![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
((from this))
It happens; Arel sees the knickers hanging off the side of Janus' laundry hamper. It's clean laundry - Arel wouldn't be surprised if Janus washed their girl's underwear after sex, but he'd be surprised if Janus had a girl. It could be one of the many, many things Janus doesn't speak about, but it feels unlikely - dating, boys, girls, it's not the stuff that Janus keeps close to their chest. It's the stuff they know nothing about.
Arel leaves the knickers.
It happens again; and it's the exact same pair. That - that is the detail Arel stops on, fixates on. Even if Janus has a girlfriend, it's surprising that they would end up washing the same knickers twice in a row. It sends Arel reeling - looking over to the door as he approaches, looks over to make sure, but there's no mistaking it. It's the same pair. It starts something up in Arel, like a moped engine puttering in the back of his thoughts, cycling around Janus and who they are. Deadly yet innocent, naive yet battle-hardened. They're two sides of one coin, always putting Arel on a knife's edge, unsure if he'd get tails or face at any given moment. This discovery, it's - a bridge between the two, too much and not enough at once.
It keeps Arel awake.
When it happens again; it feels like the last straw for Arel. Like something breaks inside of him, between his stomach and his ribs, a sharp point under his skin. He rubs at it with two knuckles, his free hand grabbing the knickers out of Janus' laundry basket as another spike hit him in the stomach, but this one he knows; it's guilt. Still, he's here and he's alone and he can't help himself, his emotional brain taking over his rational one when he lies back down in bed, holding the knickers to his eyes.
Fingers drag along his stomach, his throat working hard as images flash in his head. Janus, bending over to grab one of their too many knives, a flash of skin and a flash of lace, suddenly obvious. Slipping the knickers on, up along their legs, tucking their dick into the black cotton. Readjusting themselves during class, fighting an erection, their thoughts going too fast, too hard.
Arel licks his lips, lets his fingers trail down to the waistband of his shorts, slip under, push them down to free his cock. His other hand brings the knickers closer to his face, inhales - he wishes they were dirty, and the mere thought sends another flash of heat up along his stomach, makes his cock twitch his hand. He moves slow, just as slow as he's imagining Janus would, taking the knickers off before jumping in the shower. Just as delicate as he thinks Janus would be, washing them by hand, careful and pink in the cheeks, bottom lip bitten a darker red.
Arel groans, closes his eyes tightly and lets the images flood him, bringing the knickers down and rolling his hips up into them, wraps them around his dick, like they're still on Janus and they're grinding down on Arel. The material is soft in places, scratchy where the lace is stitched in, a stark difference in sensations that grounds Arel to the moment.
He comes too fast - urgency and the very acute knowledge that this is forbidden heightening everything, keying him up and sending him hurtling through a powerful orgasm before he's ready, before he's quite there. He's short of breath; still coiled up tight, muscles aching, his brain going too fast for him to grab at any thought and contemplate.
There's some of his come on the knickers, and he'll have to wash them for Janus. It feels worth it.
Hopefully, he won't get caught.
It happens; Arel sees the knickers hanging off the side of Janus' laundry hamper. It's clean laundry - Arel wouldn't be surprised if Janus washed their girl's underwear after sex, but he'd be surprised if Janus had a girl. It could be one of the many, many things Janus doesn't speak about, but it feels unlikely - dating, boys, girls, it's not the stuff that Janus keeps close to their chest. It's the stuff they know nothing about.
Arel leaves the knickers.
It happens again; and it's the exact same pair. That - that is the detail Arel stops on, fixates on. Even if Janus has a girlfriend, it's surprising that they would end up washing the same knickers twice in a row. It sends Arel reeling - looking over to the door as he approaches, looks over to make sure, but there's no mistaking it. It's the same pair. It starts something up in Arel, like a moped engine puttering in the back of his thoughts, cycling around Janus and who they are. Deadly yet innocent, naive yet battle-hardened. They're two sides of one coin, always putting Arel on a knife's edge, unsure if he'd get tails or face at any given moment. This discovery, it's - a bridge between the two, too much and not enough at once.
It keeps Arel awake.
When it happens again; it feels like the last straw for Arel. Like something breaks inside of him, between his stomach and his ribs, a sharp point under his skin. He rubs at it with two knuckles, his free hand grabbing the knickers out of Janus' laundry basket as another spike hit him in the stomach, but this one he knows; it's guilt. Still, he's here and he's alone and he can't help himself, his emotional brain taking over his rational one when he lies back down in bed, holding the knickers to his eyes.
