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WHO: John Constantine & OPEN
WHERE: Maurtia Falls, mostly
WHEN: anytime in March
WHAT: Magic! Drinking! CR building in general.
WARNINGS: nudity, chicken blood, alcohol, eta nsfw in the thread with Bob

[Maurtia Falls #007]

Currently, Constantine is standing outside of his housing in Maurtia Falls on whatever passes for a front lawn and it's fairly dark—which is probably a good thing, considering he's not wearing any clothing and is covered in chicken blood. Hey, he's trying not to make a mess in the house, alright? He's such a considerate housemate, really. (Hopefully any passing cops will see it that way.) Plus, being outside beneath a full moon helps with the general ambiance. The 'general ambiance' of what one might ask (if you dare) and if anyone stops and watches, it might become apparent to some that he's casting a spell, standing in a protective circle of what might be flour (but probably isn't), chanting first in English-

"Hear me, most Unnameable of Devourers who guardeth the Eternal Gateway! I seek an audience with one in your embrace!" Which is followed by a few commanding-sounding phrases in Old Aramaic (rinse, repeat)—although... nothing appears to be actually happening.

[Maurtia Falls; some dive bar]

In more clothed circumstances, John can be found at his home-away-from-home, aka a neighborhood bar, where he's just about halfway through a bottle of whiskey, an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the bar in front of him, brooding ~~sexily~~.

Or alternately, catch him relating a story to the bartender and anyone else who might be sitting close by-

"You call that fun? Fun is when your ex-girlfriend who's currently a nun shoots you in the gut and leaves you at the mercy of an Invunche, and in order to survive, you're forced to invite a demon king to possess you, and after you go on a murder spree, you get locked up in a Mexican prison with time running out and very little 'ope of an exorcism. Now that was a fun weekend."

[Wildcard] Create your own starter and John will be there!

[Disclaimer: both of the above scenarios shamelessly inspired by NBC's Constantine. Prefer brackets? Go for it!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

John hesitates, his better judgment warning him not to do anything of the sort—if he were afraid just talking about magic would scare this bloke away, opening what looks like a portal to Hell ought to send him shrieking away into the night if he's skittish at all.

But then, when does John ever listen to his better judgment? Also, he loves to show off.

He takes a quick look around, and then placing his hand on Bob's shoulder, nudges him towards a dark alleyway. "Right then, in here, yeah? It's a bit... dramatic." To say the least.

Once in the alley, he takes a few steps away from the other man and takes a deep breath, muttering words in an ancient language while making decisive gestures with his hands, which leave fiery trails behind then as he draws figures and shapes in the air. He finishes the spell with a commanding flourish, and a fiery swirling vortex appears, growing in size until it's large enough for a man (or two men) to walk into. Ignoring it for the moment, John turns his attention back to Bob, leaning forward to kiss him heatedly while his hand cups him between the legs. Pulling back, John winks at him and steps into the portal, giving him a 'come hither' look over his shoulder, which Bob can choose to follow or not.

"Alright, alright," Bob laughs as he's willingly steered into a dark alley, welcoming the contact at his shoulder but behaving admirably considering the possibilities that await them. Privacy is something he doesn't pay attention to most of the time but some things, things like this, he doesn't have a particular desire for an audience. He half-wonders whether the man's changed his mind and wants to get hot and fucking bothered right here.

"The naughty shit I bet's happened down here," he comments as John pulls away to get started on what Bob's really curious to see. He doesn't have any further smart comments, just watches on with his eyes following the trails of fire seemingly springing from the other man's hands. It's mesmerising, nothing like he's ever seen before, and he only realises his mouth has been hanging open when it snaps shut as the portal appears.

"Fuck, that's..." he means to say 'amazing', but before he can get the word out, John's mouth is on his, a warm hand framing his crotch. He tastes like gin and cigarettes. If Bob cared to play it more cool he might have clamped down on the appreciative groan that works its way free from his lips, but he doesn't. As suddenly as the hand appeared it's gone again, the other man already out of his reach and stepped into the portal and Bob, a little disappointed at the loss of contact, finally finds a cheeky grin just for John.

