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[ Barry's not normally a fan of cigarette smoke but somehow on Constantine it...well, fits- mixed in with layers of whiskey and faint smell of whatever magic spell he'd performed last. Not that he really gets to consider all of that when the other suddenly shoves him up against the door and those lips are pressed against his in that rough, delectable kiss. Barry can't help that moan that escapes against John's lips as his hand reaches up to curl against the others shirt. Maybe he's always had a slight thing for older men but that kiss was really, really just reinforcing that.
He gives a slight little gasp as the other bites on his lip and his head rather tilts into the others touch and hands- almost like aching for more of the taste of John or the feeling of him. Barry's bright eyes meeting others already blown with arousal as he takes a little breath.]
It...does. Yeah.
[ Which doesn't sound like the smartest answer in his head. So his hands were just going to brush up, along the others chest- just feeling those muscles as he tilted his hips against the older mans invitingly.]
So. Wanna see how many rounds I can go?
He gives a slight little gasp as the other bites on his lip and his head rather tilts into the others touch and hands- almost like aching for more of the taste of John or the feeling of him. Barry's bright eyes meeting others already blown with arousal as he takes a little breath.]
It...does. Yeah.
[ Which doesn't sound like the smartest answer in his head. So his hands were just going to brush up, along the others chest- just feeling those muscles as he tilted his hips against the older mans invitingly.]
So. Wanna see how many rounds I can go?
[ he lifts the beer in a small toast to the other man, then takes a drink, tongue flicking against the mouth of the bottle as he lowers it-- both to catch a few stray drops and to tease constantine a bit. ]
I was a homebody for a long time, [ he admits with a shrug. he hadn't had a choice, really, until he'd learned to hold a completely human shape. no fucking horns, no goat-pupils, nothing to hint of his origins. ] I travel a lot now, though. [ as somewhat apparent by his presence here. ] Haven't been across the pond yet, but I've been in most states, parts of Canada and Central and South America. [ not so easy to jump on a plane when you technically don't exist.
he jerks his chin slightly toward the other man, expression indulgent and interested. ] You? What's your work?
I was a homebody for a long time, [ he admits with a shrug. he hadn't had a choice, really, until he'd learned to hold a completely human shape. no fucking horns, no goat-pupils, nothing to hint of his origins. ] I travel a lot now, though. [ as somewhat apparent by his presence here. ] Haven't been across the pond yet, but I've been in most states, parts of Canada and Central and South America. [ not so easy to jump on a plane when you technically don't exist.
he jerks his chin slightly toward the other man, expression indulgent and interested. ] You? What's your work?
[His gaze rakes over Barry's face, taking in the flush already sweeping his cheeks, the wide eyes and way he'd leaned after Constantine just from that much already.]
Oh, I can think of a few things to do with you.
[And just like that, he steps back, only a hand hooking in Barry's shirt tugging him to follow.]
But if we're going to test your limits, pretty boy, then we're going to need something to make sure you can tell me to stop when it gets too much.
Oh, I can think of a few things to do with you.
[And just like that, he steps back, only a hand hooking in Barry's shirt tugging him to follow.]
But if we're going to test your limits, pretty boy, then we're going to need something to make sure you can tell me to stop when it gets too much.
Oh-
[ Not that Barry really has all that much time to respond before he was being tugged forward and his feet were easily following that little direction. Even as his mind was already wondering *what* few things the other was exactly thinking about doing with him.
though he does get a pretty, happy dumb smile at being called pretty. Barry's lips do press together at the idea of the other testing his limits though. Doesn't that sound like fun. ]
Like a safeword?
[ You spend like, enough time around Leonard Snart and stuff like that tends to somehow get in your brain.]
Pretty sure "Savitar" works fine for that.