Fingers drag along his stomach, his throat working hard as images flash in his head. Janus, bending over to grab one of their too many knives, a flash of skin and a flash of lace, suddenly obvious. Slipping the knickers on, up along their legs, tucking their dick into the black cotton. Readjusting themselves during class, fighting an erection, their thoughts going too fast, too hard.
Arel licks his lips, lets his fingers trail down to the waistband of his shorts, slip under, push them down to free his cock. His other hand brings the knickers closer to his face, inhales - he wishes they were dirty, and the mere thought sends another flash of heat up along his stomach, makes his cock twitch his hand. He moves slow, just as slow as he's imagining Janus would, taking the knickers off before jumping in the shower. Just as delicate as he thinks Janus would be, washing them by hand, careful and pink in the cheeks, bottom lip bitten a darker red.
Arel groans, closes his eyes tightly and lets the images flood him, bringing the knickers down and rolling his hips up into them, wraps them around his dick, like they're still on Janus and they're grinding down on Arel. The material is soft in places, scratchy where the lace is stitched in, a stark difference in sensations that grounds Arel to the moment.
He comes too fast - urgency and the very acute knowledge that this is forbidden heightening everything, keying him up and sending him hurtling through a powerful orgasm before he's ready, before he's quite there. He's short of breath; still coiled up tight, muscles aching, his brain going too fast for him to grab at any thought and contemplate.
There's some of his come on the knickers, and he'll have to wash them for Janus. It feels worth it.
Hopefully, he won't get caught.
[janus has to physically hide themself from people to watch it, and when they do they're paranoid to turn the volume all the way down. but then it creeps up slowly as they listen and watch.
the speaker in the video is a man. and his eyeshadow is really good. but it's the lips that hold janus' attention for the longest time.]
Thanks.
Is that how you got so good at makeup?
Videos?
the speaker in the video is a man. and his eyeshadow is really good. but it's the lips that hold janus' attention for the longest time.]
Thanks.
Is that how you got so good at makeup?
Videos?
[just screaming until she oocly turns inside out]
You're good at research.
I thought civilian girls usually practice with their friends and their mothers.
Did you do that too?
I thought civilian girls usually practice with their friends and their mothers.
Did you do that too?
Do you think it's weird that I like it too
I won't do anything horrible if you think so
You can be honest.
I won't do anything horrible if you think so
You can be honest.
That's true.
Did you ever think that a girl turning into a wolf was bad?
Did you ever think that a girl turning into a wolf was bad?
That's sad but understandable.
What changed your mind?
What changed your mind?
being in a pack...
it's different than having friends or having a family
I'm a part of something bigger than myself, with these other people
these other wolves
they know me, and I know them, and we're all there for each other
humans go their whole lives without that, and I almost feel sorry for them
it's different than having friends or having a family
I'm a part of something bigger than myself, with these other people
these other wolves
they know me, and I know them, and we're all there for each other
humans go their whole lives without that, and I almost feel sorry for them
I think most creatures who aren't wolves go without that
I'm just a hunter and we only have a little bit of it. We have a cause instead of a pack.
Have you tried to explain it to your human family?
Do you think they would understand
I'm just a hunter and we only have a little bit of it. We have a cause instead of a pack.
Have you tried to explain it to your human family?
Do you think they would understand
You won't be
You'll have more lipstain finesse and also more friends.
You'll have more lipstain finesse and also more friends.
No I was completely serious!
Are you being self-deprecating?
You should be proud of your accomplishments.
Sometimes people with accomplishments turn out to be really mean but you aren't
Are you being self-deprecating?
You should be proud of your accomplishments.
Sometimes people with accomplishments turn out to be really mean but you aren't
I assume that you had human friends and that you're keeping them
And that now you have myth friends as well.
But that description probably resembles me. I don't get along with most Hunters
But I usually win fights.
You're welcome
And that now you have myth friends as well.
But that description probably resembles me. I don't get along with most Hunters
But I usually win fights.
