milliways_bar | (no subject)

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*Thom hurries into the bar and sits down at a table, clutching a hand mirror.*

Having fun over there?

*Schuldig rolls his eyes.*

I'd be having MORE fun if I weren't fucking horny. Which you could help me with, you know.

*Whilst indulging his kink for exhibitionism, but THAT goes without saying.*

Could.

*Lucifer isn't moving.*

But I'm sort of comfortable here.

Bastard.

*Never let it be said that Schuldig allows minor obstacles to impede him. He takes this as a sort of backhand, inverse invitation because it suits him to do so, and slides off the table to climb into Lucifer's lap in a pliant straddle of warm limbs. When he speaks again, his tone is highly sardonic.*

Comfortable enough?

*Coldly -*

I preferred it before I became furniture, thank you.

*Schuldig sighs, irritably, and his eyes turn as cold as Lucifer's voice as he shoves himself off, standing with only a hint of unsteadiness. He's thinking something along the lines of: fuck this.

This is too much like Crawford, anyway.*

Yeah, whatever.

*He snags the dagger from where it dropped, tests it carelessly against his finger.*

Did you want something earlier, or were you just bored?

*A shrug.*

Thom's always good for entertainment. Though not so much when he's half-dead of overuse.

Mm.

*Non-committal murmur. Schuldig feels tired, all of a sudden, and dull with something like undirected resentment or bitterness.*

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