The Vanguard

"Well, I don't know any woman that doesn't like jewelry in some way or another." He was making sure to keep mental notes of everything the other was saying. He may not know who they 'the twins' were personally, but he didn't think the other would be stupid enough to lie to him. He'd seen some that were in the past, but Sebastian wasn't ringing him as that type. "How much money are you talking about? Four figures? Five?" Rigged fights were nothing new in the least bit to him, but he was curious to know what he was working with.

Sebastian took a deep breath, straightening his back ever so slightly. He absent mindedly ran his hand over his chest, scratching over the fabric of his tee. "What else do you want to know?" he asks, stretching his arms upwards above his head, joins cracking before he crossed them again over his chest. "I have general information. Gossip. Things they mention every now and then" the man leans backwards, brows raising as he waits for the other's response. "But if you want me to dig in...".

a selection of headcanon questions inspired by key bones in the human body.

skull.   what memories/thoughts do they guard the most from others ?

cheekbone. what makes them smile ?

mandible / jawbone. what are they incapable of saying out loud ?

teeth. what lasting mark do they leave on others ?

hyoid / neck. who taught them to speak up, or stay silent ?

clavicle / collarbone. who/what do they lean on when they're vulnerable ?

scapula / shoulderblade. what burden do they carry on their back ?

sternum. what makes their heart pound hardest ?

ribcage. who/what are they trying to protect ?

humerus. do they use humour as a shield or a weapon ? what from/to ?

radius. who/what do they reach for first in a crisis ?

ulna. who stands by them no matter what ?

carpals. what small habits do they have ?

metacarpals. do they ask for help or clench their fists and bear it ?

phalanges. what is their relationship with touch ?

spine. when do they lose their backbone, what scares them ?

pelvis. what future or legacy are they afraid/excited to be responsible for ?

sacrum. what sacrifices have they made ?

coccyx / tailbone. what outdated beliefs do they still carry, if any ?

femur. what drives them forward ?

patella / kneecap. how compliant/obedient are they, who will they kneel for ?

tibia. who/what keeps them moving forward ?

fibula. do they ever feel overlooked ?

tarsals. what past mistakes stick with them with every step they take ?

"You don't need to know all that. I'm not the one in debt." He didn't know who this guy was. Sebastian most certainly didn't know who he was. He wasn't in the business of volunteering information to relative strangers. He was a lot of things, but stupid most certainly wasn't one of them. For all he knew, this could be some kind of scheme or a setup to get him or his people caught up. "You can start with that last one."

And lighten up he did. Sebastian was a bit more at ease now that he'd thrown some meat and the other man seemed to have bitten into it. Information was, after all, a business of its own. Would anyone, in the same circumstance, have sold him as "Sebastian Acosta, the one that keeps everyone Secrets"? Probably not.

"The Twins?" he asks, head tilting slightly to a side as his eyes wander over the other's expression, trying his best to analyze him— but it kinda clicked. He was big, burly, muscular. Sports were definitely his thing. "Laura and Lorenzo jog around the corner every now and then. She'll occasionally stop here and gossip a little bit. She's really into stones and silver" he points towards one of the large displays at the side, precisely where he's got a couple silver pendants on display "Lorenzo has been dropping some money into fights lately. Boxing, Wrestling, MMA. Sometimes you'll bet to the best odds and then find out your guy mysteriously took one weirdly-angled punch and got knocked out" Okay, he's speaking now, and probably a little too fast. "Last I heard, they had good money on the next Wrestling Tag Team Championship. At least three matches are rigged".

Though welcomed, Alcide's grope of his ass was slightly rougher than he had anticipated. Not that he was complained, it simply awakened something in him that he'd not expected the wolf would be willing to take part of. The blond hissed once the larger man bit down on his neck, nostrils flaring as his skin burned with the gesture. His back was stiff against the wall, and the heat that radiated from the man's body was enough to already make him transpire ever so slightly. And yet— Ilan didn't flinch, didn't back down. He kept his challenging look, his eyes burning deeply into Alcide's.

He knew his boss would want the money. That was the whole reason he was here in the first place. However, that amount of pocket change wasn't about to get him anything more than laughed in his face. Nobody with any kind of self-respect would take that and let that be the end of it. So he would have to come back to the table with more than just some bills and lint. "Information it is, then. Better make it good."