You're welcome
[it's been more a month. more than a month at mythian academy, and janus loves it here like they've loved little else their entire life. they have friends. multiple friends. they've met their daimon, who is a mess in a lovely way, like found art. their roommate is very handsome. they now own three individual tubes of lipstain and some liquid eyeliner and three pairs of knickers and two pairs of earrings, their first, despite the fact they've had holes pierced for years. carmela was right: when you look good, you feel good. and janus doesn't really need anyone else to see any difference to feel it; to feel pretty and complete and at home in their skin.
not even the fact that the other hunter, bryn, had shown up— competition-- has been able to ruin it. it took a lot of work and numerous tentacle clippings, but janus has now weeks perfecting the redundant wards across the school grounds, and there was even a smug satisfaction to that. to knowing they'd gotten to the headmaster first, that they'll be the first to know if sylwia breaches the academy's mystic defenses again. they've been watching bryn. she's a good hunter; it's hard to read her, but janus is fairly certain that she isn't pleased.
it's still the mission, mind you. but you're allowed to be happy on missions. janus think so. there's no rule against it. besides, their mothers have been providing positive feedback from the elders and telling janus they're happy they've settled in so well.
so here they are! three o' clock sunshine outside. janus is coming back to the dorms now, an hour since class got out— an hour they'd spent watching bryn run through exercises with an axe on the grounds. they're thinking about maybe asking arel if he wants to go to the cafeteria together later, if he doesn't have a romantic or sexual engagement. they've prepared a series of leading questions about england, which they think may make arel smile, but they figure they should wash the day off their face first so they barge into the bathroom—
--and it's taken, someone forgot to lock the door.] Oh shit, [janus says. they've been swearing more since they came to the academy, which is perhaps the only downside. they're pretty sure it still sounds funny when they do it, like the inflection is off, but it's kind of find it come automatically to them like the other kids.] Sorry, I didn't— hello Arel. [he's washing something in the sink.] I have a ques...
[... ...
.................... janus stares.]
not even the fact that the other hunter, bryn, had shown up— competition-- has been able to ruin it. it took a lot of work and numerous tentacle clippings, but janus has now weeks perfecting the redundant wards across the school grounds, and there was even a smug satisfaction to that. to knowing they'd gotten to the headmaster first, that they'll be the first to know if sylwia breaches the academy's mystic defenses again. they've been watching bryn. she's a good hunter; it's hard to read her, but janus is fairly certain that she isn't pleased.
it's still the mission, mind you. but you're allowed to be happy on missions. janus think so. there's no rule against it. besides, their mothers have been providing positive feedback from the elders and telling janus they're happy they've settled in so well.
so here they are! three o' clock sunshine outside. janus is coming back to the dorms now, an hour since class got out— an hour they'd spent watching bryn run through exercises with an axe on the grounds. they're thinking about maybe asking arel if he wants to go to the cafeteria together later, if he doesn't have a romantic or sexual engagement. they've prepared a series of leading questions about england, which they think may make arel smile, but they figure they should wash the day off their face first so they barge into the bathroom—
--and it's taken, someone forgot to lock the door.] Oh shit, [janus says. they've been swearing more since they came to the academy, which is perhaps the only downside. they're pretty sure it still sounds funny when they do it, like the inflection is off, but it's kind of find it come automatically to them like the other kids.] Sorry, I didn't— hello Arel. [he's washing something in the sink.] I have a ques...
[... ...
.................... janus stares.]
[.... Arel stares back, the incriminating evidence plain as day in his hand. Black lace, cotton, comfortable and pretty, dripping with laundry detergent and water, draped over the back of Arel's hand. He was almost done, getting ready to rinse and hang the underwear - get away Scot-free.}
Janus -
[Janus what. I can explain? It's not what you think?
Actually, it's probably not what they think. Or - maybe it is, Arel has no idea anymore, doesn't know what to think about Janus anymore, what they want what they like why they do the things they do. Everything is off its axis.
Arel stands there, his tongue poking just slightly out of his mouth, the ball of his tongue piercing clicking against the back of his teeth as he tries, he tries to decide on what to say. He knows his cheeks are red, still remembering what he was doing barely fifteen minutes ago, thinking of Janus - their lithe body and their ruddy red lips and the array of random tattoos they sport. Thinking of Janus wearing the knickers like it's nothing, their cock half-hard against the black cotton.
He shouldn't be thinking of Janus like that. Probably. In the end, he says the only thing he can think of.]
Janus, I'm sorry.
Janus -
[Janus what. I can explain? It's not what you think?
Actually, it's probably not what they think. Or - maybe it is, Arel has no idea anymore, doesn't know what to think about Janus anymore, what they want what they like why they do the things they do. Everything is off its axis.