[ Not that Barry really has all that much time to respond before he was being tugged forward and his feet were easily following that little direction. Even as his mind was already wondering *what* few things the other was exactly thinking about doing with him.
though he does get a pretty, happy dumb smile at being called pretty. Barry's lips do press together at the idea of the other testing his limits though. Doesn't that sound like fun. ]
Like a safeword?
[ You spend like, enough time around Leonard Snart and stuff like that tends to somehow get in your brain.]
Pretty sure "Savitar" works fine for that.
Exactly like that.
[Constantine's lips curl into another smile and he switches to pushing Barry towards the bed, pressing him down and taking position between his legs.]
You just hold onto that in case you need it later, yeah?
[Those jeans are sinfully tight, and it's clear that Barry definitely picked this outfit for exactly this situation. Constantine traces his hands up the inside seams of the fabric and over Barry's hips, thumbs curling under the waistband of the jeans and pulling it down a fraction.]
And you expect me to believe you came here thinking it was all a prank?
[Constantine's lips curl into another smile and he switches to pushing Barry towards the bed, pressing him down and taking position between his legs.]
You just hold onto that in case you need it later, yeah?
[Those jeans are sinfully tight, and it's clear that Barry definitely picked this outfit for exactly this situation. Constantine traces his hands up the inside seams of the fabric and over Barry's hips, thumbs curling under the waistband of the jeans and pulling it down a fraction.]
And you expect me to believe you came here thinking it was all a prank?
[That tongue is the kind of distraction to make it difficult for a man to think on anything else, and he's certain Hiram knows it. Constantine's teeth scrape against his own lower lip, thumb circling the lip of his own bottle that he's starting to doubt he'll even finish at this point.]
Me? I'm a shady bastard I am. Plenty of names for what I do.
[His grin is all tease, although it's far from a lie.]
Warlock. Demonologist. Exorcist. Nasty piece of work. Ask anyone and they'll tell you.
Me? I'm a shady bastard I am. Plenty of names for what I do.
[His grin is all tease, although it's far from a lie.]
Warlock. Demonologist. Exorcist. Nasty piece of work. Ask anyone and they'll tell you.
[ Barry gives a little oof sound as he falls to the bed, bouncing on it slightly as he leans up on his elbows but he does part his legs prettily easily for the older man, almost sluttly so as he gives a little nod at those words. ]
You think I'm gonna need it? Or you just safety first kinda guy?
[ If only because he's super curious what the other was thinking- the speedster just watches John though his long lashes as his lips press together at the feeling of those broad hands running up the inside of his legs and along his hips. He'd already made that involuntary moan earlier and he was trying to at least, look a little like he could keep his chill. Barry's hips do lift a little to help slide them off as they get tugged down just a touch.
There's a cheeky look on his face at those words, however.[
Well...maybe hope for the best, you know? Even if the best in this case is getting fucked blind.
You think I'm gonna need it? Or you just safety first kinda guy?
[ If only because he's super curious what the other was thinking- the speedster just watches John though his long lashes as his lips press together at the feeling of those broad hands running up the inside of his legs and along his hips. He'd already made that involuntary moan earlier and he was trying to at least, look a little like he could keep his chill. Barry's hips do lift a little to help slide them off as they get tugged down just a touch.
There's a cheeky look on his face at those words, however.[
Well...maybe hope for the best, you know? Even if the best in this case is getting fucked blind.
[ oh. well, shit. he should have known, really. his smile falters a little, but he's hoping it'll just look like normal surprise, not.. slightly existential surprise. ]
Yeah? Never met a warlock-demonologist-exorcist before. [ which is the absolute truth. they'd tried to exorcise the entire barrens back in the day a couple of times, trying to get rid of him, but it doesn't really work that way, and he'd avoided them like the fucking plague anyway. ]
Is a warlock much like a witch? [ every witch he's ever personally known has been pro-demon. ]
Yeah? Never met a warlock-demonologist-exorcist before. [ which is the absolute truth. they'd tried to exorcise the entire barrens back in the day a couple of times, trying to get rid of him, but it doesn't really work that way, and he'd avoided them like the fucking plague anyway. ]
Is a warlock much like a witch? [ every witch he's ever personally known has been pro-demon. ]
Some say that it's the male version, yeah.
