Save A Horse...

The cowboy moved quickly and quietly through the lobby of the Siege Tower; this tall, imposing beast of steel, reinforced concrete, and curtains of polished stone that held a den of debauchery and sin in its stomach.  What was the Executioner of Pandemonium doing here?  Even he was not entirely certain, but, no matter the task, he did not wish to tarry.  The spurs on his boots clicked and clacked against the shining marble floor and he hoped the long duster he wore would provide a modicum of obscurity.  He kept his eyes on the floor as he awaited the elevator and, thankfully, he was alone save for the secretary--a secretary smart enough to mind her own business and pretend not to see Dallas.  Smart gal...

The doors opened and he entered the enclosed space of the elevator, two fingers pushed the button for his desired floor.  Sixty-nine...hah!  The perverted nature of the owner was over the top; he really let his freak flag fly.  Sex, drugs, and sin in the conventional forms were of little consequence to the cowboy these days.  If it were up to him he would be at home perfectly content with his silence and solitude.  Silence and solitude--no doubt he would find little of that here.

The twin doors of the elevator parted before him and he was greeted by the cloying, lascivious scent of beastly indulgence.  Ugh.  He made sure his hat was tilted sufficiently far forward to deter conversation and he made his way to the bar.  "Shots 'o top shelf whiskey.  Keep 'em comin'."  The words had left his mouth before he even took his seat and Dallas was pleasantly surprised to find a double shot set before him by the time his rump found its resting place.  His head tilted back as he downed the golden brown ichor; the sting lit a fire in his belly and reached the deepest depths of his bones.  "Damned fine whiskey..."  He muttered to himself as he instinctively reached for his next shot, which, of course, was already waiting for him.

Maybe this wasn't so different from home after all...

Last edited by Dallas Au Sheppard on Wed Nov 23, 2016 12:53 am; edited 1 time in total

For lack of better terms one would normally use, the man with the shaggy black hair in the corner of the room was bored. He was avoiding looking at the man seated next to him. That mess of white and red hair was tugged back into a ponytail tonight. He seemed to be riding a high right now, laughing and slapping at his arm. He was sure there were joking being told, but the raven just didn’t feel like paying attention to him right now. He’d been here for hours already, he wasn’t sure how many. He had been paying for Atticus’s drug habit and his own drinks all night. He’d been debating on whether or not he should leave soon. No one here was even remotely interesting to him. The man next to him had promised tonight was just for fun, no one had to die or anything like that. Just for fun. But what did that even mean?

“Stay here, I need to make sure our tab is clear.” Mumbled the shaggy haired raven as he moved out of the booth. He stretched a little bit as he’d been sitting there for a while. His companion waved him off and went back to doing whatever it was he had occupied himself with. He shook his head and began to walk towards the bar. Admittedly, the bartender was cute enough. They weren’t blond, but he would consider at least fucking them. He had made it about halfway to the bar when something caught his eye. Someone. He saw someone. Wasn’t sure who, didn’t really care who. He just saw that flash of yellow colored hair and immediately diverted his travel destination.



“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Mused the man as he shifted to sit down next to the man in the cowboy hat. He did his best to offer a smile, trying to act as natural as possible."Which is easier? You getting into those tight jeans or me getting you out of them?" Out of all the pick up lines in the entire world, that was the one that Sebastian chose? Could have been worse, but it also could have been better. But hey, had to start somewhere, didn’t he?

Dallas kept drinking and the establishment didn't seem to be running out of whiskey--there IS a God after all.  He was about to enter the double digits (or had he already?) when he felt a presence at his side; some words dribbled out of the creature's mouth.  Dallas' eyes narrowed as he took a sideways glance at his newest companion and he visibly flinched.  His jawline hardened and he blinked hard a few times as he tried to make sure he was seeing correctly.  What was he doing here?

"Fenrir, hmph?"  The cowboy shook his head from side to side in disbelief.  The initial shock faded from his features and he turned the majority of his attention back to the alcohol being supplied to him.  "Did nah expect tah see you round this fuck hole."  Of course, Dallas recognized Sebastion for he was a Pack Leader of House Pandemonium.  He'd never talked to the man for his role never really required him to do so, but he'd watched him enough from afar.  Hair darker than night and a lean form did not make much of an impression, but his eyes sometimes held a thousand promises of violence that shook even the toughest, roughest of men to the core.

