll wonder where you've been going lately."

Cavities weren't a problem. He brushed and flossed twice daily, and used mouthwash, too.

That, and he kind of suspected that Fables didn't get cavities, really. At the comment he just looked at Cori with a sort of disbelief in his eyes. "I'll stop when I get diabetes if you stop when you get lung cancer." Both were equally unlikely, and Blue knew it.

"Rose already has. I tell her I get lost, which is partly true. I don't really like to tell lies."

"Deal," he answered around a cigarette with a smirk and puff of carcinogens. No, neither scenario was likely, but the Corinthian was bound to run into more trouble as anti-smoking laws increased. Damn the luck. He wasn't fortune's favorite son at all. He tapped out the ash against the edge of a crate.

"Tell her you've been practicing your technique," the nightmare grinned, leaning closer to the blonde's face.

In an odd way, Blue liked the Corinthian's eyes. It wasn't about them being inhuman, or hard to read, because Blue could pick up a lot from them - it was something about their shape, about the teeth, about the fact that it was a nightmare that didn't frighten him because it was a nightmare that he would never have that made him so intrigued.

At the comment, Blue turned red, predictably enough. He didn't open his mouth to reply right away, knowing the only thing that would come out would be a stammer, but licked his lips. Finally he managed, "I don't have my horn with me," he pointed out. "At least if I get lost, she can't see through that."

His eyeteeth were unique only to him... and his predecessor, but sometimes they were one in the same. They could emote too, it was just a matter of taking the time to learn the subtle differences. On the other hand, the Corinthian was ageless and an often ephemeral presence in the lives of others. Few had the time to learn how to read him.

Ah just what he was looking for, that flush of color to Blue's handsome cheeks. Cori loved it. He stood up again, tucking the cigarette between his lips before putting his boots on.

"Keep dancing circles around the truth with her. We don't have the best of histories between us," the nightmare admitted. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it over his shoulders, foregoing a t-shirt. The salt had rendered it unsalvagable, not that the white horror minded.

Blue moved back and changed into his board shorts and his shirt, sorry for the lack of heater during his run home, and hoping that he could climb back into his window without waking Rose (or Fly). "Rose is the least of my worries right now," he said, thinking of Prince Charming and Fly's reaction - more the you're dating a man than you're dating a nightmare?

At least his clothes were dry now. "I'll meet you soon?" he asked, almost a statement but not quite.

"A pregnant woman? The least of your worries?"

Cori pinched his glasses and grinned three ways. He wasn't aware of the possible repercussions concerning those other two from his homeworld, much less the man-on-man aspect of it, or the 2500/30-on-1200/16 side to it. Mortals wouldn't understand in his opinion and were best left out of the equation (no, he was afraid that someone from his world would tell Blue the truth).

He took another step closer to Blue and pressed their lips together, tobacco on his tongue fresh as the taffy. "I said I'd spar with you."

"Really." Blue said.

He imagined it wouldn't go over well. Fly might be okay with it, if he explained it, and then probably harass Cori about it...but Prince Charming would laugh and feel vindicated. Or mock ceaselessly. And then he would talk to Cori. It was worse than having parents.

Blue enjoyed the kiss, smiling into it, and when they broke apart he nodded. "Alright, but I told Tony that I would take him and his boyfriend to a jazz club. He didn't know who Duke Ellington was." Blue scratched at his head. "How about tomorrow night?"

"The poor deprived souls. I knew Canada was worthless," the nightmare feigned a sigh as he streamed cigarette smoke from his nose.

"Tomorrow night, eight o'clock," Cori suggested then glance around the room, "outside the back of this building." Easy and secretive enough. He puffed on the cancer stick, watching Blue. Already he could tell that the blonde didn't want this sort of arrangement to be common, but the Corinthian needed it to be. Or so he told himself.

"I bet they don't know who Satchmo is, either."

Blue recognized the need, but he didn't like it. He wanted something a little more normal, but until he was willing to choke it up and tell Prince Charming (or at least Fly) then secret would have to be a secret instead of merely discreet. It wasn't like Blue would have been making out in public in either scenario.

Besides, they had agreed, and Blue didn't go back on his agreements.

"Deal," he said, giving the Corinthian a quick goodbye kiss.

"Something out of a bad cryptozoology reel from the Yukon," he remarked, shamelessly mocking the snowy country.

The Corinthian would have liked nothing more than to kiss him in public, to let the rest of those sons of bitches know he still had it in him, but those intentions were far from what Blue had in mind. They were unfair claims, Cori liked the retired hero's company too much to be completely unfair. He pursed his lips when they kissed again.

"Great," then he stuck the cigarette back into his mouth. "I don't take inventory, Almond Joy," reminded the nightmare as he turned to exit through the door.

Blue watched the nightmare leave before he gathered all his things. He didn't know what he was doing, really - he knew exactly why he liked Cori, of course - but aspects were still a bit confusing, even though he knew exactly what was going on.

He would never tell the Corinthian that he knew about John (the Network's public status made those kinds of things easy) or that John wouldn't change anything.

He looked around and thought of the Corinthian's words, then took a sword with him. The Vorpal Blade would be cheating.

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