"Tell me what is your line of work and I'll tell you what I know of your competition" maybe it was vague, but Sebastian would often hear and see things from different parts of town. "For example, if you're into 'parties' and 'fun enhancements', Annenkov comes to this store often. His daughter is into all of this stuff. They were here just yesterday buying some— well, some stuff" the man pauses, letting the information sink in for a couple seconds before he continues. "Maybe your business is related to finance, specifically, Antonio Mancini comes to the deli across the street, buys himself a sandwich every Tuesday and sits here to eat and work on his laptop" Sebastian now crosses his arms over his chest, muscle swelling underneath. "Or if you're into sports and bets, the Martinez Twins jog around this corner every morning. They're pretty well-behaved, those two. Laura's nice, her brother is kind of a dick, though" he grimaces, pausing again for a couple seconds before he looks at the other with raised brows. "Which one of those sounds more interesting to you?".

With every deep inward thrust, Magnum matched the speed and ferocity, jaw slacking, cheeks hollowing, lush pillowy lips tight around the thick mast, now a tinge of red from the abuse it was taking. His face was now glistening with sweat, the locks of his dark hair sticking to his forehead, temples and cheeks were wet with sweat, tears and drool that sputtered out when his lips met the very base of that delicious, addictive cock. He lost himself in his work, gurgling, gulping and sloshing that rod down like his damn life depended on it. It had been minutes since the assault began, and not once did he request a short break—that pretty, lengthy shaft was far more important than breathing. As he was starting to get into the beat of it, he groaned with his throat filled with cock upon feeling the hands taking possession of his head, securing a firm grip to still his position. Magnum, the obedient sub that he was, gladly did so without complaints. The hand braced to the outside of his hip was not to stop him in case of an emergency, nor was it to encourage him, it was simply to get some leverage and support to keep the rest of his body in position while Argis laid in the attack, fucking his mouth and throat with reckless abandon, chasing after his own pleasure.

Tension. He felt it build up. Argis spread his legs only slightly to adjust the height of his hips only a few milimeters, everything to line up perfectly with the man's lips. His fingers curled, almost as if to grab fistfuls of whatever he could of his dark hair and then— that's when the blond really picked up the thrusting. Sweat continued to drip down from his abs down to his hips, some from the tip of his nose. It was a struggle not to break out in moaning from the pleasure. For a moment, he just let go— forgot about his inhibitions and pistoned himself in and out of the warmth and tightness, just until his entire body tensed one last time.

"Well, then I'll be ready." Richard put it simply, swiftly returning to the back of his desk to begin collecting his belongings. And to think, he'd had plans of going home and taking a warm bath. All that would have to wait. "Oh, yeah?" Richard replied, one brow arched in question. "You sure it didn't have anything to do with the fact that you needed my help and you had to wait until I was done? Flattery won't normally get you anywhere, but in my lecture hall? It just might." Richard felt bold enough to offer Rhett a wink. The professor had no shame in their volleying. After all, the blonde was the one who started it.

"I know you said...old. But, roughly, if you had to guess, what's the approximation of said explorer?" Richard couldn't help but beg for more details. It was the scholar in him, always yearning to learn more. And Rhett had dropped the promise of something very juicy in his lap? How else was he expected to react, other than a kid in a candy store? "That's not surprising. Depending on the age this explorer lived, he very well could've killed some kind of creature he recognized from folk tales. With no means of recording these encounters other than journals and passing the tales on orally, it fits the bill. Whether it was actually a dragon remains to be seen. Of course, I understand. Which is why I feel more inclined to help you."

"Apparently, this piece is dated to the eight hundreds. Just the fact that text, drawings, ink and a crude approximation to paper has been able to survive for so many years is a feat on its own. Hence I'm a little..." he leans back, raising his chin as he looks towards the ceiling, finding the most appropriate word. "Skeptic". He was being honest now. Despite his very apparent obsession with myth creatures, Rhett wasn't a fool. He knew he was grasping at straws, thinking the needle in the hay was the Holy Grial— and yet, he wasn't discouraged. He liked mystery. He liked a Challenge. Maybe that's why he got along with his instructor so well, as he'd never been one to humor him or to tell him what he wanted to hear, as many others did. Maybe that's where the respect came from. Maybe that's why Rhett was so infatuated with the idea of him.