|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Mar 8, 2014 8:01:04 GMT
"False alarm." He mumbled, to nobody in particular. A hand pressed against the wall, he could feel the throb of the bass better than he could feel his own fingertips. Numb and stumbling, he shoved open the bathroom door and staggered out into the club, along the wall for balance.
Note to self, codeine and alcohol don't mix - he should write that down, he'd forget in the morning. He'd already forgotten it by the time he got to the bar. He braced an elbow on the bar, he almost missed the first time and ended tits up on the ground. Luck decided that he had done that enough tonight. Iggie offered a drowsy grin to the bartender along with his order.
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Mar 9, 2014 1:46:37 GMT
What could be heard of Dmitri was a thunderous laugh, one that sounded as if a holy decree; it was hard to ignore, and smiled while he slammed down another drink. Dmitri was always the center of a party, of a good time, it betrayed his usual demeanor but he'd always been so. A people person, even if his job took a bit away from that notion.
He was talking to a small group beside him at the bar. Just a few of his friends, they all laughed and smiled before they broke off to wander about the club by themselves. With a smile he took another drink before noticing the white haired man stumbling to the bar besides him. His eyes narrowed as he sighed. Iggie could barely stand, but the drowsy grin he gave the bartender made him smile before he caught himself.
"You don't need anything else to drink, Iggie. Are you fucking stupid?" he said while giving the bartender a harsh look; he seemed to cower a bit before putting the glass back. "How much have you had already? Jesus Christ." he said, then chastising himself after. He made the sign of the cross over his chest quickly.
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Mar 9, 2014 7:10:26 GMT
His head rested heavily, cupped in his palm, and he turned slowly. He recognized the voice about as the same time as he did the face, and his smile dropped in the next second as he connected the rest of the dots in crooked, wavering lines.
His brow furrowed, as if it was hard to believe Dmitri had a life outside beating people up, not letting them into clubs, and otherwise spoiling other people's fun. And by people, Iggie meant himself. The only person that mattered.
"None of your business, dipshit." What was Dmitri going to do? He had no power here to cut him off. Iggie could drink until himself sick if he wanted to, and now, indignantly, he wanted to do just that. Also, his mouth felt stuffed with cotton, dry, as he ran his tongue over his teeth. "Are you my fucking mom?" Rolling his eyes, Iggie looked back to the bartender expectantly.
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Mar 9, 2014 9:18:30 GMT
Dmitri couldn't help but scoff a bit at that, with a look on his face that said, 'really?' "It is so you don't cause trouble like you usually do." he lied, well, he didn't know he was. No no, this was the perfect excuse to pick Iggie up, haul him away; you've had a few drinks, and he won't remember... And luckily you won't either, but you'll know. Oh by god you'll know, you always do.(You're so holy, Dmitri, you're the crucifix on the wall.)
"You can barely walk you fuckwit." he said, the god like presence of his voice taking hold. He threw the bartender another look and this time he walked away from the two of them. Iggie looked as if he was about to fall over... What kind of person would he be to let him be like this? (Oh Dmitri, you're so unholy in your motives, don't you know?) He had to stop himself from running his fingers along the rosary hanging from his neck. (You're holy, divine, amen, amen, amen.)
"You're going home." he said, grabbing Iggie by the arm and attempting to straighten him. In truth he'd probably have to end up carrying to winter crowned man home..
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Mar 9, 2014 22:03:48 GMT
There was nothing that sunk a high quite as fast as Mr. Tall Dark and Loathsome. Iggie scowled, not at all surprised that he was, in fact, just as much of a killjoy off the clock. "Fuck off." He groaned, slumping forward on the bar and flipping him off. He wasn't too drunk for another shot, but he sure as hell was too drunk to deal with Dmitri.
Iggie slid over towards a seat, still leaning on the counter for support. He hadn't even gotten the chance to try hitching himself up into a seat when Dmitri had latched onto his arm and threw off his balance, though at least it was something to keep him upright. He glowered up at him, trying to shake him off clumsily. "No. I'm not." He insisted, grabbing onto the bar.
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Mar 11, 2014 7:23:47 GMT
He wasn't going to put up with this shit. They both knew that Iggie would end up passing out on the floor, or doing something to someone he shouldn't and get his ass thrown right out the door. Where would he be then, huh? So drunk he couldn't walk on the cold ass sidewalk all by himself. God knows nobody cared about him, and Dmitri wouldn't bring himself to admit that, yes, in a stupid way and beyond all reason he did.
He did, and god save his soul and pray to the rosary he would never admit it. Dmitri's grip tightened as Iggie tried to shake him off, though even sober Iggie couldn't do jack shit against him. "Yes, you are." he said with a smile, and that commanding voice; he hadn't even noticed he'd spoken in Russian, though it didn't matter. With both hands he yanked Iggie from the bar, and was holding him as he made for the door; the bartender stared after the two of them, still somewhat shaken.
"You're going to end up dead one day and god forbid it will make my life easier." In ways it would, and in ways it wouldn't. He knows he's wailed on Iggie enough that at this point he won't make a scene, or throw a fit. Well, Dmitri thought, this is Iggie. He might still at least try.