As he takes hold of a shot, almost as an afterthought, Dallas slides the drink over to Sebastion.  "If we goin' tah talk like that then you might as well buy me a few  more drinks, I reckon."  One corner of his mouth pulled upwards as he flashed his crooked smile towards Sebastion, revealing a set of bright, white teeth.  Would he end up in bed with Sebastion?  Probably not.  Could he get a few free drinks off him?  Certainly.

Still, the Texan knew he had to play his cards right here...  He did not wish to anger such a strong member of his House if he did not need to do so.  While Dallas was not opposed to fights, he liked to know he was going to win.  The cowboy tipped his hat towards the Lion with that same crooked smile on his face before he downed yet another shot of whiskey.

He was going to need a lot more of those...

It took Sebastian several moments (perhaps more) longer than it should have to register what this man was replying back to him with. Being as high (and drunk) as he was, he wasn’t exactly in the state of mind to remember names and faces. All he’d really expected was an answer to his question. What he got instead was . . . Come again? Take it slow. What exactly was it that he heard? His eyes narrowed a little bit, wasn’t that his rank? Fenrir. Yeah, that was his rank. But who was this? Why did they know him? He hadn’t seen them a day before in his li- . . .

“Oh, good. Isn’t this one of your bitches?” Atticus’s voice filtered in through his ears. He must have taken too long to get back to him and he came looking. Not that it would have taken a search party to find him, he was a little hard to miss sitting there. He waved his companion off, fixating back onto the blond that he was seated next to. Now, what else was it that he had been saying to him? Something about not expecting him to be here? Where . . . Where was he supposed to be expected to be exactly?

“Eh, I just come here from time to time to relax.” He shrugged a little bit, looking back at the bar. He was going to have to rethink his approach here, wasn’t he? “I’ve never noticed you here before though. What would bring a guy like you to a place like this?” Judging by what he could be seen drinking, the answer was obviously loosely related to booze. Maybe he was here for the entertainment, too? The drugs? Pleasure? Pain? What would The Executioner want from a place like this? He sort of just shifted in his seat, half facing the other as he listened to what else he had to say to him.

The question was, did Sebastian have enough currency to pay for more drinks? Aka, did the owner of this fine establishment care to take more of the ‘trophies’ he had acquired? He’d have to ask that later, right now he had to buy this one a few drinks. Maybe then he would get the answer he was seeking. He noticed a shot had been slided over to him and he took it out of respect, slamming it back before slamming the empty down on the hardened wood in front of him.

“Sure, I don’t see why not. I suppose actions speak louder than words ever will.” He motioned for the bartender to come over, pour some more shots out under his tab, saying something about wanting to talk to Dauth later. He never specified how much later, but then again, it wouldn’t have mattered too much to him regardless. Atticus seemed to busy himself with . . . Something. He knew the man was still there, he just wasn’t talking. Didn’t even bother to turn and look at him. The blond had most of his focus for the time being.


“We’ll just see which one is easier by the end of the night.”

A sideways haze began to creep into Dallas' vision and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to retain a grasp on reality.  He took the momentary darkness to steady his equilibrium; Sebastion's voice managed to reach him through the liquor.  "Eh?  Lookin' for information, Pack Leader.  I heard a body could find out a great deal if'n they came round here."  Fortunately for the Lion, Dallas still had a firm grasp on his words and the message was fairly intelligible.  

This place was so discordant, so wild and it reminded Dallas of some of the farms he had worked on when he was young.  The people around this place had lowered themselves into a basin full of primal urges; a call was made for indulgence and Floor 69 of the Siege Tower answered...emphatically.  A heat began to form in his stomach as the alcohol began to settle and that pleasant warmth moved downwards at a careful, calculated pace.  It had been awhile since he had this much to drink so fast...

He had maintained control for so long, he had prevented anyone or anything from disrupting his status quo.  His goal in life?  Find who or what had murdered his family--let nothing stand in his way.  This mentality is what rocketed him through the ranks of Pandemonium.  His casual hobby of sharp shooting took on a deadly edge as he used it on human beings instead of targets; hands called by honest work had now been used to wring the life from a person's neck.

The cowboy pushed a golden lock of hair that had strayed downwards back up underneath his hat.  Mayhaps he needed to relax a little?  Perhaps this was the true reason he had come to this place of unashamed satisfaction, of reckless consent to one's wants, one's needs.  Meh.

Dallas downed another shot and, following Sebastion's lead, slammed it down onto the bar as well.  Thin lips parted as he revealed his bright whites once more, "How's a body get a private room in this place?"  One way or another... the cowboy would get his answer.  What was he doing here?