With little to no regard for if this is a bad idea or not he follows, not stopping until he's stepping in through the portal and reaching out with a hand to strike up some more contact.

Surprisingly perhaps, there's no sensation either physically or visually of walking through fire; as Bob takes a step in, he's immediately stepping out on the other side—which happens to be John's bedroom in Maurtia Falls 007. Unfortunately however, it's not the greatest-looking bedroom, but that's mostly due to its present occupant being a touch on the messy side, with clothing scattered around, as well as empty beer and other assorted alcoholic bottles, a few dirty dishes and a random assortment of other things one probably shouldn't look too closely at.

"Home sweet 'ome," John says drolly, as the portal disappears behind them. He then pauses, wondering how Bob's reacting to all... this.

Stepping out on to the other side is a mind fuck and Bob, having never experienced anything like it, can't help but look back over his shoulder at where the portal had been. Completely dumbfounded, he takes a moment to try and wrap his brain around what just happened.

Turning his gaze back around on to the man he'd followed here, he raises both eyebrows and after a second of saying nothing at all, laughs.

"Think you just took my portal virginity."

He wants to know how it works, natural curiosity dialed up to a hundred, but he reckons they've got time to chat later. Definitely later. The messy room is mostly ignored (his isn't much better and that's after he'd had help tidying it up) and he closes the distance between them, hand reaching out to bunch up in John's shirt to pull him closer until their hips meet.

"Promise I'm more experienced in other things," he finally adds, words low and heated as his eyes drop to John's lips and then back up to his eyes.

"There are worse places a portal can lead too, for certain," he says. Hell, usually, not that he really wants to think about going there at the moment. Thankfully the other man seems to be taking this in stride.

"Are yeh, now? We'll see about that, eh?" he murmurs, his lips very close to Bob's, his eyes darkening. Without stepping back at all, he shakes his arms free of the trenchcoat, letting it drop to the floor, then pulls his already loose tie over his head, chucking it across the room, after which, he loses no time in starting to kiss him fiercely.

Since Bob's hands are already on John's shirt, he figures Bob can take care of getting him out of that.

More than happy to help, Bob's grin disappears as John kisses him, his attention suddenly poured into concentrating on that mouth against his own and his fingers blindly working at unbuttoning the shirt he's got hold of. He's acutely aware of his whole body aching for this kind of closeness, the simpleness of wanting skin on skin contact and sharing a moment like this with somebody who seems to want it just as much as he does.

Returning the kiss with every ounce of fierce dominance that's not usually on show, he makes light work of the buttons. He's not pushing the shirt off the other man yet but instead sliding his hands inside the gaping sides of fabric. Running his fingers over warm ribs, he draws his palms down the other man's back, not stopping until he's got the other man's arse in his hands so he can rock his hips forward. The friction he creates is distracting, pulls a low, unapologetic groan out of him.

John gives Bob the same treatment; opening buttons and belt fastenings wherever his fingers encounter them—not quite undressing him as yet, more like working up to it, both fast and slow at the same time as flesh gets exposed inch by inch.

His own skin becomes increasingly heated beneath Bob's wandering fingers, and he breaks off the kiss long enough to get some air, technically gasping more than breathing before diving back in again, grinding his hips into Bob's in accordance with the other man's movements.

Hard pressed not to give in to how frantically he wants to take John's clothes off, Bob's forces himself to loosen his hands. Shrugging his own shirt off is easier when he's not completely entwined with the other man and even though he's relinquished his hold of John's arse, it gives him the opportunity to cup the other man's face.

Framing John's jawline with his warm hands, he takes the opportunity to pull back a fraction, takes a much needed breath himself and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. He takes a good look at the other man's face, lets his appreciative gaze drop down the front of John's body before his hands drop to his shoulders and he pushes the white shirt clean off. It lands at the floor somewhere but he doesn't care where.