"It's sad that no one gives a shit about you except me right now." he sighed. How sad was that? That he, the man who'd pummeled Iggie over Erik's collecting and his sneaking into clubs, was the one actually taking care of this. Well, he kept telling himself, this is a preventive measure. Nothing more.
Amen.
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Mar 11, 2014 22:34:15 GMT
He didn't speak a word of Russian, but he got the gist of it. Especially when Dmitri pulled him from the bar and towards the door. Iggie felt betrayed, drunken and melodramatically; and he glared at the bartender as he was dragged off - if he remembered this by morning, he was going to fucking kill the guy. If he made it to next morning. He growled, like an animal that didn't like to be handled.
But he was getting used to it, which would have been an uncomfortable and embarrassing fact if he wasn't too trashed to care. But he didn't go without a struggle, without digging in his heels and grabbing for anything he could reach, bar stools and doorways torn from his grip. Even if he knew he wasn't any match. Especially not now. "Am not." He said.
This was weird, but Iggie couldn't articulate why, craning his neck to look up at Dmitri. "It’s sad that you give a shit."
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Mar 14, 2014 23:53:18 GMT
Dmitri narrowed his eyes as Iggie grabbed onto anything he could get to. He kept that smile the whole way out of the entrance, passed the prying eyes and the still shaken bartender. "You are, Iggie. You get yourself in so much fucking trouble." he said, and they both knew it was true. "Trust me, I know." he said shortly after, at this point Iggie was barely walking.
It was sad, wasn't it? That the big bad bouncer had a school boy crush on the city trouble maker. "One day you're going to end up dead in a ditch, Iggie, you know it." He didn't say it in a caring way, either, it was spoken as a harsh truth. With a thought he realized how far away Iggie had lived, and how much closer his apartment was.
Without a word he hauled Iggie up into his arms, somewhat cradling him. He was warm, and caused Dmitri to smile shortly. His grip on Iggie was tight, protective almost. As if Dmitri was one to save anyone, protect anyone, from anything. Iggie was warm, and drunk, and everything he wanted him to be - though he still couldn't bring himself to admit it.
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Mar 16, 2014 4:57:30 GMT
He huffed dejectedly - Dmitri wasn't wrong. Though if you asked Iggie, nothing was his fault, trouble came looking for him. He just wanted to have a good time, and the rest of the world was shitting on his parade. Just like Dmitri, dragging Iggie from the bar and out into the street.
"Is that a threat?" His eyes narrowed, but it came out so slurred that it was a joke. Everything was a goddamn joke, this was some fucking romantic comedy, Dmitri scooped him up.
"Holy fucking - shit, fucking - Christ." He felt his feet leaving the ground, and he and flailed in a general panic before he felt Dmitri's arm's beneath him. Then he twisted and kicked in a confused sort of revulsion. "What are you doing?" This was new; Iggie didn't think he'd ever been straight up carried like this before. Flung around, lifted off the ground by his collar, plenty of that, but this was unfamiliar. Dmitri's smile was unfamiliar too, but he was too drunk to notice.
"Could you," Arching his back, pressing his hands against Dmitri's chest and shoving against him. "Put me the fuck down." It was pointless, but he did it anyways, like he would have preferred the cold hard ground to this. Dmitri wasn't soft and yielding like people usually were.
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Mar 16, 2014 5:34:17 GMT
"Doesn't need to be." he said. He knew Iggie, even like this, was going to fight him a bit. But Iggie wouldn't win, and he banked on it. Like the piece of shit he was, he knew if he wanted to do anything Iggie wouldn't be able to do a god damned thing. That wasn't how he was though, luckily for Iggie; after all, he could be held by someone oh so much worse, right? Right, Dmitri told himself.
"Carrying you because you can't walk, you fucking moron." he said with a sigh. Though he couldn't help but smile again as Iggie arched his back, pushed against his chest; well, he'd be doing that again later, he hoped. His hold on Iggie was still tight, still stupidly protective. As usual, when it comes to right and wrong with Iggie, Dmitri was in the right.
As anyone holy should be, he thought. You're righteous, you're right; this absolves you of all your sins. It does, amen. "Can you not cause trouble for once in your life? No? I thought so." he replied. "Shouldn't you be happy that for once I'm not beating the shit out of you?"
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Mar 16, 2014 5:52:21 GMT
For all his squirming, Dmitri was holding him tight and keeping him close, and Iggie let his head loll back, letting out a frustrated sigh. It wasn't as if he'd ever stood a chance against Dmitri. The guy was fucking huge, and Iggie knew he was strong, but until now he hadn't realized he was pick up and carry a grown man with ease strong.
He wasn't even embarrassed. He was too drunk to care if he was making a scene, he was only frustrated. All he'd wanted was a goddamn drink, because he was fucking thirsty, dizzy, nauseous and the motion wasn't helping anything. Iggie squirmed again, but it was more of a settling into Dmitri's arms before he gave up and shut his eyes and fell into a sullen silence. He couldn't help the scoff that escaped him - he'd be happy if he didn't have anything to do with Dmitri, whenever he would stop riding his ass and leave him be. Obviously that was never going to happen - the guy was clearly going above and beyond in his line of duty, obviously had a deep passion for fucking around with Iggie.
