|
EONS is a dance club situated in the heart of the gayborhood, known for its solid DJs, convenient private corners, and excellent non-alcoholic lemonade.
It's for at least some of these reasons that Jack is there tonight, dressed in as little as he can get away with on a chilly early spring night, ready to lose himself in the music, the press of strangers against him.
Vincent was currently cleaning himself up in the bathroom mirror, looking back to make sure one of his herd members was ok after a fang-session. He cleaned up any signs of blood, thank god the bathroom was empty, and smiled at himself and walked back out for a heaver drink, a shot or two would be nice. He nodded his head to the beat as he headed to the bar.
Jack's on the dance floor, color high on his cheeks with the exertion, and as the music shifts, he slips between the other dancers, making lingering eye contact with anyone who might be interested, and heads over to the bar to quench his thirst.
Mesh and leather and a little bit of glitter - the most covered part of him is his legs, clad in skintight jeans, and the floral tattoo that runs up his right arm and trails blackwork vines halfway across his collarbone and chest.
He orders a lemonade with the ease of long practice, casually flirting with the bartender (who flirts right back, like Jack's a regular) and he then leans against the bar, showing off his lean form as he sips his lemonade.
Vincent gets a glance, smile, updod.
Vincent nods back to the new face, taking a shot before turning his head to over look the dance floor, "You know what I love about places like this," he just starts chatting, "You can start a conversation with anybody, you can people watch, get shitfaced, and the music's not half bad, it's like a little bit of humanity under a petri dish," he blinks, "petri, petri, never realized how funny a word that is, what the hell is a petri anyway?" he asks, losing all semblence of whatever philosophy bullshit he was going to start with
"It's great, isn't it?" He nods and slides a little closer to the other man, and takes another drink of his lemonade. "Can't help you about the petri thing, though, I'm not a scientist. You can call me Jack, though," he holds a hand out to shake.
"Vincent, friend call me Vinny." he nodded as she shook the hand, "So, Jack, I want you to settle a mental debate I've been having all day, ya mind doing that?"
"Depends on the debate." There's a teasing lilt to his voice. His hands are calloused, his handshake firm and confident, his muscular frame speaking to physical labor, more than just a gym rat.
"Everything Everywhere at Once or 65," he said, breaking the handshake and taking another shot, "Both are playing in theaters but at the same time, which one should I go and see, Oscar winner or Adam Drive?"
"See one tonight and one tomorrow, yeah? Or an early showing of one and a late showing of another." It's said with barely a pause to think. "Easy to see both at different times, isn't it?"
"Yeah, that would take up too much of my time though," he whines, "Like, I got a strict schedule for work, night shift, so I can only fit in one viewing, I need to pick between the two and it's killing me." he sighs, "Please kind sir, I'm putting my movie fate in your hands."
"Alright," Jack chuckles, and drinks his lemonade like someone would drink a beer, "first question - how hot are you for Adam Driver? And d'you want the whole theater to know it? I'm not gonna lie, I haven't seen either of 'em, I usually work nights too."
"I like him as an actor, not any hots, too built for me." he shrugged, "But so far the last few movies he's been in where super good so that's a pattern, but this is an indie movie that won seven oscars and that's fucking awesome, I'm torn here."
"See Everything Everywhere All at Once, and watch 65 when it goes to streaming. Or DVD, if anything does that anymore. Or shit, pirate that shit," he chuckles. "But yeah, go see the Oscar winner."
"EEAO, got it." he nodded, "Thanks, now I got that weight off my shoulders." he chuckled, downing another shot, "Last movie I saw in theaters was Dune, been a solid minute since I've been to the movies."
"Glad to help. I still think you could find a way to watch 'em both." Jack winks. "Like I said, I don't go a lot myself. Sometimes an afternoon matinee, but I got other places to spend my money at. Like here. You have their lemonade? It's fucking fantastic."