"Mm. Very fucking nice," he comments hoarsely, eyes flicking up over John's shoulder to locate the bed before he's leaning in again. With his mouth dropping to the side of the other man's neck, kisses trailing a sloppy line up from base to jawline, he uses his weight to not-so-gently suggest they make for the bed.

After his shirt hits the floor, John makes an executive decision that his trousers need to go that way as well, yanking his belt open and pushing them down partway. Unfortunately his shoes are going to prevent him from stepping out of them altogether just yet, but first things first, as they were getting uncomfortably tight in the crotch area.

Mostly just clad in his boxers now, he doesn't mind in the least being shoved back towards the bed, although his movement is impeded a little due to the trousers binding his ankles to some extent. Not wanting to risk falling over, he slides his hands down inside Bob's pants, firmly gripping his arsecheeks in order to steady himself as he shuffles backwards, pulling Bob as much as Bob is pushing him, and when the edge of the bed hits the back of his legs, falling back and dragging the other man down on top of him.

Hearing the sound of a belt buckle being unfastened - leather pulled through metal - Bob can feel his heart speed up, his skin already flushed and warm with anticipation. The swish of fabric and John's hands accidentally grazing his crotch is what really gets to him more.

Playfully sucking the most delicate part of the other man's neck, he half-grins when he realises he's left a faint mark. It'll be gone soon enough, his attention turning to the logistical challenge of getting the other man to the bed without them both accidentally ending up on the floor. It wouldn't be the worst outcome and Bob's sure he could work with it even if they did, but he huffs out an amused laugh as they finally tumble down on to the bed. He's at least mindful of not landing on top of the other man too heavily, purposely avoiding touching John's crotch even through the thin layer of fabric because he can be a bit of a tease like that sometimes.

"Proper overdressed now," he murmurs, not clarifying which one of them he's talking about. He doesn't wait for a reply, leaning in to reclaim the other man's lips in another heated kiss. Barely pausing, he's already moving again, shifting from where he landed on top of John to the side so he can slide a hand under one of the other man's knees to pull it up. As soon as it's within reaching distance, he blindly pushes off one of the shoes keeping John's trousers around his ankles, hearing it hit the floor with a satisfying thunk. The trousers need to go and if he can help by taking off the other man's shoes so he can actually press his hips between the other man's legs, he's happy to assist.

John looks heatedly down his chest at the other man, which is rising and falling as if he's been running in a race, although he's too busy panting to do much talking at this point, not making any comment just yet on who's more overdressed, not that Bob gives him much of a chance. It'll probably be a moot point very soon anyway, if things keep going the way they're going. And considering the subsequent loss of his shoe, clearly John's losing the overdressed race, not that he minds that in the least.

Catching his breath a little, he breaks into a crooked smirk. "Aren't you a bloody tease," he says, kicking his foot free of one half of the trousers and leaving his leg pulled up with his knee bent, the sole of his stockinged foot resting on the bed, which is a fairly welcoming position for any intrusion of Bob's hips, especially when he lets his knee fall a bit to the side.

"Maybe," Bob replies low and amused as the other man takes care of the trouser leg that's the problem. He takes the opportunity to move, lifting himself until he's got one hand pressed into the mattress next to John's shoulder and the other is pushing off the second shoe and the rest of his trousers with it.

"Stick it on the feedback form later, yeah?" he adds cheekily, grinning and finally settling his still fully clothed hips in between the other man's legs, lowering the rest of himself a moment later to claim the other man's lips in a heated kiss. Brushing his fingers from John's hip to his bare knee, he rocks his hips experimentally, teasing not just John but himself too.

"I don't make an 'abit of filling out forms," John murmurs into his ear as he slides his hands beneath the waistband of Bob's loosened-but-still-present trousers, gripping the other man's arsecheeks with strong fingers as he grinds his crotch up into him—which is possibly a lot less of a tease for John, given the thin cotton of his boxers allows for a good amount of sensation to pass through. "I'm a rebel like that, yeah?"

Without actively pushing them down, he manages somehow to get the trousers a bit lower, mostly by using his legs, which are currently wrapped around Bob's thighs.

