ArchivedLogs:Hunger Games

Hunger Games
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Steve
In Absentia	2016-02-09 "My heart is stubborn."
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Media Room - Lower East Side
Though this sound-proofed room comes equipped with the same complement of bright airy windows as most of the rest of the rooms around here, it /also/ comes with thick heavy blackout curtains for them, easily drawn to reduce the glare on the myriad screens around the place. The place of honor in the room goes to an enormous flatscreen television mounted on one wall; beneath there are a number of video game consoles hooked up to it and shelving to either side of the television holds an assortment of DVDs on the right and an assortment of video games on the left. There's plentiful seating with views of the television, in the form of wide microsuede couches and enormous squishy beanbags (plenty big enough to share) scattered around the floor. A mini-fridge up here stands beside one cabinet, both often kept stocked with snacks and (generally highly caffeinated) drinks. Across to the other side of the room there are comfortable armchairs and smaller tables, with plenty of outlets available for those who want to plug their computers in and work or play. Four common-use desktops sit on desks against the wall, accessible to any resident with a login. It's not too late in the evening yet, dinner only recently cleaned up downstairs. In here the television is on, Katniss and Peeta onscreen in a chariot in their fiery outfits. Dusk is kind of partially watching the movie, attention partially on his laptop in his lap. Kind of. Kind of not really focused anywhere, drifting off into space as often as not. A bottle of Bawls sits beside his beanbag, half empty. He's dressed in faded old corduroy, barefoot, shirtless, wings tucked half around him -- uncoloured, today, they're back to just their usual velvety black. Steve drifts in, a mug of hot cocoa and a plate of cocolate crackle cookies in hand. He's wearing a plain black t-shirt tight over his muscular torso, and much-mended blue jeans. He nods to Dusk, drops down onto the couch, and deposits food and drink on the table in front of him. "What is this?" he asks after watching the screen for a moment. There's a faint twitch in Dusk's wings as Steve enters, his muscles tensing briefly but then easing again. "Huh?" He pulls his gaze away from -- the wall where it had fixed, blinking as he looks over at Steve. "Oh, shit, cookies. Jax's?" His brows lift hopefully. "This? Uh, the Hunger Games. A -- movie. It's terrible." "Yes." Steve lifts the plate again, leaning over to hold them out toward Dusk. Pale blue eyes dart back to the screen again. "Ah, the Hunger Games, it is on my list, though I thought it was a book..." His brows furrow. "Why watch it, if you find it terrible?" "Oh, no, it's a book. A book -- series of books. This is the first movie. Based on the first book." Dusk's brows furrow, hand lifting to scrub at his eyes. He leans over to pluck a cookie off the plate with a quick sharp smile. "Oh no I -- Terrible like sad. I /like/ it just fine." Steve puts the plate down, retaining a cookie for himself to dip into his cocoa. Watches Dusk closely. "Are you feeling alright?" Dusk munches the cookie quickly, washing it down with a swig of Bawls. "{Been staring at this code way too fucking long,}" he answers with a crooked twitch of smile, "I think my eyes are starting to cross. And your heart is -- louder than this movie." His knuckles rub against his eyes again. Steve hums quietly -- a serious moment of consideration before he takes a bite of the cookie. "So, do we turn the movie up or tell my heart to quiet down?" He smirks, though only briefly. Looks Dusk over again. "Is my heart just /that/ loud, or are you hungry?" "{I can turn the volume up. I like your heart just fine how it is.}" Dusk taps his soda bottle against his knee, quick and jittery as he shifts in his beanbag. His eye focus on the movie, wings twitching behind him. "Been a -- minute since I ate. I mean. I had a big /dinner/." "That's good, because my heart is stubborn." Steve pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth and washes it down with cocoa. Watches the screen for a while, his blank gaze not registering much comprehension. "I have no idea what is happening. Missing a lot of context, I suppose." Turns to Dusk again; kind of matter-of-factly, "I meant hungry for /blood./" "{Oh -- right. Sorry.}" Dusk picks up a remote, pausing the movie and then restarting it. His attention seems just as scattered as the movie restarts, not really watching the screen or his laptop or Steve either. After a moment he gives up on any pretense of working, closing his laptop to set it aside. "Right. No. Yeah. That. Starving. {Sorry.