[He'd noticed the way Hiram faltered, and while it's not surprising, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't disappointing.]
It means I work magic, mostly trying to help people. Send the ghosts and demons out there hurting others back to where they came from. There's a lot in this world you don't know about, luv, and I won't take it personally if you'd rather leave now. This life is one I'm used to walking on my own.
[He'd noticed the way Hiram faltered, and while it's not surprising, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't disappointing.]
It means I work magic, mostly trying to help people. Send the ghosts and demons out there hurting others back to where they came from. There's a lot in this world you don't know about, luv, and I won't take it personally if you'd rather leave now. This life is one I'm used to walking on my own.
It's not that, [ he reassures him, and hooks their ankles together again beneath the table to assuage any doubt constantine may have. it's less to do with what he thinks about the other man than what he thinks of hiram in the end.
he's quiet for a few moments, considering, thumbnail scraping at the label on his bottle. at last, he tilts his head slightly, nearly-colorless pale blue eyes meeting constantine's. ]
You said ghosts and demons that are out there hurting others. What about when they don't?
he's quiet for a few moments, considering, thumbnail scraping at the label on his bottle. at last, he tilts his head slightly, nearly-colorless pale blue eyes meeting constantine's. ]
You said ghosts and demons that are out there hurting others. What about when they don't?
( Tony feels his gorge rise as Constantine polishes off the jar's contents, but the wave of nausea doesn't last long, burned away by the shock of sudden heat. His hands reflexively move to his throat, and his eyes to the circle, the fog within churning like a vortex.
And then something just. Slams into the inner rim of that circle, then the opposite side, like a trapped bird beating its wings against a cage that's too small. The simile holds: there's a distinctly bird-ish creature in there, at least to Tony's desperate reckoning, something with huge owl eyes and wings and raking talons, all on a reptilian frame, and all of it eerily wrong. )
And then something just. Slams into the inner rim of that circle, then the opposite side, like a trapped bird beating its wings against a cage that's too small. The simile holds: there's a distinctly bird-ish creature in there, at least to Tony's desperate reckoning, something with huge owl eyes and wings and raking talons, all on a reptilian frame, and all of it eerily wrong. )
[There's something about the question that Hiram asks, a question that most people wouldn't have even considered, that has Constantine meeting that pale gaze completely seriously.]
It happens, though most wouldn't know it. Some say there's spirits all over the place, they just keep to themselves and aren't out taking people's bodies for a spin.
[He shrugs, dropping his gaze and leaning back, foot rubbing reassuringly against Hiram's under the table. Constantine takes out a pack of cigarettes and taps one out.]
I don't bother with those types. If I started hunting down every spirit or creature just for existing, I'd be just as bad.
It happens, though most wouldn't know it. Some say there's spirits all over the place, they just keep to themselves and aren't out taking people's bodies for a spin.
[He shrugs, dropping his gaze and leaning back, foot rubbing reassuringly against Hiram's under the table. Constantine takes out a pack of cigarettes and taps one out.]
I don't bother with those types. If I started hunting down every spirit or creature just for existing, I'd be just as bad.
[ .. good, that's.. really good, actually. better than he was hoping for, maybe even best-case scenario. though constantine could always change his mind about hiram once he knows. .. still, it feels like hiding his identity is a bad idea with this man, considering what he does for a living.
he takes another sip of his beer and sets it back down, lips quirking up crookedly. ]
In that case, I feel you ought to know I'm that Leeds, then. [ a mild, dismissive wave of the hand not still curled around his beer. ] Mother's thirteenth, sired by the Devil and all that. [ his eyes crinkle a little at the corners in cautious amusement. ] The drawings really don't do me justice, though.
he takes another sip of his beer and sets it back down, lips quirking up crookedly. ]
In that case, I feel you ought to know I'm that Leeds, then. [ a mild, dismissive wave of the hand not still curled around his beer. ] Mother's thirteenth, sired by the Devil and all that. [ his eyes crinkle a little at the corners in cautious amusement. ] The drawings really don't do me justice, though.
