He wasn't gonna lie. Andre's response was disappointing. Not specifically that he was married. He could give two shits whether someone was married or not. That wasn't his problem. If they wanted to fuck around and play, whether they had an open thing, were poly, or just wanted something on the DL, it had nothing to do with him.
He wasn't the one with the commitment disease and swearing and pledging and shit, hog tying himself up in bonds of obligation....well, he smiled to himself. Yeah, he was totally into that, though not the obligation part, at least not beyond the agreed upon time frame of the session or meet up or munch or orgy.
No, but permanently (or even sort of seriously) restricting yourself to one or more people from then on? Fuuuuck that! Nothing was ever permanent. He knew this at his core. Everything and anything was temporary. Whether people left or they got sick or killed or whatever- or HE did- he did get bored pretty easy- nothing lasted. The lady was always waiting, ready to rip apart bonds and security whenever it suited her. Much easier to play along with her.
Which, trying to bring his mind back around to the subject at hand, was his point. Commitment meant nothing to him and if a person was committed but wanted to play, that wasn't his problem. That was between them and their leash holder (and this time he successfully fought going down that track). Jealous husbands, wives, partners or whatever didn't scare him. He knew how to take care of himself.
So when Andre went to his ball and chain, that wasn't what deflated him. No. It was his immediate correction of ninja girl. 'Not a date. I'm married.' What a dork. He was a shop closed up tight and only one person- probably a guy, from the way Mik caught his appreciation of his appreciation- had that key. And more fool him, he was happy with that. Happy to be a captive.
More's the pity, he thought, as his eyes lingered on those lines that disappeared beckoningly beneath his clothing. An eye flicked to ninja girl for a moment before back to Andre. Yeah...such a pity. He could have had some fun with both of them.
But he might still have a bit of fun. "Good for you, man. But that kind of thing is not for me. I never became a commitment victim." His grin was evil and he winked. Then he held up his glass in salute. "Congrats, though."
He turned to Chicky. "What about you, doll? You got anyone on a string?" He gestured at her badass weapon, letting some respect into his voice."That there says that you spend the majority of your time in tunnels and such, taking down whatever you called them. That something you can do with someone at home?"
Still, what she said reminded him. He paused, eying his drink for a moment, the clink of ice against the glass, and then went on, as if it was all a big lark. "You wouldn't believe the stuff I hear. Lot of things slinking around. Some in tunnels. And some in other places. People disappearing. Shit like that. That what you are here for? Boogeyman clean up crew?"
His playfulness was still there. It was never not there. But it hid a sharpening of his mind, the warm fuzzing of the vodka strangely helping, as always. This was information. That was his bread and butter.
He wasn't the one with the commitment disease and swearing and pledging and shit, hog tying himself up in bonds of obligation....well, he smiled to himself. Yeah, he was totally into that, though not the obligation part, at least not beyond the agreed upon time frame of the session or meet up or munch or orgy.
No, but permanently (or even sort of seriously) restricting yourself to one or more people from then on? Fuuuuck that! Nothing was ever permanent. He knew this at his core. Everything and anything was temporary. Whether people left or they got sick or killed or whatever- or HE did- he did get bored pretty easy- nothing lasted. The lady was always waiting, ready to rip apart bonds and security whenever it suited her. Much easier to play along with her.
Which, trying to bring his mind back around to the subject at hand, was his point. Commitment meant nothing to him and if a person was committed but wanted to play, that wasn't his problem. That was between them and their leash holder (and this time he successfully fought going down that track). Jealous husbands, wives, partners or whatever didn't scare him. He knew how to take care of himself.
So when Andre went to his ball and chain, that wasn't what deflated him. No. It was his immediate correction of ninja girl. 'Not a date. I'm married.' What a dork. He was a shop closed up tight and only one person- probably a guy, from the way Mik caught his appreciation of his appreciation- had that key. And more fool him, he was happy with that. Happy to be a captive.
More's the pity, he thought, as his eyes lingered on those lines that disappeared beckoningly beneath his clothing. An eye flicked to ninja girl for a moment before back to Andre. Yeah...such a pity. He could have had some fun with both of them.
But he might still have a bit of fun. "Good for you, man. But that kind of thing is not for me. I never became a commitment victim." His grin was evil and he winked. Then he held up his glass in salute. "Congrats, though."
He turned to Chicky. "What about you, doll? You got anyone on a string?" He gestured at her badass weapon, letting some respect into his voice."That there says that you spend the majority of your time in tunnels and such, taking down whatever you called them. That something you can do with someone at home?"
Still, what she said reminded him. He paused, eying his drink for a moment, the clink of ice against the glass, and then went on, as if it was all a big lark. "You wouldn't believe the stuff I hear. Lot of things slinking around. Some in tunnels. And some in other places. People disappearing. Shit like that. That what you are here for? Boogeyman clean up crew?"
His playfulness was still there. It was never not there. But it hid a sharpening of his mind, the warm fuzzing of the vodka strangely helping, as always. This was information. That was his bread and butter.
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods