Of Demons and Darkness

the man's grin caused a mirrored reflection to plaster onto the jester. now that was a reaction he'd expected. this was his game. he welcomed the man's advances, even leaned into them. he would not allow their bodies to touch though; he needed that electric current to friction between them first. the one that caused delirious, confused mornings with only a halfmind of the savage events of the night before. when the silken tones of his guest kissed the diamond threads of his ear, the man couldn't help but to allow a groan to slip haphazardly through his lips.

what could he teach him? perhaps how to love, to take time to know someone, to build that sexual tension over years until finally it exploded in one night of delicious passion? no, a beast such as himself didn't love but for a single night. to give his full attention to anyone but the gods would be foolish. they owned him. he was their just siren, bringing in the damned and broken for them to cast down to niflheim. that was how it should and always will be.

a toothy smirk played over his penciled maw, mercury and cerulean spectacles shining. he stepped past the man's shoulder, neck lowering to bring his crown eye-level with his groin where he aimed his breath. "i need information on a woman named newt." his eyes played over the man's tender regions; he really was a gorgeous man. "newt saxe. do you know who she is?"