A long day, for Bruce Wayne. Not the socialite, but the owner of a multibillion dollar conglomerate; he is careful and surgical in the way he keeps the company under his control, but just barely. There are hawks and sharks desperate to pry the reins from the faded tabloid darling, and some of them are even on the board. Now and again (and especially when they want to 'renegotiate' employee health care, or try to contract with the Department of Defense), he has to set his careful chess game aside and go in with a shotgun. So to speak.
It's more annoying than being Batman. Definitely more tiring.
But it means he quarters in the city proper, and not the lake house. (Definitely not the ruins of the manor.) He can almost taste the ghost of it in the air in the elevator, which would be a giveaway if he lacked his particular security. No lock can keep out a magician's teleport, but his automated surveillance can still send him a polite text about it.
Motherfucker. Cigarettes in his penthouse.
"One of those windows had better be open," he says, shrugging off his jacket. The sprawling rooftop estate has plenty, the whole of this awful city visible from end to end, broken up by dark ribs of art deco steel.
It's more annoying than being Batman. Definitely more tiring.
But it means he quarters in the city proper, and not the lake house. (Definitely not the ruins of the manor.) He can almost taste the ghost of it in the air in the elevator, which would be a giveaway if he lacked his particular security. No lock can keep out a magician's teleport, but his automated surveillance can still send him a polite text about it.
Motherfucker. Cigarettes in his penthouse.
"One of those windows had better be open," he says, shrugging off his jacket. The sprawling rooftop estate has plenty, the whole of this awful city visible from end to end, broken up by dark ribs of art deco steel.
"'course it is, luv," comes the response, all blatant disregard for any kind of niceties. Neither of them is the kind to ask how someone is or about their day even without their unusual partnership. The main politeness Constantine can show is the fact that there are, in fact, a couple of windows open and an uncannily accurate breeze that seems to filter the smoke that rises from his cigarette towards them and out into the evening air.
Constantine himself looks similarly worse for wear, tie even more askew than usual, shirt and skin alike marked with grime and dried blood and a couple of bruises starting to blossom in places. The coat is tossed aside and shirtsleeves rolled up, a sign he's been here longer for a few moments, and he's sitting in one of the expensive chairs with two bare feet up on the desk and what he hopes is some important paperwork. All the better to get a rise or at least leave a sign he was here at all.
Once Bruce is closer, he does give him a once over, although there's enough heat in his gaze that it's clearly not just checking the state the billionaire had arrived in.
"Looks like you could use a release, luv. And it just so happens I could do with something to take my mind off things too."
Constantine himself looks similarly worse for wear, tie even more askew than usual, shirt and skin alike marked with grime and dried blood and a couple of bruises starting to blossom in places. The coat is tossed aside and shirtsleeves rolled up, a sign he's been here longer for a few moments, and he's sitting in one of the expensive chairs with two bare feet up on the desk and what he hopes is some important paperwork. All the better to get a rise or at least leave a sign he was here at all.
Once Bruce is closer, he does give him a once over, although there's enough heat in his gaze that it's clearly not just checking the state the billionaire had arrived in.
"Looks like you could use a release, luv. And it just so happens I could do with something to take my mind off things too."
They certainly don't. [Again, Constantine's gaze flickers over Hiram, both appreciatively and with his own slight amusement. There's a touch of caution and interest there as well, if only because of that particular revelation in a place like this. As much as he'd like it to be otherwise, Constantine still has to instinctively consider if this could be a trap, and exactly how many innocents are around them if it is.]
