that's what i tell 'em, no rules

it had been a long fucking day & the only thing Silas was interested in, was grabbing a drink at the towns shitty bar & not having to worry about literally anything paranormal for at least twelve hours. & it appeared to be his his lucky day. because as it seemed, his good looks did still work, even at a shitty pub somewhere in bumfuck, Indiana. he wouldn’t lie & tell that he hadn’t been checking out the billard playing male from across the bar anyway, but in his current state, tired & slightly dizzy from his fourth beer, he probably wouldn’t have made the first move. on the other hand, a day like this deserved to end with at least something rewarding, even if it was just a quick fling. chocolate hues wandered slowly over his opponent with a crooked smirk & Silas took his time with a reply, as he wrapped his lips around the bottle once more, taking another long gulp. shoulders slowly raised at the other males question, as eyebrows shot upwards in a teasing manner. „What if I do?“

he had caught the man staring.

now vaughn, he was on a hunt. a different kind than he was typically bound to do — no dark back alley stalking for him this late night. a bar like this was a buffet for him, a real pick and choose, something he could have his fill of. and sometimes a willing prey could be just as satisfactory as the thrill of the chase.

[F01]  [R]  crowds  [S]  against  a  wall,  their  hand  sliding  up  [S]’s  side.

[F02]  [R]  takes  [S]’s  chin  between  their  fingers,  tilting  their  face  up  slowly.

[F03]  [R]  steps  between  [S]’s  knees,  hands  settling  on  their  thighs.

[F04]  [R]  leans  in  close  to  [S]’s  ear.

[F05]  [R]  grabs  the  back  of  [S]’s  shirt  and  pulls  them  in.

[F06]  [R]  pins  one  of  [S]’s  wrists  above  their  head,  the  other  hand  resting  low  on  their  waist.

[F07]  [R]  runs  their  thumb  over  [S]’s  lower  lip,  slow  and  deliberate.

[F08]  [R]  presses  their  forehead  to  [S]’s,  breathless,  waiting  for  a  reaction.

[F09]  [R]  hooks  a  finger  in  the  collar  of  [S]’s  clothes  and  tugs  them  closer.

[F10]  [R]  cages  [S]  in  with  both  arms,  gaze  dropping  to  their  mouth.

[F11]  [R]  slides  their  hand  around  the  back  of  [S]’s  neck,  guiding  them  forward.

[F12]  [R]  pulls  [S]  onto  their  lap  with  little  warning.

[F13]  [R]  backs  [S]  onto  a  bedroll,  hovering  just  above  them.

[F14]  [R]  traces  a  line  down  [S]’s  chest  slowly

[F15]  [R]  stands  behind  [S],  one  hand  settling  firmly  on  their  hip.

[F16]  [R]  tilts  [S]’s  face  toward  theirs.

[F17]  [R]  slips  their  fingers  into  [S]’s  hair,  pulling  gently.

Johnny had woken up with a clouded memory, sprawled out on the chest of the man he had a full night with and utterly confused about the position for exactly seven seconds until everything came flooding back to him. Captain was going to kill him if he found out. It was his immediate thought, adrenaline surging through his body as he pulls himself off of his boss's relative, the sinful memories of what he had done with the man doing very little to ease the very prominent morning reaction hanging between his legs.

" Aye. Fuck, I'm so beyond fucked. " The words tumble out, accent piquing each word as he rushes to grab his underwear and pull them up his thighs. He couldn't stick around, not when he now had to look Price in the face knowing that he rode a man who looked eerily like him, let alone the man's cousin.

Relations with your teammates relatives were off limits for a reason, the tamest being how awkward it was.

Turning back to the man, seeing his sheepish expression and... well, he looked mighty hot laying there but that wasn't important. Johnny instead pulls a defensive stance, built arms crossing in front of him. " So ... last night was a riot, you fucked me real well and good, mate, but you gotta know this is a disaster right? Your cousin is real important person in my life. I never want to hurt him. "

Though Johnny had to admit that was a reach, how would two grown men sleeping together hurt another person? Price wasn't his cousin's keeper, yet the guilt still gnawed at him. He was turning into a damned softie.

the older man certainly wasn't expecting such a drastic reaction to his mostly innocent question when they'd first woken up. "tone it down, will ya? jesus." vost propped himself up on the bed, like he couldn't withstand the freak out that was happening in front of him. he was getting on his years to have his morning explode into chaos like this — never mind the job he had, which frequently had mornings way more chaotic than this. just that... this was more of a interpersonal chaos. and considering there was alcohol involved last night, probably was ailed by a hangover as well. not to mention, the sun wasn't doing him any favours either. "calm down, johnny." vost held a hand up half in what he hoped would be a calming gesture, like he would do to a cornered animal, and half in a futile attempt to slow things down a bit.