Was it weird that he was more than willing to just sit there and listen to the man talk more than anything? Sure, he would have liked for there to have been more, but listening to the sound waves vibrate through the bones in his ears was quite the pleasing sound and that’s something that he found pleasurable. This in mind, it’s probably why the man hadn’t answered the question yet. He was too busy staring at the face and imagining the lips moving and making all kinds of sounds and . . . “Hey, you gonna answer the question or just gonna sit there and stare like a twat?” Atticus made sure to poke and prod him for a moment before the man shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“A body could find plenty of things here if he looked around hard and long enough.” Pun related? Perhaps. He swirled the shot around in the glass for a moment, debating if he should drink it. He had so much to drink already. He shrugged to himself and downed the shot and slammed the glass down on the table. He had half a mind to order another one, but could he really stomach it? He was feeling pretty good as it was, didn't want to ruin it. So he declined a refill and sort of just sat there, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments.

While he would have liked to have done something with this one, if only because he was blond, would he even be agreeable? One night stand. He could work with that. Or he could work with just meeting up with him here every now and then and drinking and talking. Though, wouldn’t that get Atticus’s attention? The man seemed to want to screw things up with almost everything he did, why wouldn’t he want to try and screw up another relationship? That was part of the reason that he was here in the first place. Atticus could drink and get high to his heart's content and the pack leader himself could just mindlessly fuck whoever he wanted and relieve some stress and not really care all that much.

He’d made a move to open his mouth, make a suggestion to something or another, but he quieted himself when he noticed that the man had moved a lock of that golden hair. What was he doing? He was smiling a little bit, that had to be a good sign, right? God, he hoped that was a good sign. Or maybe he was just being polite to reject him. That would . . . That would work for him, too, he supposed. Be a bit peeved, but oh well.


“What a coincidence, I know exactly how to get a private room here.” He smiled just a little bit, leaning over the counter and casually mentioning to the bartender that he wanted some more of the cowboy’s whiskey delivered to his favorite room. The bartender nodded and seemed to go get that started and set up for him. “Now we just give that a few moments and we’ll be all set.”

Perhaps it was the whiskey, but Dallas' eyes seem to find a newly sparked interest in the dark-haired man next to him.  Had his hair always looked so soft?  So... grabbable.  What smooth, sensual surprises lurked underneath that innocent white shirt?  Those tight, faded jeans that hugged a pair of slim hips.  The cowboy's knuckles whitened as he gripped the shot glass he held in his hand tightly and he could feel more than the alcohol beginning to stir in his body.  

A small gasp slipped from his mouth as he released the glass--fear of shattering the thing becoming a very real potential and he stood abruptly.  What was coming over him?  A slight rush of blood into his cheeks caused a faint red blush to appear and he tilted his hat forward in an effort to hide his embarrassment.  An attendant of some sort, one that wore a surprising amount of clothing, came to them and silently gestured towards their requested room.  Glad for the distraction, Dallas willingly followed the person to a non-descript door and he found himself entering an even more nondescript room.

Darkness aided in masking any flaws with the area though Dallas would have hardly cared if any existed.  He assumed the only other door led to a bathroom--just in the case that things got messy or, well, for normal bathroom purposes.  One hand pulls the black Stetson from his head and carefully, almost reverently, places the beloved article onto a nightstand near the bed.  At the same time his other hand, fingers adroit and precise, undo the belt around his waist and lays it beside the hat.

His vision is only mildly blurred as he begins the long walk towards Sebastion and a predatory smile finds its way onto his lips.  A budding, blossoming heat begins in his nether regions and it rises through his body; it makes him feel as though he's walking on clouds and his feet verily float across the floor.  Firm hands reach for Sebastion's slender hips, seek to pull him close so he can whisper his next words...

Dallas doesn't even know what he says--the words don't matter.  What does matter are his teeth nipping and tugging with playful intent at the raven-haired man's ear; what does matter is the urgency in his hands as they fumble with denim.  What even matters besides the two of them, anyways?

At this point Atticus had noticed what his companion and the potential fling were doing and he began to pay very close attention. Normally, he might not have cared they were taking someone to a back room, but this one had his attention. Must have been the fact he had blond hair. That’s probably the only reason he was watching them now. This was going to be an interesting night for all involved after all, wasn’t it? He found himself smirking, chuckling. He couldn’t wait to see if he needed to get ‘involved’. Meanwhile though, the raven haired man was trying to figure out just how far he was going to be allowed to go. He wasn’t really all that knowledgeable about this man despite being in the same House. It's not like they had any reason to associate so this was . . . This was going to be a learning experience.