So you're telling me that you're hundreds of years old and the son of Old Scratch? You're either bloody good at hiding it, mate, or lucky not to have been touched by that evil.
So you're telling me that you're hundreds of years old and the son of Old Scratch? You're either bloody good at hiding it, mate, or lucky not to have been touched by that evil.
"A business visit, huh." Dry, as he makes his way over. Careful in his movements, not faking anything, but not yet off the clock long enough to fully bleed into his thoughtless, predatory grace. Bruce comes up alongside him and reaches out with one hand, capturing Constantine's jaw and pushing him back into the chair, head tipped back. His other hand snags that cigarette, and a flick sends it soaring away out a window. Impressive, until you realize he could probably hit a bird with it from twenty yards away, and then it's just petty.
That done, he releases him and steps away, circling back towards the kitchen, undoing cufflinks, tie bar, buttons. Always so made-up, like he can't conceive of not wearing armor.
"Was it very bad this time, or are you just very bored?"
Sometimes it's awful. I have to forget. Sometimes it's just because there's no one else who can fill the right gap. Bruce understands both. There's no alcohol anywhere in the penthouse, but he finds himself checking anyway, a tedious buzz starting in the back of his head. Withdrawal from alcohol dependency was only half as bad as recovering from some of the poisons and toxins he's got an immunity for, not it's been frustratingly long-reaching. Sometimes when he's agitated, his mind reaches out for it without his permission.
Sugar-free ginger ale it is. (Goddamnit, Alfred.) He twists the cap on it, closes the sleek refrigerator with his foot, and mentally maps out what he has immediately at hand. Out here, or in the bedroom, or in the bath. Takes stock of the other man's gaze and just how much of a frayed edge he seems to have (or not) as he returns, moving a little more like himself.
That done, he releases him and steps away, circling back towards the kitchen, undoing cufflinks, tie bar, buttons. Always so made-up, like he can't conceive of not wearing armor.
"Was it very bad this time, or are you just very bored?"
Sometimes it's awful. I have to forget. Sometimes it's just because there's no one else who can fill the right gap. Bruce understands both. There's no alcohol anywhere in the penthouse, but he finds himself checking anyway, a tedious buzz starting in the back of his head. Withdrawal from alcohol dependency was only half as bad as recovering from some of the poisons and toxins he's got an immunity for, not it's been frustratingly long-reaching. Sometimes when he's agitated, his mind reaches out for it without his permission.
Sugar-free ginger ale it is. (Goddamnit, Alfred.) He twists the cap on it, closes the sleek refrigerator with his foot, and mentally maps out what he has immediately at hand. Out here, or in the bedroom, or in the bath. Takes stock of the other man's gaze and just how much of a frayed edge he seems to have (or not) as he returns, moving a little more like himself.
Not quite three-hundred, [ he admits, smile taking on a rueful note, ] and it's.. complicated, I guess. [ that's cliche, he knows, but he's not sure how else to sum it up.
he shifts, leaning on his elbows on the table, a hand lifting to push shaggy hair back behind his ear. ]
Can't lie, I was a bitter, hateful thing for a long while. Then I learned how to look like humans and found out you're not all bad. [ he hesitates, head tipping slightly. ] As far as dear old dad goes, he's never actually said a word to me, but I've never asked him to, either. Maybe that's what he's waiting for, I don't know.
he shifts, leaning on his elbows on the table, a hand lifting to push shaggy hair back behind his ear. ]
Can't lie, I was a bitter, hateful thing for a long while. Then I learned how to look like humans and found out you're not all bad. [ he hesitates, head tipping slightly. ] As far as dear old dad goes, he's never actually said a word to me, but I've never asked him to, either. Maybe that's what he's waiting for, I don't know.