Arel stands there, his tongue poking just slightly out of his mouth, the ball of his tongue piercing clicking against the back of his teeth as he tries, he tries to decide on what to say. He knows his cheeks are red, still remembering what he was doing barely fifteen minutes ago, thinking of Janus - their lithe body and their ruddy red lips and the array of random tattoos they sport. Thinking of Janus wearing the knickers like it's nothing, their cock half-hard against the black cotton.
He shouldn't be thinking of Janus like that. Probably. In the end, he says the only thing he can think of.]
Janus, I'm sorry.
[it's a fairly logical sequence of thoughts that goes through janus' head. arel is washing their underwear. a positive interpretation is: he's helping, that's considerate, laundry in and of itself is tedious, necessary, and not particularly significant otherwise.
but it was a secret and private and something in the apology, the blatant shame flooding arel's face suggests he is aware he did something wrong. that goes in the negative column. which is probably why janus can hear their heartbeat going like jackhammers, a pulse beating so loud that an ordinary sixteen-year-old would think their heads would explode. but janus isn't ordinary; it's just like the night before their first mission when they were scared they'd die, or the first time they got shot and thought they'd die, or the nightmares for only a few weeks when they woke up in a sweat thinking they'd die. in the end, they didn't die.
and though it feels like they're going to die now, it's a useless feeling. they stuff it into a box for later assessment.
one moment, the hunter is in the doorway. the next, mirror glass plinks crunching, shattering behind arel's head and janus' arm is shoved up under his jaw where a little roll of their arm will shift the pressure to his windpipe. janus' eyes are as blank as stone. they're too lightweight to be a threat at a standstill, but that hadn't been the point; it'd been a show of speed, an ugly promise. a threat they'll regret later— unbecoming, reckless, more caught up in childish sentiment than they know. the sink bites into arel's ass and the panties go drip, drip.]
What did you do?
[there's no tremor to their voice, no weakness.]
but it was a secret and private and something in the apology, the blatant shame flooding arel's face suggests he is aware he did something wrong. that goes in the negative column. which is probably why janus can hear their heartbeat going like jackhammers, a pulse beating so loud that an ordinary sixteen-year-old would think their heads would explode. but janus isn't ordinary; it's just like the night before their first mission when they were scared they'd die, or the first time they got shot and thought they'd die, or the nightmares for only a few weeks when they woke up in a sweat thinking they'd die. in the end, they didn't die.
and though it feels like they're going to die now, it's a useless feeling. they stuff it into a box for later assessment.
one moment, the hunter is in the doorway. the next, mirror glass plinks crunching, shattering behind arel's head and janus' arm is shoved up under his jaw where a little roll of their arm will shift the pressure to his windpipe. janus' eyes are as blank as stone. they're too lightweight to be a threat at a standstill, but that hadn't been the point; it'd been a show of speed, an ugly promise. a threat they'll regret later— unbecoming, reckless, more caught up in childish sentiment than they know. the sink bites into arel's ass and the panties go drip, drip.]
What did you do?
[there's no tremor to their voice, no weakness.]
[The reaction is immediate. Janus' hand around his neck, his head throbbing with how hard he hit the mirror behind him. The sink uncomfortably digging into his lower back. The sense of immediate danger, while possibly misconstrued, filling up his lungs.
He goes blank. Arel's eyes turn just as dull as Janus' when he looks back, his body locking up, readying for a fight. Too many times this has happened that Arel doesn't feel fear about it anymore. It's just a sequence of events, one two three one two three one two three. Like a dance.
His hand lets go of the knickers and wraps around Janus' wrist, holding his neck. His free hand waves fingers by the lotus flower Janus' hand is half-covering, the ink dissipating in a spore-like cloud between the two of them as the energy floods Arel's body, from brain to the tips of his fingers. He feels them tingling, the magic starting to work. He reigns it in - he doesn't actually want for Janus' hand to fall off.
But he knows the pain - necrotic damage hurts like a motherfucker - and it gives him a minute advantage, enough to pull Janus' hand away from him, jaw clenched and eyes blank, unwavering. The moment he's free, he lets go, the spell subsiding. He slides back a step, and feels his muscles start to work normally again. Calming down.]
What do you think I did, exactly? What could I have done that would warrant that reaction?
[He holds a hand up, palm open to Janus, placating, but also a warning - the skull inked there could be activated in the blink of an eye.]