The usual attendant who brought him to his room was here and he was smiling a little bit. He managed to make it to the room fairly easily despite how his body seemed to think a straight line was swaying from side to side. He waited for the attendant to leave, closing the door while after he was sure that Dallas was in the room. Normally he would have been taking his shirt off by now, throwing it somewhere in the room and shifting to devour the eye candy on the bed. But this time was different, he found himself awkwardly standing there and watching as the other’s hat and gun belt came off. His drug addled brain wasn’t sure why those were coming off right away, but he supposed those would make their coming activities hard, wouldn’t it?

It took a moment or two for his eyes to focus as the man began to get closer to him. What he noticed first was the smile. How many times had he smiled like that himself in this situation? He had a feeling things were going to get interesting and he was right. The way those hands reached out for him, the strength that he could feel against his hips sent something of a shiver up his spine. He gave a sharp inhale as hot breath collided with his ear, something beginning to stir below the belt. He felt himself shift just a little bit, his back colliding with the wall. His own arms reached upwards, wrapping around the man’s shoulders. For effect to the ear nibbles, he let out a noise akin to a moan, hoping that would coax out more actions.

Atticus had taken up residence in a chair, watching the scene unfold before him. He rolled his eyes slightly, why did that bastard always seem to play such a submissive role? Sure, he’d seen the man dominate, but it was just the way he went about things that really bugged him. He had half a mind to show him how to really get things done, but for now he’d just watch. Maybe he’d be pleasantly surprised by the time the action started. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Oh well. He’d just hang back and wait and see.


The raven shifted just a bit, moving his lips high enough to whisper his own few words in the other’s ear. “Allow me to get things started off,” He shifted himself just enough to put a small space between them, enough for him to slip downwards. “All you have to do is say when and we can . . . Change it up.” And with that he began to move down the other’s body, trailing kisses down the other’s jaw line and over the clothed chest, pausing at the waist. Mm, he had to deal with these first, didn’t he?

Twelve inches of blued steel, a grip made of fine walnut, and six vitally important screws that held together the backstrap, trigger guard, and the frame.  His .45 long colt was truly his most treasured possession and undoubtedly the finest thing he had ever handled.  The sharp crack of a firework was almost distracting enough to pull his eyes away from the beauty that was his gun, but not quite--it was his birthday after all and this was, hands down, his favorite gift.


"Course you round here when all your friends are outside celebrating!  Boy, you sure are all work and no play, Cowboy."  Dallas didn't even need to look up to recognize the light, lilting southern drawl of his high school sweetheart.  He did not even give her a vocal response; the crooked, half-smile that had half the female population of the town weak at the knees was all she received.  The reason he was down in the garage with his toys should have been obvious.  He had received his gifts, spent time with the family and now it was time for him to enjoy himself!  It was his birthday after all.  Besides, all the adults just saw it as an excuse to commiserate and drink and all his other friends were likely just as busy TRYING to get drinks.  


His attention was forced away from his prize as he felt a soft, comfortable tush descend onto his lap.  "Ground control to Major Tom do you copy?"  With a slight roll of his eyes, he reluctantly let the Colt out of his grasp as he set it on the workbench.  "May I do you a service, missy?"  He drawled back as he let his hands come to rest on the curves of her waist.


"I haven't had a chance to give you yer present!"  


Dallas couldn't help but raise a skeptical eyebrow in response.  A present?  Hadn't she performed the obligatory--oh.  That kind of present...  Feminine hips began to weave back and forth and her movements forced a startled gasp from the cowboy's lips.  A hard lump appeared in his throat, preventing any words from coming out and an even harder lump cropped up in his pants.  A devilish twinkle entered the girl's eyes as she slid off his lap and down onto her knees in one fluid motion.

Happy birthday indeed.

- - -

A sensuous sound slithered seductively into his ears, slathered in salacious, sinful succulence that threatened to tip the cowboy over the edge of sexual depravity brought him immediately back into the present.  The Raven pulled away just before his teeth could come down harder on his soft, supple skin and, undoubtedly, draw blood.  Dallas found himself short of breath and his facial muscles had slackened just a touch; his mouth hung open hungrily--my, he was actually panting a bit.  The alcohol had sufficiently infected one head, but the other was fully functioning and it demonstrated this with a burgeoning effect that was, well, quite obvious.  The trail of kisses along his jaw left his skin charged and tingling.  The muscles in his abdomen flexed and relaxed in a flare of activity as he just about ripped the buttons from his shirt.  All this clothing was just getting in the god damn way.