"How would someone be so stupid to the point of refusing such a thing of beauty?"

Dalvin liked to see the world in a rather poetic way. Not flowery and silly. He had a thing for giving coin to the poets who could really see the beauty in the raunchy things that turned him on. One such man was naked in Dalvin's chambers, cock hard in one hand, saying he once had a lover who hated his big cock and refused to suck on it. Dalvin licked his lips, just by staring at the thing.

"Just promise me you won't let me go until you have it all deep in me." He approached, fully dressed in his fancy clothes, with lacey sleeves and colorful ties. He let his mouth fill up with saliva and then made himself comfortable in between those spread legs. Next thing was slowly trying to fill his mouth with cock. It was indeed a thing of beauty and its size was what gave it the perfection sort of detail. But it was a struggle.

luken did not hold contempt for nobles. yet there was something so satisfying about being able to take control of one, all too willing said noble might be. he did however, due to his arcane talents, hover in the similar circles adjacent to the highborn. which was how he found himself in the other man's bedchambers. lord dalvin, who seemed to often speak before he could catch himself, now on his knees before him.

He couldn't help the smile that came on his lips when he spotted the familiar man sitting down at the bar, trying to ignore the way his heart rate spiked just at the sight of him. At first, he had been drawn to Seamus because of the way his accent reminded him of home, instantly wanting to hear him talk for a sense of familiarity. But over the weeks, he had found himself just wanting to be near the older man, even going so far as to blatantly flirt.

with the semester coming to a close, seamus had returned to the bar to celebrate its end. it had been an infrequent over the years during his tenure but over the last couple of weeks he found himself drawn to the place due to the presence of a fellow countryman. the professor also found he spent most of his time at the bar top than the side seats or the floor. seamus had found a kindred spirit in the bartender and preferred talking to him than anyone else in the bar. sometimes he wondered if andy got into trouble for chatting him up way too often during his shift — but he supposed the other could play it up as a ploy to get him to order more drinks, which worked.

It was the same old song and dance. Cyril was exhausted from burning the candle at both ends as he juggled his domestic life and picked up the slack for his team in his detective work but instead of letting Jensen help him-- like all the other times he has offered before in the past-- he brushes it off and refuses to bring him in. At this point it might as well be a ritual for the two of them. "I think you and I have different definitions of the word fine." He argued, softly. "Let me just put some feelers out, off the books. I have a few sources that might be able to help get you a better lead. You don't have to tell anywhere where the info comes from if it's good. Helping you isn't a waste of time for me."

As frustrated as he was enamored with his husbands stubborn tenacity, he watched the man swipe his bottle from the table and take a swig; knowing, in his chest, that there was no way he could spin his offer to actually convince Cyril to let him help.

"Don't change the subject," the smirk on his lips as he deflected the question proved two things; yes this was his husband's shirt, and yes he hoped he would notice him take it. "I won't push it any further, but just think. If you would get out of that head of yours and let me in, we could catch the guy and you could have a break for once; with me."

Shaking his head in feigned disappointment at the next offer, Jensen betrayed his own attempt at not appearing amused by the idea as he reached out to loosely hook his fingers into the belt loops of the other's pants; letting his hands hang from them without pulling on him yet. "Yeah? My own personal holiday menace fucker?" He laughed softly. "--and what would that look like Cy?"

he evaded the cops all these years, what's one more? saying he'd think about it was already a large compromise that he gave to his love, especially since jensen mentioned he wouldn't push it any further. cyril knew they would never complete drop the discussion so it was up to him to close that gap eventually. he knew it was hypocritical to mention that he didn't want to waste his husband's time, that he didn't want him to end up being consumed by the cases when one person in their relationship already was. cyril just didn't want himself to be the reason jensen ended up having sleepless nights trying to solve an unsolvable crime.