He wasn't sure how far they'd gone, if he'd been in a sullen daze or an alcohol-and-painkiller induced black out for a moment, sounding groggy. "Where are you going?"
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Apr 2, 2014 18:56:20 GMT
Dmitri held him tight as he did with most things; things like faith, and lovers. Or in this case a soon to be, or a prospective case. As always, as it went, he wouldn't admit this to himself. He'd lie to himself, his rosary, again and again. He's just being a good person right now. He's keeping the little hellion from causing issues as he always does, in truth it had seemed to be Iggie's specialty.
Eventually the smaller man had given in as Dmitri had kept a tight hold on him. He couldn't help but smile as he looked down at Iggie, Iggie, whose eyes were closed at the moment. Always acting like Dmitri was ruining his life. Always always always or so it seemed. Maybe one day he'd see that Dmitri had been keeping him from doing things that would end up with his white hair spread against red concrete. Oh, Dmitri sighed, Iggie thought he was big and bad? Oh no, he was nothing. Nothing at all compared to a lot of the others, and he couldn't begin to explain how lenient Erik was with the albino man. No, he couldn't even begin; you should be dead at this point.
"My apartment is closer." he grumbled quietly as his foot pushed the door to the stairwell open. The stairwell that, maybe only a month or so before, he'd had Angel pushed up against. Things change, he guessed, though the bit of fire welling up in his stomach still hadn't gone away. Monsters didn't linger under beds. They walked the streets wearing haute couture and high heels. It was there everyday he went up and down the stairwell. Maybe this shows how you're actually a human, Dmitri. One who hides behind divinity and preaching, but a human regardless.
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Apr 6, 2014 5:25:41 GMT
He could see the streetlights glowing through his eyelids, warm, blurred and surreal. This entire thing felt surreal, and when the door shut behind them it was like dreaming of falling and waking to the dim flicker of florescents overhead, just before you hit the ground. He twitched, struggling against Dmitri, to sit up, looking him in the eye.
The saint Ignatius, the bishop, the martyr, he was torn apart by beasts.
"Yours?" He mumbled. It was hard to imagine that Dmitri had an apartment, had a home, belonged anywhere but outside the doors of a club. That he was an actual person and not a dog on a chain trained to bite.
It was all familiar in a way that made his stomach drop and his heart hammer, even if he hadn't quite yet realized why.
The saint, they paint him with lions, their teeth buried in his neck.
DMITRI ALEXANDROV
|
|
|
mortal
with 58 posts
|
You swear you can hear the coliseum roaring in your chest. |
|
Post by DMITRI ALEXANDROV on Apr 7, 2014 0:31:13 GMT
As Iggie did his best to sit up, to look Dmitri in the eye, he turned his gaze up and forward. "Yes, mine." he said as if it was nothing. Oh, Iggie, have you forgotten? Have you forgotten how wrong it is for the unholy to turn their gaze to the divine, as if hungry, as if owed? The familiarity between them was all wrong, even Dmitri knew this. Maybe, if he could admit this to himself, he could rectify that. Maybe, just maybe, their familiarity could be something of comfort.
He was torn apart by beasts, yes, but Dmitri wasn't one of them. It's hard to speak reason through a broken jaw, Dmitri thought, or raise your arms to pray when they were broken. But he'd realize one day it had all been for a good reason, he wasn't a complete asshole.
He was a little schoolyard boy again, that's all.
Dmitri managed to balance Iggie in his arms gently while he got the door open, and with a slow push of his foot closed it again. He was still cradling Iggie, as if a victory; as if this was the prize. You get the man who was made of liquor and winter, congratulations! With a sigh he still kept Iggie cradled, opening another door and closing it softly. Softly, not for himself but for the other. He was sweet in ways he would never grow to understand, or mean, whichever was worse.
Puttting Iggie down on his bed, his fingers gripped the ends of his shirt and tugged it up gently. His bed always had been sweltering, and he'd rather not deal with a pool of sweat in his bed.
He'd been silent the entire time.
|
|
|
mortal
with 130 posts
|
crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
|
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Apr 8, 2014 4:19:34 GMT
His brow creased a moment, he was confused a moment, then they were somewhere dim and hot and Iggie couldn't see anything but he could feel Dmitri's arms beneath him and his chest against him. This might have been intimate, unnervingly so, if Iggie wasn't so far gone.
He didn't notice he was carried like a treasure. Iggie expected something more painful past the fingers digging into him, holding him tight, keeping his listless frame upright. He could feel the sigh rise and fall in the other man's chest, the warmth of his breath.
It was still a dream, a feverish dream where the beasts drew no blood, nipped and danced in the grotesque icons, where their heavy paws pressed around, hot fur and reeking breath.
A bed beneath his back, cool hands that grazed his skin; of course they were cold. Dmitri leaned over him and Iggie caught the glint of his rosary, caught his hands. His eyes were inquisitive, lips parted in something dazed and vague and uncertain, but he was still.
|
|