"No I have not," he shrugged ordering a lemonade and downing it, "Ok, that was a fantastic lemonade." he said, looking the glass over, "So, Jack, you helped me with my movie problem, any debate I can settle for ya?"
"Mmm." The man licks his lips absently as he mulls the question over before grinning and shrugging. "Do I get another lemonade, or do I ask this cute guy I met at the bar to dance a little?"
Vincent chuckled, "Well, you've seem to have quite a few lemonades as it is, so maybe dancing would be a good option."
Another quiet chuckle and he reaches out to grab Vinny's hand to drag him onto the dance floor.
The bass thrums through the speakers, through the writhing mass of dancers, through Jack's now fluid movements as he pulls the other man close enough to dance with him.
Vinny lets Jack drag him and dances with him, moving as if the beat itself is controlling his movements, moving to compliment Jacks own dance moves, being a Daeva he starts dancing so that eyes start to focus on him, using his own lithe form in his favor and, while never matching the grace of Avery, does try to be a tad etherial as it where, oh to be a succubus
What Jack lacks in technique he makes up with enthusiasm and raw sensuality. His attention has narrowed down to Vinny and just Vinny - whether there's an audience or not doesn't seem to phase him. He stays close, his hands ghosting over the other man's body - not straying anywhere truly inappropriate, just staying within the bounds of dancing.
Vincent continues to just let the beat control him, his dancing is a tad flirty but just as Jack nothing that wouldn't be outside the bounds of dancing, he does however begin to revel in the attention is aware of every reaction he gets and the confidence begins to just ooze off of him, in a few instances his eyes do begin to flash red now and then, quick enough that only Jack being in his immediate proximity can tell, the Beast stirs a tad in the attention.
"God, you're good," Jack breathes, grinning, his heart thudding in his chest with the dancing and their closeness. "I could dance with you all night." His voice is low and breathless, murmured in Vinny's ear, but there doesn't seem to be any double entendre there. The man just wants to dance, with someone who knows what they're doing.
Vincent gives a shit eating grin, "Course I'm good, I'm Vincent fucking Drake," he says as he continues to sway to the beat, be like water and go with the flow, it's a good thing he tapped up blood earlier, he chuckled at the fact he didn't even blast Majesty, "So, Jacky boy, tell me, do you say that to all the twinks or should I do the city a favor and open a dancing school?"
"Babe I'm not gonna lie I've never heard your name in my life," Jack laughs, though his tone is not unkind. "But I'm not mad that I know it now..." He grips Vinny's hips for a moment, mildly possessive, before they continue up to his waist, moving in rhythm with the music.
"Well, now ya do," he chuckled, "And good, if you ever heard my name before it would probably be in a negative context, maybe a good one but the odds are bad." he laughed, "So, does this proper repayment for movie advice?"
"Enough skeletons in your closet that you've got a negative reputation around town?" Jack's tone is still teasing, though he's getting more and more out of breath as the two of them continue to dance.
Vincent however does not seem to be running out of breath, he looks like he can keep this up all night, "Eh, reputation of being the kind of guy who sells fake watches, bootleg movies," he shifts his accent, sounding like a Frenchmen with broken english, "a lost tourist who needs money to call the embassy," he shifts back to his natural Philly accent, "but hey, I look adorable while doing so."
"Do I gotta keep a closer eye on my wallet than I already do?" Jack's eye arches, but his smile is just as casual, his body just as relaxed. "But I guess it takes a particular kinda guy to tell a stranger that he sells fake watches and shit - dunno if it's a terrible idea, or brilliant," he chuckles.
"Hey I'm gonna go get another drink. You want something?"
"It's terribly brilliant," he chuckled, "No, I'm good, I'm filled for the night." he said, as he continued to dance
Jack trails his fingers down Vinny's chest as he steps away to go get himself another lemonade. He keeps a casual eye on the man, but his attention isn't nearly as focused as it was when he was on the dance floor with him. As he drinks, he pulls out his phone to tap away on it.
|