[Constantine jerks back, and for a moment the circle wavers, wisps of fog and the stench of sulphur ebbing out into the air before he tightens his hold once more. It's strong, stronger than he'd expected and more unusually it doesn't even pretend to take human form. Demons could come in all shapes and sizes, but during a summoning their favourite was often to pick something specifically to unsettle the summoners. A familiar face, a lost loved one, a glimpse of a terrible future... those were things he's familiar with and expects. This is something different.
He doesn't like it. And, by the look of him, neither does Tony.]
Look familiar to you? Anything at all could be a clue since this bastard is being less helpful than I'd hoped.
[There's a small chance it means something to the other man, if he's lucky, but he has a feeling it won't be an easy solution.]
I'll try and get it to talk but usually the problem is shutting them up.
He doesn't like it. And, by the look of him, neither does Tony.]
Look familiar to you? Anything at all could be a clue since this bastard is being less helpful than I'd hoped.
[There's a small chance it means something to the other man, if he's lucky, but he has a feeling it won't be an easy solution.]
I'll try and get it to talk but usually the problem is shutting them up.
Bit of both, wouldn't want to put you in a situation where you needed to tap out and couldn't. Especially if you really mean to let me see where your limits are, pretty boy.
[It certainly helps that Barry isn't shy about his responses; anyone else and Constantine might wonder if they were putting on a bit of a show and would be offended that they think he'd need the ego boost, but there's a refreshing sort of honesty to the speedster that makes him certain it's not exaggerated.
They're the sort of responses that it's nice to see more of, as Constantine flicks open the button to Barry's jeans and tugs them open just enough to slide a hand in. He cups the younger man's cock, rough fingers stroking over soft skin in a deliberate tease before he pulls away entirely, leaving only lingering warmth.]
Do us a favour and get yourself comfy on the bed, yeah?
[It certainly helps that Barry isn't shy about his responses; anyone else and Constantine might wonder if they were putting on a bit of a show and would be offended that they think he'd need the ego boost, but there's a refreshing sort of honesty to the speedster that makes him certain it's not exaggerated.
They're the sort of responses that it's nice to see more of, as Constantine flicks open the button to Barry's jeans and tugs them open just enough to slide a hand in. He cups the younger man's cock, rough fingers stroking over soft skin in a deliberate tease before he pulls away entirely, leaving only lingering warmth.]
Do us a favour and get yourself comfy on the bed, yeah?
Better that you don't ask and don't try and get any contact there. It'll only end badly, trust me.
[He finds it odd as well that there hadn't been any attempt to control or corrupt Hiram at all, and might have considered it a ruse... but even searching his own memory, Constantine couldn't recall any actual deaths of anything more than livestock being blamed on the Leeds Devil.]
Why the bitterness then? Seems like you've been lucky to escape getting caught up in his plans.
[He finds it odd as well that there hadn't been any attempt to control or corrupt Hiram at all, and might have considered it a ruse... but even searching his own memory, Constantine couldn't recall any actual deaths of anything more than livestock being blamed on the Leeds Devil.]
Why the bitterness then? Seems like you've been lucky to escape getting caught up in his plans.
Hey, this was meant to be test right? So...test away. Go as hard as you want, I'm not gonna break.
[ Barry was the Paragon of love after all- being this naturally honest and open tended to come easily to him. As did that genuine light blush and dopey smile that came on Barry's lips as the other once again called him pretty.
His eyes follow the others hand as it undoes his jeans and that hand slides into his pants- a sharp gasp escaping from the speedsters lips as he feels himself get harder and harder by the moment before the other pulls away totally and he almost *pouts* at the lack of touch. ]
Ah. What? Right-..Yeah.
[ Barry was just going to sit up a bit before his fingers found the edge of his shirt and he tugged it over his head, dropping it to the side somewhere before he pushed those jeans down, off his body as well, letting them fall to the floor as he shifted back on the bed in just that tight red underwear that already betrayed that half hard cock of his.
Barry's eyes did flick up to meet John's though as he gave a little wave of his hand.]