}" His finger rake through his hair, smile a little crooked as he finally looks back over at Steve. "Definitely was not making progress on work. Hope your day's been less foggy than mine." "{You didn't need to --}" Steve breaks off as the films starts over again. "{-- do that. I'm used to not understanding what's happening.}" But for all that, he is watching...the very long CG graphic introductions for the production companies. "My day's gone all right; no especial fogginess." He glances over at Dusk again. "{My offer still stands -- the offer of my blood.}" "Yeah?" Dusk's eyes lock on Steve, a brief low growl thrumming in his chest then dying away. His eyes stay fixed on the other man, though, wings shivering once more. "{If -- you're sure. I'd definitely appreciate --}" One wing lifts in a small shrug. He tears his eyes away with some difficulty, looking back to the screen. "Used to, maybe. But it's not really hard to /let/ you know what's happening." Steve's pulse speeds up -- though not by a lot -- at the sound of Dusk's growl. "{I'm sure. I can lose quite a lot of it without too much ill effect, and I recover fast. But even if I didn't...}" He shrugs, relaxing again and sipping his cocoa. "{I'd want to help you in all the same.}" Setting the mug down, he rises. Goes to the other man. "{I appreciate /that./ Really I do.}" Dusk's smile at that last is easy, warm. One wing stretches out from under him as Steve approaches, brushing lightly down against the outside of the other man's arm. "{Thanks.} I should --" He's pushing himself lazily more upright, shoulders rolling in a slow stretch, "go get a. Needle." Steve runs his fingertips over the soft, fuzzy wing before turning it to offer Dusk a hand up. "If you prefer. But if it's the same to you, I'd rather you bite me. Well, provided you don't bite like B." Then, with a faint, crooked smile, "{It's bound to be /faster/, no?}" Dusk's wing shivers beneath Steve's fingers, a low rumble of purr growling up in his chest. He reaches up to close his hand -- veeery gently -- around Steve's, but doesn't actually stand. Just tips his face up towards Steve, eyes searching the other man's face. "{It's faster.}" There's a flush of colour creeping into his pale cheeks. "It's just -- are you sure that -- I mean, you remember last time, right? When I bite people, it feels -- much stronger than that." His smile hooks up, faintly, wing curling just slightly further around Steve's shoulder. "-- For both of us. I just don't want to put you in any --" His head shakes, quickly. "{I remember.}" Steve blushes deeply, his pulse speeding up again. "{It was...} intense, but I was myself. And I enjoyed it." Smiles shyly. His hand tightens around Dusk's -- a short, very controlled squeeze. "{I've had that talk with Jax.}" His shoulders relax beneath Dusk's wing, and he sinks down onto the beanbag beside the other man. "And, most importantly, I'm comfortable in your hands." "{But comfortable with what?}" Dusk's wing curls more fully around Steve, tucking the other man in close at his side. He settles back in the beanbag again, reaching for his soda for another sip before setting it aside. "{Intense, yeah. /Good/ intense, maybe. Just -- the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.}" His head rests back against the beanbag, fanged smile crooking easily as he tips his head to the side to look at Steve. "If you're putting yourself my hands, it's really important to me to know ahead of time what those hands should be /doing/." Steve rests his head on Dusk's shoulder. Idly caresses the inside of the wing wrapped around him. "I would happily make out with you -- but that hasn't actually got anything to do with whether you bite me or how much it affects me." He quiets, considering -- or maybe distracted by the film momentarily. "{I'd be happy to do a lot more than that, but not in common space. What about you?}" He turns and raises his eyebrow at Dusk. "{I don't want to hurt you, either.}" "{You won't. I want you. I like -- this.}" Dusk's breath catches for a moment, wing tightening around Steve. He nuzzles in against the other man's neck, lips brushing briefly against his throat. "... and probably the others will appreciate you reminding me we're in the common room. We should move. Your room? {Please.}" "Oh..." Steve leans back further, baring his neck to Dusk's lips. "{Wait. Right. We should...}" He sits up, pulling away reluctantly. Stands and offers Dusk his hand again. His voice is low soft, "Yeah, my room."