[ Said in that remarkably shitty way that makes it clear what Gen really means is, 'I fucking wish I was having this conversation with a pretty girl with big tits.' ]
But you'd throw a pissy little fit if I tried to go home with that one -- [ said as he jerks his head towards the bar, where the same beautiful young vampires from before is still lurking, gaze unsubtle fixed on Gen and no doubt just waiting for Liem to back off so she can get a convenient stupid juice box for the night ] -- wouldn't you? So I'm settling.
[ Nobody asked for him to settle???
Still, he's stumbled too far down this line of thought to back off now, and Gen idly picks at the high neck of the black turtleneck shirt he usually wears, peeling the side of it halfway down so he can slide his fingers along the side of his throat. You're supposed to be able to feel your pulse like this, right? -- oh, there it is. Hand pressed against that spot where he can feel the gentle throbbing in his veins, he looks back to Liem with that customary shitty smirk. ]
I keep telling you, it's not a big deal. And I'm curious now. Hollywood movies always make it look like it feels real good. Is that true?
[ As if Liem couldn't guess before from Gen's smoking habit -- he's weak to any promise of pleasure. And not just in the way that normal, hot-blooded young men are. For Gen, any prospect of feeling good enough to empty his head out of pesky thoughts is deeply enticing. And if the price to pay is a pint or two of blood, he'll gladly pay that to give it a go. ]
no subject
[ Said in that remarkably shitty way that makes it clear what Gen really means is, 'I fucking wish I was having this conversation with a pretty girl with big tits.' ]
But you'd throw a pissy little fit if I tried to go home with that one -- [ said as he jerks his head towards the bar, where the same beautiful young vampires from before is still lurking, gaze unsubtle fixed on Gen and no doubt just waiting for Liem to back off so she can get a convenient stupid juice box for the night ] -- wouldn't you? So I'm settling.
[ Nobody asked for him to settle???
Still, he's stumbled too far down this line of thought to back off now, and Gen idly picks at the high neck of the black turtleneck shirt he usually wears, peeling the side of it halfway down so he can slide his fingers along the side of his throat. You're supposed to be able to feel your pulse like this, right? -- oh, there it is. Hand pressed against that spot where he can feel the gentle throbbing in his veins, he looks back to Liem with that customary shitty smirk. ]
I keep telling you, it's not a big deal. And I'm curious now. Hollywood movies always make it look like it feels real good. Is that true?
[ As if Liem couldn't guess before from Gen's smoking habit -- he's weak to any promise of pleasure. And not just in the way that normal, hot-blooded young men are. For Gen, any prospect of feeling good enough to empty his head out of pesky thoughts is deeply enticing. And if the price to pay is a pint or two of blood, he'll gladly pay that to give it a go. ]