[M] Fake it till you make it

These buildings, these streets, even that air, it was all so familiar. So familiar he wanted nothing more than to burn it down so he never had to see or smell it again. A big bonfire to dance around was exactly the reason Ishir was here, in the Upper Ring of Alderrath, but he’d have to be patient before he could reveal his master plan. Burning wasn’t enough; they had to suffer first. And so he continued into the city, unknowingly following a path he’d walked countless times, until he stopped before the building that still haunted his nightmares: home.

He turned away, a snarl on his face. He didn’t have a home. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he tried to calm himself, his raging thoughts and drumming fingers. Rain began to fall, assaulting his clothes and soaking him. Some of the rage went down the drains with the water. He twisted his face into a neutral expression and turned the corner, no idea where he was going.

Rain. He didn't know if he loved or hated it. Rain had certainly prevented him from setting his house on fire a number of times... but it had also made a mess of things more often than not.

So, for right now, he decides, rain is rather annoying. Especially when you don't own an umbrella and have to make a... work trip of sorts. Luke huffs a little as he steps outside of the building he'd had to make a house visit in. Out of the warmth and into the soggy, soggy cold. Ugh.

It was even more ugh when he finds himself... bumping into someone. Luke manages to stay upright for the most part during this collision and grunts something of an apology under his breath.

He wasn’t the only one with no idea where he was going. As soon as Ishir turned the corner, he collided with someone. The force had him stumbling back, but he managed to stay upright. “You call that an apology,” he snarled, unable to keep the rage he felt completely off his face.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Luke pauses in his step, poorly containing a roll of his eyes and let's out a breath. "Yeah, I mean, by technical definition it is one." He shrugs, not even glancing back at him before intending to scurry along.

“Not accepted,” he said before grabbing the other by the collar. But as he made the move, Ishir realised the mistake he’d made. Going to the Upper Ring and having his revenge had been his dream for as long as he could imagine and here he was risking everything for an insignificant rat. He’d barely pulled the other close to him when he already let him go and took a step back.

Ah, shit. Is his first thought as he gets yanked by the collar. He was tired, and more than a little hungry, so he couldn't put up much of a resistance... Though he does try to pry those fingers off his shirt. Luke blinks a few times when the stranger lets him go. ...The fuck? He wasn't complaining, but this was definitely kinda weird. Most people who grabbed him like that would have just followed through with the hit. He stares for a moment, processing.

Ishir didn’t even notice the fingers trying to move his iron grip as his thoughts raced through his head. He was blowing his cover. Like always, everything he did was a mistake. He let the other’s collar slip through his fingers and took a step back. “Go away,” he spoke softly. This was just a slip up. A tiny blunder he could easily fix. He just needed the stranger to get away from him. “Go,” he repeated louder, his face almost contorting back into the anger from earlier.

Now the real question was, did Luke want to leave him be after nearly getting punched...? Or was he just irritated enough to stick around out of spite? He squints at Ishir, a very notable frown on his face.

"Man, I almost don't wanna, now," he admits aloud, looking much like a cat that was told to stay at home and chose to run out instead.

That was the wrong answer. He needed the other gone so he wouldn’t do anything stupid, but now, now that was the only option left. His hand shot out towards the man’s throat. “Do you like pain?” he asked, eyes wide and dark.

Luke makes sure to take a careful amount of steps back so that hand can't quite reach him. Well, if he was going to get assaulted, he may as well cause discomfort, now!

"Sometimes, though usually just in bed." He quips, clearly fucking around as he keeps himself a nice distance away.

"Though, since you're being a dick at three A.M. in the middle of rainy season, I like you way less than I like pain."

Ishir let out a frustrated scream when the other evaded his hand.

In bed? That was not the answer he’d expected. “It’d be easier if you just stood still,” he growled. It would be so satisfying to knock that arrogance out of the man. “If you prefer to lay down for it, be my guest.”

The mention of rain reminded him that drops were still falling from the sky. His clothes were almost completely soaked and the cold started to seep into his bones. “I’m the dick?” he asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes, I'm soooooo sorry, my liege, let me just hold perfectly still for you to punch me, my mistake." Luke punctuates the statement with a vivid roll of his eyes, continuing to be just out of reach. "Yes, yes, why don't I just let you beat the shit out of me, that sounds like a great idea! I commend your brilliance!"