I just - got them dirty. I... look, Janus, at first I dismissed it, I thought maybe you were getting laid and keeping knickers and that's fine - bit creepy, but fine - but then they kept on appearing and I realised and - [He feels his cheeks flush, but he stands tall, rolls his shoulders.] It turned me on, okay?
[There.]
He goes blank. Arel's eyes turn just as dull as Janus' when he looks back, his body locking up, readying for a fight. Too many times this has happened that Arel doesn't feel fear about it anymore. It's just a sequence of events, one two three one two three one two three. Like a dance.
His hand lets go of the knickers and wraps around Janus' wrist, holding his neck. His free hand waves fingers by the lotus flower Janus' hand is half-covering, the ink dissipating in a spore-like cloud between the two of them as the energy floods Arel's body, from brain to the tips of his fingers. He feels them tingling, the magic starting to work. He reigns it in - he doesn't actually want for Janus' hand to fall off.
But he knows the pain - necrotic damage hurts like a motherfucker - and it gives him a minute advantage, enough to pull Janus' hand away from him, jaw clenched and eyes blank, unwavering. The moment he's free, he lets go, the spell subsiding. He slides back a step, and feels his muscles start to work normally again. Calming down.]
What do you think I did, exactly? What could I have done that would warrant that reaction?
[He holds a hand up, palm open to Janus, placating, but also a warning - the skull inked there could be activated in the blink of an eye.]
I just - got them dirty. I... look, Janus, at first I dismissed it, I thought maybe you were getting laid and keeping knickers and that's fine - bit creepy, but fine - but then they kept on appearing and I realised and - [He feels his cheeks flush, but he stands tall, rolls his shoulders.] It turned me on, okay?
[There.]
[pain explodes through janus' hand. reel-around, throw up, cry and shit your pants pain, rotting through their nerves and gnawing through their bones. janus doesn't reel around, throw up, cry, or shit in their pants, but it feels like a close thing for an instant. they don't know what they thought arel had done. objectively, they knew vodou and blood sorcery probably hadn't been involved.
the feeling of humiliation crawling over their skin feels bizarrely like what they felt when they were 11-years-old, finding out alongside the demigods and the centaurs what their daimon was. they'd made a lot of mistakes then, amid the taunts, both explicit and implicit, and they're making mistakes now. arel puts some space between them, and it's a good thing. janus looks at their hand, lets it drop. realizes what they did. objectively, nothing warrants that reaction; arel is a creature of light, and if he were human, janus would be returning to florida in shame.
objectively]
Okay, [they say, not really understanding. half understanding. they feel the tips of their ears starting to heat up, so janus stoops down and grabs the panties off the floor. they're wet now, clean, but cold, heavy in janus' fingers.
and they certainly don't feel fun and pretty anymore. so janus very calmly, very cooly, very objectively turns around, stepping out of the bathroom door. in a moment, they're rustling through the dorm room supplies— snatching out a garbage bag. it's with ruthless efficiency that they find the rest of the things: the other pairs, the tubes of lipstick, mascara, the stupid ugly jewelry smuggled in with the guns in their underwear drawer. disappointment is selfish. janus wonders how much meditation it's going to take to get over this, and then they think, fuck meditation.]
the feeling of humiliation crawling over their skin feels bizarrely like what they felt when they were 11-years-old, finding out alongside the demigods and the centaurs what their daimon was. they'd made a lot of mistakes then, amid the taunts, both explicit and implicit, and they're making mistakes now. arel puts some space between them, and it's a good thing. janus looks at their hand, lets it drop. realizes what they did. objectively, nothing warrants that reaction; arel is a creature of light, and if he were human, janus would be returning to florida in shame.
objectively]
Okay, [they say, not really understanding. half understanding. they feel the tips of their ears starting to heat up, so janus stoops down and grabs the panties off the floor. they're wet now, clean, but cold, heavy in janus' fingers.
and they certainly don't feel fun and pretty anymore. so janus very calmly, very cooly, very objectively turns around, stepping out of the bathroom door. in a moment, they're rustling through the dorm room supplies— snatching out a garbage bag. it's with ruthless efficiency that they find the rest of the things: the other pairs, the tubes of lipstick, mascara, the stupid ugly jewelry smuggled in with the guns in their underwear drawer. disappointment is selfish. janus wonders how much meditation it's going to take to get over this, and then they think, fuck meditation.]
Page 1 of 6