Barely clamping down on a pleasure-filled shiver at the hot breath against his ear and John effectively sandwiching him in between his rocking hips and the palms of his hand, Bob goes with it. He has half a mind to throw patience out the window but, realistically, he's still feeling distantly sore from his debut at the underground fight club to go for it. The bruises might not be livid anymore but he's still not exactly on top form.

It doesn't mean that he's looking for excuses, though. He wants to make sure he shows John a good time and considering he's trailing behind in the too-many-clothes category, he knows he needs to fix that before he gets too carried away with those rocking hips.

"Oh I'm the tease? Really?" he finally says, amusement colouring his eyes as he mockingly shakes his head in disapproval. "Rebel want to help me out here?" he adds, hooking a thumb into the waistband of his own jeans and boxers to try and pull them down further.

Bob's probably not going to get his jeans down much farther if John's legs stay wrapped around his thighs, but it's not as though John actually wants to prevent that from happening after all, so he grins in response, propping his feet up on the bed again. "Forget 'ow to get your own trousers off, 'ave yeh squire? Sounds like it might be a bit awkward in certain circumstances."

John could of course use his hands to help, seeing as how they're already right there so to speak, but he's rather enjoying grabbing Bob's arse, so he'll just keep on doing that for the moment, gazing at him hungrily as the jeans inch down.

It's not like Bob can blame the man. He does a good arse.

At the gentle banter he laughs, putting a little more effort into tugging down both jeans and boxers until he can't help a sigh of relief escape. Jeans aren't exactly forgiving when it comes to confining certain parts of his anatomy. His enthusiasm is clear as he wriggles out of them and pushes both shoes and socks off his feet in almost the same movement. There's a lot of things he's decent at one-handed.

"Fixed it," he murmurs as his discarded jeans half straddle the end of the bed, not that he's paying much attention. Lowering himself back down into the space John's created for him between his legs, he leans in for a kiss, but this time his lips land at the other man's throat.

John would definitely agree that Bob's arse is phenomenal, potentially the eighth wonder of the world, and that's without even actually having seen it in all its glory as yet, since Bob's been facing him pretty much.

As the other man settles against him again, he's just going to go right ahead and explore said wondrous arse, his fingers dipping in more intimately as he tilts his head back to give Bob better access to his neck.

"Now I'm the one feelin' a bit overdressed."

"'cause you are."

The words are spoken against John's throat, a momentary hitch in Bob's breathing because he can feel fingers in distracting places. With self-control lacking and patience already thin, his hips rock forward responsively, the perfect example of cause and effect.

Half-weighing up his options - he's soaking up all the touches because they give him energy - Bob finally pulls away with a frustrated grunt, sitting back on his own heels so he can rid the man of the underwear and socks he's still wearing. No more waiting around.

Holding a hand out in the air beside him without explanation, he looks heatedly down at the now naked man beneath him, his other hand rested firmly at John's thigh and not wanting to break the connection between them. A small tube and coloured square of foil materialise in his palm, silently summoned. They're from his own stash - it makes things ten times quicker when he doesn't have to ask his host for a condom and some lube.

"Getting down to business, are we then?" John murmurs, which of course is accompanied by a characteristic smirk. And for the record, he's definitely not objecting, going so far as to start stroking himself, now that it's more accessible, so to speak.

When the supplies materialize in Bob's hand, he blinks, lifting an eyebrow. "Been 'olding out on me, 'ave yeh squire?" That being the sort of trick he would do, being a wizard and all. Although not generally when it came to sexual necessities.

"So then, got a preference for which tallywacker you're gonna put that on?" For his own part, John can just as happily plow or be plowed, managing to look accommodating in both respects.

If Bob looks pleased with himself it's because he is. When he'd first arrived, summoning things had been more hassle than it was worth. Stealing is something he's more than familiar with but it's a new one when he takes something without actually meaning to. So this? This is a victory, in his eyes.