You gonna join me then?
[ Barry was the Paragon of love after all- being this naturally honest and open tended to come easily to him. As did that genuine light blush and dopey smile that came on Barry's lips as the other once again called him pretty.
His eyes follow the others hand as it undoes his jeans and that hand slides into his pants- a sharp gasp escaping from the speedsters lips as he feels himself get harder and harder by the moment before the other pulls away totally and he almost *pouts* at the lack of touch. ]
Ah. What? Right-..Yeah.
[ Barry was just going to sit up a bit before his fingers found the edge of his shirt and he tugged it over his head, dropping it to the side somewhere before he pushed those jeans down, off his body as well, letting them fall to the floor as he shifted back on the bed in just that tight red underwear that already betrayed that half hard cock of his.
Barry's eyes did flick up to meet John's though as he gave a little wave of his hand.]
You gonna join me then?
He may've had plans, I don't know. [ he sits back again, spine softening in the seat until he's in an easy sprawl. ] Anyway, it doesn't take the devil to teach someone to hate. I was abandoned by my mother and I was a monster. You don't want to see my other shape, but trust me, it's more than enough to make people fear me.
[ and who'd been there to teach him right from wrong? the coven who'd had a hand in his raising had been inclined toward encouraging more wicked pursuits, and the good quakers at the time had been more likely to run screaming than stop to talk.
he drains the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the table again, brows lifting, mouth quirking up again. ]
Anyway, as it turns out, I've a mind to question things, and I'm more open-minded than I used to think I was. So here I am, somewhat less devilish than I'm certain some would like. [ a beat, and his smile widens. ] More cryptid than devil, actually, I think. Cryptids are more fun.
[ and who'd been there to teach him right from wrong? the coven who'd had a hand in his raising had been inclined toward encouraging more wicked pursuits, and the good quakers at the time had been more likely to run screaming than stop to talk.
he drains the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the table again, brows lifting, mouth quirking up again. ]
Anyway, as it turns out, I've a mind to question things, and I'm more open-minded than I used to think I was. So here I am, somewhat less devilish than I'm certain some would like. [ a beat, and his smile widens. ] More cryptid than devil, actually, I think. Cryptids are more fun.
"Would you prefer if I had your slippers and a paper ready for you when you got in? Dinner on the table?" He drops his feet from the desk as Bruce approaches, but before another snide comment can follow there's that hand, firm and controlling and leaving no room for argument as Bruce presses his head back. It's one of the few times he doesn't protest the loss of his fix because Christ if he isn't here for a different one entirely and that alone has left his mouth dry.
But even so, it takes more than a casual show of domination to shut John Constantine up for more than a moment or two.
He rises from the chair as Bruce steps away, momentarily debating just producing another cigarette to piss the billionaire off more but deciding against it. Packs were only getting more expensive and he wanted a least one left for later. Instead he settles for watching Bruce remove the little bits that tied him to the carefully constructed mask. Maybe another day he'll see how far he can push that mask before Bruce has a chance to remove it completely, but not today.
"Who doesn't like travelling to the past and almost getting tortured to death for a bloody black magic ritual?" The medical bay on the Waverider and Gideon's expertise meant that the wounds always healed fast, but the rest of it... that's harder. The kind of hard that drove him here or halfway down a bottle. Here at least he got the chance to feel some control back when it came to his own skin.
He can hear Bruce in the kitchen, the sound of disappointing bottles that aren't full of what they'd both like right now clinking together, and Constantine briefly wonders what would have happened if he'd turned up with a bottle of his own. It's the kind of thing that might end with him never being allowed back in to whatever it is they've settled on though, or at least ran the risk of ruining it all one way or another. He doesn't think it worth the risk.
So instead he wanders after Bruce and leans in the doorframe, his fingers digging out his lighter to flick it open and snap it shut in a habitual gesture. Watching Bruce as the walk shifts so something suggesting a prowl, someone ready for anything that might come his way and expecting the worst. Someone not to be trifled with unless you were willing (hoping, in Constantine's case) to deal with the consequences.