Dallas' trademark crooked smile returned as he undid only the button of his jeans.

Happy birthday?  Hah.  Except it wasn't.  That's what made this so enjoyable.

So far, the raven hadn’t heard the man say no. Hadn’t been pushed away, wasn’t hearing the man tell him this was disgusting. All things that would have both upset Sebastian and forced Atticus to come out and play. So this was nice. He got himself comfortable on his knees, hands reaching up to undo the button on the man’s pants. However, they paused, instead reaching for his thighs and staring at the other’s hands. He tilted his head, watching the cowboy undo the button for him. Fair enough. He ran his hands up and down the outer thighs of the clothed legs, leaning in just a little bit when the coast was clear. Honestly, he might have been better off using his hands for this seeing as how he was inebriated, but at the same time, wasn’t it more erotic to do things this way? Yeah, he had a feeling that it might be.

He shifted just a little bit, trying his hardest to focus on finding the zipper. A moment later and he had the small piece of metal between his teeth. This was going to be a bit harder intoxicated than it would have been sober, but he managed to keep it from slipping out of his mouth. The thin strip of cool metallic fell from his mouth and he was more easily allowed to see what the denim was hiding. For a second, he was amused the man was wearing underwear. He didn’t seem the type, but then again, demin chaffed like a madman, didn’t it? He made a move to lean in just a bit more, used his hands to tug the other closer, rubbing the side of his face against the bulge that he noticed was there. Mm, he found himself wondering how big it was, what it might taste like.

Atticus was, to say the least, somewhat disgusted. Had that been him as opposed to the raven, he would have had this man on the bed, making him scream. Now, the method of screaming would have been debatable, but there would have been screaming nonetheless. Although, this one looked like he was capable of defending himself. Those were guns on the nightstand. He leaned back just a little bit more, scratching at his chin. Perhaps it was a better idea to just let Sebastian handle this one. He’d continue to observe and watch from afar for now.

After giving the man a little bit of attention through his underwear, the male on his knees shifted himself up just a little bit, gripping the waistband in between his teeth now. He made sure to tug the material down just enough to expose the treat that he was looking for. Now, there were several ways that he could handle this. It was just a matter of picking which one. He shifted again, moving to wrap his arms around the other’s waist. He stuck out his tongue and pressed it against the underside of the throbbing erection, trailing the appendage up the length all the way to the tip. He then trailed his tongue all the way back down to the bottom before bringing it back up. This time he shifted again, licking over the tip with his tongue, teasing at the slit for a couple seconds. He planted a small kiss afterwards, glancing up at the man to gauge his reaction before deciding to just go ahead and take the entire head into his mouth.

Satisfaction coursed through his veins as he watched the Raven seductively go about unzipping his jeans--no doubt there would be many more erotic things done with that mouth of his.  Dallas' manhood pulsed and throbbed as contact was made and his abdominal muscles went into a fit after each touch.  Capable hands balled into fists and his knuckles whitened as desire throbbed through his entire body; a desire which he was desperately trying to keep from consuming all of his actions.  Pleasure seemed to bring about clarity, but just as quickly the alcohol reemerged and took over...

- - -

Her shirt had come off and supplied quite a beautiful sight as she worked his shaft, that feminine little mouth doing its best to handle his manhood.  A surprisingly expert tongue applied pressure where he was most sensitive and her moans were bringing him dangerously close to his limit.  His hips unconsciously began to rock into her, driving himself deeper and deeper until she began to gag, but his hands had wrapped into her hair and he held the position for a moment.  He wasn't allowing her to pull away immediately.  No, he was going to enjoy the way her eyes bulged with a slight amount of panic as she realized that she could no longer breathe.  He was going to enjoy the feel of her throat spasming lightly around himself...


He was going to enjoy this moment.

- - -

Dallas found his fingers intertwining with the dark, dark hair of Sebastion and his body rocking forwards of its own accord.  Man... woman... it didn't really matter right now.  He was feeling good and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.  Sebastion's hair was surprisingly soft, his mouth refreshingly warm and his tongue was, to put it bluntly, was absolutely destroying him.  His balls began to tighten and his fingers turned to steel in the Raven's black hair.

Good god, he was going to enjoy this moment.