Huffing out a laugh at John's questions, he decides quickly which one he's answering now and which one he's answering later. It's an easy decision given he's watching John stroke himself, gaze hungry and eyes flicking back up to John's face.

"Me? I'm a very giving person," he says with a slow, desire-fueled smile, dropping both the condom and the lube to the mattress at John's arse. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he pushes John's away and pins it against the mattress, grasps with his own as he stretches back out on top of the other man for another heated kiss.

"You mind?" he thinks to check when he next surfaces for air, his own preference for one-night stands placing him as the top. Not that he'd mind meeting up with this bloke again.

"Yeh know—I could tell that about you, right off the bat, back in the bar," John returns. He doesn't elaborate on what he'd thought that generosity might include, but from the smug look on his face, it wouldn't be too difficult to assume he's getting everything he'd hoped Bob might be inclined to give.

If he tried, John could probably work his wrist out of Bob's grasp even without any magical assistance, despite the other man having the advantage of him as far as muscular physique goes—but he doesn't especially mind being restrained, having a few kinks along those lines, although this is fairly tame in that respect compared to other instances in the past where his companion might've been a bit other than human.

Being prevented from stroking himself doesn't mean he can't find some pleasure another way, and he'll just arch his hips upward, rubbing up against the other man's body. "At the moment, I'm not minding a bloody thing," he replies, his voice getting a little throaty as his breath quickens.

"Is that right?" Bob asks, his own murmur low and his eyes catching on the other man's expression as hips rock up into his own. Yeah, he can appreciate that expression, wants to see more of it. With the lube and condom still somewhere on the mattress beneath him, he's hard-pressed to remove himself from the warmth of the other man's body. It's an effort, punctuated with an frustrated groan as he goes.

Even sat back up, resting back against the heels of his feet between John's legs, his grip on the other man tightens, slow, long, purposeful strokes a vague promise of what's to come.

But as reckless as he is in some things, he's really not with this. Momentarily releasing his grip of John with a cheeky smirk, his fingers pluck up the condom from the sheets and tear the foil open. Squeezing enough lube into it so it'll feel almost as good as if they were doing this without, he can't help the shakiness of his breath as he rolls it slowly onto himself.

His breath hitching now with every slow agonizing stroke, John doesn't do much more than moan, his eyes glazing over a little, and then groaning even more when it stops, his attention now intently focused on Bob as he prepares himself.

"Cheeky bugger," he murmurs, not that it's exactly a newsflash at this point. He brings his knees back up and pulls them towards his chest, his gaze becoming more heated as anticipation grows. "Don't be gentle, now," he says, smirking as well.

"Why, you looking for a new arsehole, mate?" Bob counters, his eyes snapping upwards to the other man's face as he smears lube over the condom. Dropping the tube out of the way, he edges forward, hands gripping John's thighs just above the backs of his knees to press his legs harder against his chest. His eyebrows are raised but he's not surprised, just wants the other man to read the challenge in his expression. If that's how John likes it then who's he to say no?

"Or maybe..." he starts to say, voice dropping into a heated murmur and gaze narrowing on John's face as he drops a hand between them to line himself up. "...maybe you just really want to remember this tomorrow when you try sitting the fuck down."

He doesn't move, doesn't press himself any further than existing as tight pressure against the other man because he's going to be that bloke. He wants to hear John ask for it - ask for him - again. And he never does something he's asked to the first time. That's just a bit too well-behaved.

"Well, you know that expression, tear somebody a new one? It's not necessarily a bad thing as far as I'm concerned." He might be joking, but there's a better than even chance he's not. John's got a few kinks, it must be said. "And sore memories 'ave a more lasting impression, yeah?"

Eyes locked on Bob's, he presses back as much as he can—which isn't much, considering how the other man's pushing against him, going so far as to squirm a little, trying to make that connection. "You gonna fuck me or what, eh? Or are you gonna just think about it for a while?"

Which would probably sound a bit pissier if he wasn't practically gasping with need.

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getting a bit NSFW here

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oops misread the previous tag a little bit

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