That's the thought that keeps circling in his mind, even while he processes and responds to that. Breathplay, definite yes. All arousal. There's some fear with the arousal at the 'restraint' portion of things, but not any kind of real anxiety.
It's a turn on.
Yes, by all means take away his capacity to do anything else. Better yet, shut him down for a few hours with it all. He's actually got an erection, but mentally?
"Depends. Are you still theoretically pissing me off? 'Cause if you are, I may leave you there cold on your knees until you're ready to talk. And if that isn't your bag, I've got a cane with your name on it."
He pauses there, one hand slipping under Scott's shirt and fanning out over his broad back.
"You ever been caned on the bottom of your feet? That'll make anyone squeal like a pain pig. Forget their own name for sure."
He mirrors that move, hand spreading wide across Midnight's... chest, actually. Not pushing back or away just a point of contact.
"You win." He's interested, but more importantly he's got past the wall. "Rule one: No humiliation coming at me. From me is possible, but better be for a purpose and rare. Okay?"
He studies Mid for a moment in silence. He doesn't give much away but he's a little more relaxed and... trusts the guy just a little bit more. "Are you sure there are plenty of evil doers here?" That part is a joke.
Kind of.
What is Mid going to do if he runs out of 'bad guys'?
"Just take a stroll around the Down after midnighter. There's plenty of fodder," Midnighter assures. "Besides, I don't turn on my friends—well, unless you start killing kids or something. Just don't do that, and we're golden."
"Well, I was in jail for killing an old guy," he says, tone super dry. But, okay, point taken on the fodder.
Maybe surprisingly, Scott has no concerns about... anyone decent's safety with Mid. Or his own safety with him, even though he doesn't consider himself decent.
With a nod, and a little regret pulling away, Midnighter picks the collar and remote up from the bed. It immediately goes into the plastic bin with the rest of Jamie's sex toys. A shame Scott doesn't want to use it on him, but there are those who will, he's sure of it.
"Next?" He slides his arms back around Scott like the smoothest criminal.
He drops his hands on Mid's waist but doesn't hold on or anything of the sort. He's relieved the collar is out of sight, and okay fine, they can do electroplay, but he's not interested in doing it with that particular piece of memorabilia. Find someone else to use it maybe.
"Oh. We were negotiating sex, weren't we?" He remembers. "Are we talking about me hurting you or me being hurt?"
"Me hurting you. Any other rules you got? Because god knows I have none." And unless Scott has been hiding a pair of adamantium claws from him all this time, it's not likely he can do enough damage to make it worth it for Midnighter.
Scott lifts his eyebrows at the unspoken and decides he's gonna leave out the finer details of how that concussive force can be used, when a visor's involved to change the angle, width, height, and duration of the beam.
Maybe as a little treat, later.
"Dislocation's fine, blood is fine. Anything that requires stitches stays off my chest and stomach. Larger scarring marks are going to require permission. Nothing X-shaped. Nothing that is going to put me out of commission for more than a couple of hours." Stitches won't, dislocation won't. Broken bones and disembowelment are a hard no. That kind of thing.
Ding, ding, ding. He lets out a pleased hum as Scott's legs are nudged wider to let him get just a little closer.
"This gives me a lot to work with—no humiliation, no big scarring unless we talk about it. Keep the front looking good. Got it. And you've got no accelerate healing, correct?" he asks.
"I do not. The boundaries I laid down compensate for that. Now, I'm going to assume you have no rules based on what I've seen of you, but I'm going to need you to invent a couple for me."
You function like a regular ol' psychopath with no feelings. Duh.
"Okay. Uhm, no crackers in the bed. We have to spoon or cuddle after sex," he offers poorly. What is he supposed to say? He's let another man break his arm as the guy came all over him.
"I can live with those." Which... Honestly, good enough and he likes the demand to cuddle. Probably. It says things about Midnighter, anyway, even if he thinks he's being silly
"Good." He touches his nose to Scott's, breathing in his smell and chemical balance. The last of the dopamine hits still linger in his blood from Midnighter's descriptive threats.
He quirks a smile that's actually very... sweet for all that it's slight. "I get to call all the shots, stay in control and get hurt? You just hit the top of my list, darling."
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That's the thought that keeps circling in his mind, even while he processes and responds to that. Breathplay, definite yes. All arousal. There's some fear with the arousal at the 'restraint' portion of things, but not any kind of real anxiety.
It's a turn on.
Yes, by all means take away his capacity to do anything else. Better yet, shut him down for a few hours with it all. He's actually got an erection, but mentally?
Still on' I've got to help'.
"You going to sleep with me after?"
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He pauses there, one hand slipping under Scott's shirt and fanning out over his broad back.
"You ever been caned on the bottom of your feet? That'll make anyone squeal like a pain pig. Forget their own name for sure."
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"You win." He's interested, but more importantly he's got past the wall. "Rule one: No humiliation coming at me. From me is possible, but better be for a purpose and rare. Okay?"
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Kind of.
What is Mid going to do if he runs out of 'bad guys'?
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Maybe surprisingly, Scott has no concerns about... anyone decent's safety with Mid. Or his own safety with him, even though he doesn't consider himself decent.
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"Anything else?"
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Bad boys, good boys, boy boys. Sure. Sex, Mid. You like sex.
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"Next?" He slides his arms back around Scott like the smoothest criminal.
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That he keeps collecting for some reason.
That he would deny.
He drops his hands on Mid's waist but doesn't hold on or anything of the sort. He's relieved the collar is out of sight, and okay fine, they can do electroplay, but he's not interested in doing it with that particular piece of memorabilia. Find someone else to use it maybe.
"Oh. We were negotiating sex, weren't we?" He remembers. "Are we talking about me hurting you or me being hurt?"
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"Me hurting you. Any other rules you got? Because god knows I have none." And unless Scott has been hiding a pair of adamantium claws from him all this time, it's not likely he can do enough damage to make it worth it for Midnighter.
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Maybe as a little treat, later.
"Dislocation's fine, blood is fine. Anything that requires stitches stays off my chest and stomach. Larger scarring marks are going to require permission. Nothing X-shaped. Nothing that is going to put me out of commission for more than a couple of hours." Stitches won't, dislocation won't. Broken bones and disembowelment are a hard no. That kind of thing.
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"This gives me a lot to work with—no humiliation, no big scarring unless we talk about it. Keep the front looking good. Got it. And you've got no accelerate healing, correct?" he asks.
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Because... how else do you function?
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"Okay. Uhm, no crackers in the bed. We have to spoon or cuddle after sex," he offers poorly. What is he supposed to say? He's let another man break his arm as the guy came all over him.
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"Any time you'd like a scene, just let me know."
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"Yeah, well," Midnighter doesn't bother hiding his arrogance. Of course he hits the top of Scott's list. He expected no less. "I play to win."