Luke's eye brow rises, a scowl settled on his face. "Noooo, you're a model citizen! That tries to punch people in the middle of the night for lightly bumping into you! Not dickish at all, no siree! My mistake."

He crosses his arms. "Do forgive me for being pissed that some random asshat grabbed me by the collar over something that could've gone over quietly otherwise."

You know, he knew the other was being sarcastic, but he wasn’t very upset about being called ‘my liege’. “You said you liked getting hurt,” he retorted. Of course the other hadn’t been serious, but he could handle some of his own medicine.

Lightly bumping him? “You almost threw me to the ground!” He threw his arm to the side to portray the motion.”And you weren’t very polite about it either, now were you?” Ishir was very prone to exaggeration, but he wasn't the one that had bumped into someone who'd already been in a bad mood and he wasn't the one that hadn't even had the decency to apologise.

"In a sexual context! With consent! There's a difference!" Okay, so maybe he outed himself just a little bit, but that doesn't matter! He knows what he means! Or, uh. At least Luke thinks so?

"You're wearing dark clothes, it's the middle of the night, and it's raining! I couldn't see your ass, it's not like I nudged you on purpose!" Arguing with a stranger. At three A.M. Of course he was. I couldn't just go home and feed my cats after work. Not that those little bastards needed him for food, anyway. "And an apology is an apology, dude. I'm not gonna kiss your ass, I don't even know you."

Ishir couldn't help but chuckle at the man trying to explain himself. "Clearly," he answered while rolling his eyes.

His gaze went down and he looked himself over. The suit he was wearing was quite flashy during the day, but at night and in the rain it was dark enough to blend in with the surroundings.

"That another one of your kinks?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Now he was just having fun.

"Ironically enough, no." Or was it? Who knows! Luke huffs, a firm frown settled on his lips, nose wrinkled a bit from annoyance. He was drenched and here he was, still arguing with this stranger. What a dude.

It was strange with how much Ishir liked plans and schemes that he could also change gears in a second or have the weirdest conversations known to mankind and still act as if they were normal. "Not sure I believe you," he hummed. He'd been unbelievably angry just a few seconds ago, but now it was turning into the kind of argument in which he could make the other party angry or embarrass them and that was even more satisfying than giving out a good punch.

Luke smirks... in the kind of way an asshole smirks when something particular is on their minds. "You don't have to. Not like we'll be sleeping with each other." Bleh. No thank you.

"You sure sound like you do." Mentally, Ishir was asking himself where he was even going with this. He still wanted to hit the other but somehow this was where the conversation naturally took him. He took a step forward, just because he felt like it.

Luke keeps a relative distance, though his gaze focuses on him a bit more when Ishir moves closer. He shrugs. "Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. Why? You wanna bang?"

As he took a step closer, he studied the other. In the dark he couldn't see much except that he had light hair and eyes and that he wasn't much taller than him. "Aren't you eloquent," he said. He moved closer again, cornering the other. The dangerous glint in his eyes made it unclear whether he wanted to hit the other or do something else entirely.

"My momma always said I was good with words," he says jokingly. As if.

Luke blinks when he takes a step closer, and shifts a little, fully intending to get out of the way if violence seemed imminent...

“You could use another lesson,” he said. “By a master.”

As he got closer he looked the other over one last time before he kissed the man, rough like the rest of their interaction had gone.

Luke sends him a particularly unimpressed look. "A master- mmf!"

Well, I was joking, but okay.

He's tense for only a handful of seconds... then laughs incredulously as he's kissed. Mm, what's letting out a bit of steam? He reciprocates almost viciously, hands digging into the other's arms without any further thought.

He had to stretch to reach the other’s lips, but that only made it more satisfying when he crashed their mouths together and the man’s words turned into a muffled sound, only leaving a single important one audible. He smirked as the other reciprocated. It was funny how quickly anger or hate could turn into a different kind of longing. The grip on his arms heated him back up where his wet clothing had left him cold and he felt warmth on his fingertips as he moved his own hands to the other’s sides.