caden is a man who likes control.

[break][break] like a snake, he coils around his prey with the ease and comfort of one who has done so many times before. but perhaps this is more of an example of how far he's fallen, that he doesn't realize how much something else has coiled around him.

[break][break] in the darkness of the bar, he presses himself closer to the ruddy redhead crouched beneath his touch. he lets him fall into desire and heat, hand slotted dangerously against their inner thigh, pressing closer still.

[break][break] nearly devoured by want, caden doesn't realize it until the other speaks. suddenly, he is staring into amber-bright eyes, the curve of a smile that looks suddenly nothing like the mouse that he had thought he'd trapped.

[break][break] 'you have no idea what i am.'

[break][break] his gaze darkens.

[break][break] "i don't?" caden says huskily, hand sliding through the other's hair and tugging lightly to expose a pale neck. licking a stripe up his neck, his teeth grazes dangerously against his adam's apple. his other hand slipping beneath a shirt to splay a hand against his abdomen. his breath labors against the shell of emerson whitlock's ear

[break][break] "why don't you show me then, sweetheart?"

[break]

[attr="class","ooc"] emerson whitlock [break]
the ritual [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-munna"]

With DAMIEN RUSSO's help, his buckle comes loose and with it, the rest of his pants. Caden reaches for the other man, only flinching lightly as the knuckles run across his bruises.

[break][break] "No. Not my family."

[break][break] Unlike many other Rockets, Caden had never considered Rocket his family. It was his obligation, his family heirloom that he'd tried to ignore to the best of his ability. But he wasn't a coward, he wasn't a runner — not the way his brothers were.

[break][break] Reaching for Damien's belt buckle too, Caden reached for him. He tugged him closer, pressing them together, just as his teeth grazed against the man's sharp jaw.

[break][break] "You sure you want to talk about family at a time like this?" he murmured.

[break]

[attr="class","ooc"] DAMIEN RUSSO [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-munna"]

there is something heady and intoxicating in the dark corner of the bar. murmurs of conversation echo around them, the sound of clinking glass, and the amber glow of the bar's hanging low-lights reflect in caden's eyes as he lowers himself down.

[break][break] their lips brush, his eyes focused on the other. inviting, teasing, daring.

[break][break] and then just like that - emerson whitlock falls. hook, line and sinker.

[break][break] they kiss him with the flustered sort of virgin kiss that he'd come to expect — drunk and sloppy and eager to fulfill all of caden's wants and needs. it stirs a fire within his gut, the sort of heat that curls when caden thinks about someone bending and breaking to his will. the sort of power and lust that his life had sorely been lacking as of late.

[break][break] for a second, caden gets pulled into the wave. but then, he stops. he pulls back, not all the way, and curls his hand against their shoulder. "careful," he says, and then kisses them back — but slower, steadier. caden is careful to control the pace of this, even if he'd been so demanding before.

[break][break] a smile curves against their mouth.

[break][break] "you're needy, huh?"

[attr="class","ooc"] emerson whitlock [break]
the ritual [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-munna"]

normally, the name of the game is discretion. normally, caden has things to worry about — his job, his title, his position. however, he no longer works at lilycove general hospital, and all the responsibilities he currently has would probably not give a damn that he was currently coaxing this cute redhead in this bar booth.

[break][break] or maybe, caden's thoughts are just that far-gone. maybe the ritual's alcohol is much better than originally anticipated.

[break][break] or maybe it is emerson that makes the difference. that makes him want to do something more, something risky.

[break][break] the brush of lips against his casts a thrill, heat curling invitingly in his gut. but it is not yet satisfaction.

[break][break] his hand slides down lower, and then maybe lower still, sliding dangerously against their inner thigh.

[break][break] "i am," he rumbles. "do you have a problem with that?"

[break][break] once more, onyx eyes settle onto ruddy amber.

[break][break] "do you want me to stop?"

[break]

[attr="class","ooc"] emerson whitlock [break]
the ritual [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-munna"]

caden is smart, wickedly so. there are many things he can do that are a talent, and many things his time could be spent better with. there are responsibilities he has, even in this lackluster version of a life that his brother has forced him into.

[break][break] but that night, his heart lulled with liquor and his interests in all other things waned, the only thing that he seems keen on is finding out more ways to make emerson whitlock squirm.

[break][break] and he's not afraid to make that known.

[break][break] the redhead tilts towards him, and the seductive smirk the doctor wears grows in turn. his hand continues moving then, slowly, down the curve of the other's inner thigh. he leans in.

[break][break] "ah," he murmurs huskily. "what can i say? i'm good at reading people."

[break][break] caden leans in close, until his breath is enough to overlap.

[break][break] "emerson."

[break][break] a hand leans over, his body hunched over the other's shadow, so no one can see what they are up to.

[break][break] "kiss me."

[break]

[attr="class","ooc"] emerson whitlock [break]
the ritual [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-munna"]

there is something sharp in caden's eyes, like a snake closing in on a mouse, when emerson whitlock reveals his secrets.

[break][break] never complimented before? not good at taking compliments?

[break][break] how perfect.

[break][break] "what a shame," he says, head angling towards the other in the booth. "you're someone who deserves compliments, emerson."

[break][break] his hand stays warm against the redhead's thigh, not quite yet reaching for something yet. his body does angles towards him though, his eyes never leaving the other's face. one of his knees bumps against theirs, interest flickering in that dark gaze of his alongside something else.

[break][break] something like heat.

[break][break] "you're good to look at," he murmurs. "and i think you'd be good at more. don't you?"

[break]

[attr="class","ooc"] emerson whitlock [break]
the ritual [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-munna"]