( closed )

[motivation]

Who: dutch (motivation) & various
What: dutch's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dayweek: alvis and johnny are both back in stasis and dutch is not happy. add a bomb and alcohol and you got yourself a log.
When: 1st october onward
Where: out and about in olympia (red light district, various other places possibly)
Warning(s): alcohol and sex used as coping mechanisms. violence.



[ if you'd like a starter, hit me up via pm, at the event plotting or on plurk at abiosis ]

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[motivation]

[ there's only so long that chasing criminals or those who're probably criminals can serve as a distraction. (dutch isn't too picky right now on whether they are or aren't. she's not even all that angry they detonated some bomb or that people are sick; she's too busy being angry that johnny and alvis aren't awake, aren't here, are gone even if they're not dead.)

by the time dutch shows up on eggsy's doorstep, she's still drunk but freshly showered and bandaged up from previous adventures. she's sharp-eyed, even if her gaze is a little wide around the edges, and instead of a greeting, she moves into his space and crowds him against the nearest wall, fitting her lips against his. this isn't the time for talking, all right, it's the time for shutting up and making her feel something that isn't anger or loss or all the things dutch doesn't have space for in her life, that she can't figure out and cope with without johnny by her side. ]

[tailorable]

[ with noticeable bedhead, eggsy opens his door in grey sweats, far more simple than his usual attire. see, he and dutch don't normally meet here 'cause this isn't just eggsy's place in the shite, refugee housing district. it's eggsy and harry's place: an area where eggsy doesn't need to call his mentor 'henry devere' or pretend he didn't start learning tailoring in the past fucking week. it's one bathroom that he and harry share, harry's paper on the coffee table, eggsy's hats strewn all over the living room, JB knocking about like he owns the place — not terribly fitting for dalliances, really.

but he doesn't think about all that when he spies her through the peephole and finds his cheeky greeting cut off by her lips on his. thankfully, his instincts do most of the work for him. hard not to notice the hint of alcohol in her mouth, a dull consideration at the back of his mind. he tangles fingers in her hair with one hand and drops the other to grip her hip, pulling her flush against him. getting crowded against the wall's a turn-on, yeah, but he wants as much contact as possible.

he nips at her bottom lip to pull away and slot his mouth against her neck. ]

Nice to see you, too.

[ absolutely amused and teasing. ]

[motivation]

[ the bedhead suits him. any other time, dutch might have teased him about it despite that, but any other time, she probably wouldn't have shown up out of the blue and drunk like this at an apartment she's never visited before, one that she knows he shares. any other time, dutch would have thought about what she's doing at least a little instead of only acting, mind addled by alcohol as much as it is by anger that masks a grief she knows is misplaced: johnny isn't dead, he's just in stasis, but whatever the reason, he's gone and dutch misses him.

she missed him while he was off dealing with pawter's loss, when he needed space, but she'd had d'avin and a war to fight then, she'd had a purpose and she'd had her friends. alvis is gone, too, and dutch knows how the war is going to end even if she hasn't seen it through yet: it's going to end with her killing aneela, with the two of them dying because if aneela goes, so does dutch.

so maybe dutch isn't thinking. maybe she's doing everything she can to avoid thinking. ]

Shut up. [ she tells him eloquently, a little more harshly than any other time, too. this isn't any other time, though. despite the tone and the alcohol on her tongue still, she slides against eggsy, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, and the hand she slides over his stomach is warm, firm but gentle. ]

[tailorable]

[ although she won't be able to see it, with his lips working over her throat, his brows shoot up. no, dutch isn't overly fond of his motor mouth, but he can't recall her saying shut up without a playful or dry lilt in her voice. the feel of her roaming hand makes him sigh into her neck. he very much enjoys being with her, despite the uncharacteristic harshness and hurried movements. ]

I will — [ which perhaps indicates that he won't. he squeezes her hip, fingers slipping under her shirt. ] — but we should take this to the station, love.

[ his steady tone suggests he won't be persuaded otherwise. see, he's already lying to harry and in mild trouble for his substandard tidiness. not to mention, he invited jean to stay with them, inviting further chaos into their lives (and one more person like to wander in on them). best not to be even more inconsiderate. ]

[motivation]

[ dutch is not usually harsh — oh, she always has the capacity for it, khlyen's seen to that, but she deliberately chooses against it, just as she chooses not to kill anymore unless it's necessary. those choices define who she is, who dutch is (instead of yalena, yala, khlyen's little bird).

right now, there's a little more of yalena in her tone and dutch is desperate for the distraction from it, from the cause of it. desperation makes good choices hard to come by. (she won't apologise, later. not in words.) ]

Yeah, fine.

[ so long as they can keep this going, so long as she can lose herself in the slide of their bodies together and the physicality of sex soon. she wants that, needs that. she arches into his touch, leaning up to nip at his jaw. ]

[tailorable]

Thank you.

[ because he is asking her for a favour, really, when she brought her gorgeous self straight to his doorstep. he kisses her hard in return, tongue pushing into her mouth as he arches off the wall, enjoying the friction of their easy slide together. yeah, he's fucking nuts for pausing this, even for a second.

a moment later, they're on the station, in one of the innocuous private rooms. joint teleportation (or whatever the fuck it is) means it's a crapshoot as to which one they ended up in today, but it isn't as if it matters. regardless, he tries to get the jump on her, crowding her against the wall this time, though he's well aware it won't last. she seems a bit — well, off her game. ]

[motivation]

[ she's off her game, but she's not so off her game that she couldn't have stopped him from crowding her against the wall or turning it around again. she's off her game enough to close her eyes and tip her head back and kiss him back without even a playful attempt at turning it around. she doesn't need to be in control right now (yalena was never in control; it's what made it so important to dutch to be). she just needs to be distracted, not to think, and she lets herself moan into his mouth, one hand sliding around him to curl over the curve of his arse, pulling him closer. he's distracting her, and so she doesn't need to fight for a moment. ]