"There he is. You should really think about ditching that cover some time, luv. That board of yours wouldn't last a moment against you like this."
But even so, it takes more than a casual show of domination to shut John Constantine up for more than a moment or two.
He rises from the chair as Bruce steps away, momentarily debating just producing another cigarette to piss the billionaire off more but deciding against it. Packs were only getting more expensive and he wanted a least one left for later. Instead he settles for watching Bruce remove the little bits that tied him to the carefully constructed mask. Maybe another day he'll see how far he can push that mask before Bruce has a chance to remove it completely, but not today.
"Who doesn't like travelling to the past and almost getting tortured to death for a bloody black magic ritual?" The medical bay on the Waverider and Gideon's expertise meant that the wounds always healed fast, but the rest of it... that's harder. The kind of hard that drove him here or halfway down a bottle. Here at least he got the chance to feel some control back when it came to his own skin.
He can hear Bruce in the kitchen, the sound of disappointing bottles that aren't full of what they'd both like right now clinking together, and Constantine briefly wonders what would have happened if he'd turned up with a bottle of his own. It's the kind of thing that might end with him never being allowed back in to whatever it is they've settled on though, or at least ran the risk of ruining it all one way or another. He doesn't think it worth the risk.
So instead he wanders after Bruce and leans in the doorframe, his fingers digging out his lighter to flick it open and snap it shut in a habitual gesture. Watching Bruce as the walk shifts so something suggesting a prowl, someone ready for anything that might come his way and expecting the worst. Someone not to be trifled with unless you were willing (hoping, in Constantine's case) to deal with the consequences.
"There he is. You should really think about ditching that cover some time, luv. That board of yours wouldn't last a moment against you like this."
If Constantine brought alcohol, Bruce wouldn't have any; he's not the sort to be agitated by what other people do, like that. It's only what his own head does to him. What he'd do is make him drink it just to get the ashtray taste out of his mouth. Ginger ale probably won't cut it.
Sometimes he wonders if every jump through time creates a perforation in reality. If these leaks let something worse in. He wonders if they pull a thread loose on those that jump through, bit by bit. They aren't insulated from it like Barry Allen, who can trip over a can and find himself in last week. Bruce closes his hand over Constantine's, stilling the click of his lighter and holding there. He sips his ginger ale unenthusiastically, and watches him.
"Are you alright?"
His are hands that never fidget, or shake. Everything but steadiness has long been exorcized from him. That board wouldn't last a moment, but will you. Bruce is close enough that he could bridge the gap and kiss him, but he doesn't. Plastic soda bottle between them. An unusual brand, in-house from whatever terminally posh grocery store services orders from Gotham's elite. Constantine will have to rip his hand out from under Bruce's solid hold if he wants to back away, answer (flippant or hostile, he anticipates) with more feet of empty insulation between him and a too-observant gaze.
Sometimes he wonders if every jump through time creates a perforation in reality. If these leaks let something worse in. He wonders if they pull a thread loose on those that jump through, bit by bit. They aren't insulated from it like Barry Allen, who can trip over a can and find himself in last week. Bruce closes his hand over Constantine's, stilling the click of his lighter and holding there. He sips his ginger ale unenthusiastically, and watches him.
"Are you alright?"
His are hands that never fidget, or shake. Everything but steadiness has long been exorcized from him. That board wouldn't last a moment, but will you. Bruce is close enough that he could bridge the gap and kiss him, but he doesn't. Plastic soda bottle between them. An unusual brand, in-house from whatever terminally posh grocery store services orders from Gotham's elite. Constantine will have to rip his hand out from under Bruce's solid hold if he wants to back away, answer (flippant or hostile, he anticipates) with more feet of empty insulation between him and a too-observant gaze.
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