Was it the hands in his hair that hinted at what was to come? Or perhaps was it the fact he could feel the other’s body moving? Or maybe he had just done this enough times to know what hints to pick up at what moments to figure out what was expected of him while he was done here. He had planned on taking his time, going slow and getting the man worked up. While the pack leader was hoping to get a bit more out of this, he was well aware that oral was just something easy to do. Something that could be easily played off. There wasn’t any real need for intimacy and if this was all it was, well . . . He’d be disappointed, but at least he’d gotten to have a little bit of fun while it lasted. And if he was lucky, he’d get to remember it.

Atticus audibly gagged in the corner of the room, giving it his best effort to show off how unamused he was with the way things were going. He could do this so much better! Why wasn’t Sebastian letting him come out to play? Just once . . . Atticus could behave, he knew he could. He wasn’t always violent. Or so he would like to tell the other, try and persuade him. But he didn’t think that he would be winning tonight. He would hold out hope just in case, however.


He had to force his throat to relax as throbbing appendage slid further into his mouth, his tongue doing its best to wet it as it went. It was going well enough, but he would have liked a bit more build up. He shifted just a bit on his knees again, making sure he had taken every last bit of the pulsating organ. Now the question was, should he just leave it there like that so the man could basically fuck his throat or should he shift a bit and move on his own? There were so many options that he could take here. So he just opted for one of the ones that would be easiest. He let his throat do most of the work, the muscles working the member as his tongue did its best to slather the rest of the flesh. For an added effect, he made sure to give something of a moan up to the man, sending some sweet vibrations up along the length.

Dallas let out a moan of pure ecstasy as he felt Sebastion's throat relax and accept his manhood.  Hands more used to fighting or handling his guns now held Sebastion's head in place as he used that soft, warm mouth as his personal fuck hole.  The lewd noises that rolled out of Sebastion and himself made a bestial, primal harmonization and the sound that came out of the cowboy's mouth was more a roar than anything else.

Hips bucked wildly with the last remnants of his resolve and he felt the rush of hot, thick semen burst out of him.  The drunken fog had been temporarily lifted as a rush of feel-good hormones coursed through his body and it was a rather simple matter to zip himself back up, put his belt back on, and replace his signature black hat atop his head.

"That wasn't so bad, after all.  Mayhaps we try it the other way around next time, partner."

The cowboy made for the door without a look, or a thought, backward.

- - -

The night air was brisk, but that did not bother him in the least.  Actually, he rather preferred this stark chill as opposed to some sticky heat that humped at your leg.  He didn't think about the past often, he preferred to do something and move on, but this warranted at least a little thought.  He'd fucked a man--well, he'd fucked a man's mouth.  The cowboy shook his head back and forth much like a horse shaking away the bite of some annoying flies.  No, no... no need to overthink this sort of thing.  A man needed time for business and time for pleasure.  Dallas had discovered a place to spend the latter.

It was a good thing that the raven hadn't planned on pulling back despite the fact it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Sure, he was doing a decent enough job with that through his nose, but . . . Well, at least he had enough air in his lungs to force some of it out to make those sweet vibrations, right? He'd tasted the precum awhile ago, had been trying to count down in his head until he would feel the floodgates open up and then . . . His thoughts trailed off as a rush of warm fluid started to cascade its way down his throat. He did give a small cough, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand as the other had pulled back.

He'd be honest, he wasn't really sure what he'd expected to happen after that. Being alone in the room with his own sort of problem being neglected hadn't been a thought that had come up. He'd watched the man dress himself back up, he knew he'd replied back to him, had definitely agreed to do something like this again. He turned his head to say something, but noticed that he hadn't even been worth a glance backwards. Huh. That was not something that he was used to.

Which is why Atticus couldn't decide what he was more disgusted with; the fact they'd just been abandoned after an appetizer or the look on the high idiot's face. God, why did he have to look so pitiful? Was, was he about to cry? Ugh. And the lesser members of his house actually thought he was scary? Pfft. Atticus was the scary one, if only they knew. He sighed and shifted a bit, getting out of his chair and walking over to the man on the ground.

"Hey, maybe next time we'll get lucky." He mused, helping his companion to his feet. "Let's get one last drink for the road then we can go home and you can sleep this off and go back to gutting people. How does that sound?" He got a nod in return, "That's my boy! Come on, Sebbaby, let's go." There had been more than enough time for the cowboy to have left by the time they exited the room. A brief stop at the bar for a to-go drink, and the pair made it in home with enough time for Atticus to have his own sort of fun before sunrise.