glimmerous_fop | [accidental video ]

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[accidental video ]

[When the feed cuts on there are a few things so incredibly obvious about the scene that anyone familiar with Klavier would know instantly that this was not typical:

A. He has no idea he's being recorded...well this is pretty normal...but his enduring lack of awareness is not.

B. He is in his office and he seems to be working diligently. When has he ever been shown in his office working harder than he plays?

C. Judging by the mountain of paper work and his unkempt, unpolished, devil-may-care appearance he appears to have been here for a while.

And

D. The look on his face suggests he's in a very bad mood on this very fine day.

Which doesn't help when his secretary comes in to check his pulse, thus disturbing the furious flow of his work. And the community is treated to the following interaction:]

What are you doing?

I wanted to make sure you were alive...you've holed yourself up and you haven't come out for hours. Aren't you hungry? Tired?

I'm neither, now leave me, I'm busy.

Clearly something is bothering you, you're more dedicated to your paper work than normal. Won't you trust me and tell me what it is?

I've learned a valuable lesson about naiveté and trust and that it's okay to trust people up till and except when evidence to the contrary proves you're mistaken. Then you're just being gullible.

Anything I can help with?

No, please leave.

But I'm really concerned about you.

I don't need you to be, now leave me alone.

But Mr. Gavin-

[The usually tolerant Klavier brings his fist down hard against the table he's working at sending some papers and a few unstable items flying off while startling his secretary. For a moment his expression is a bit unhinged and vaguely reminiscent of another Gavin.]

Oh!

I said get out!

Yes...you're right...I apologize...

[And soon enough Klavier is alone again in his office and though he seems calm his mood hasn't changed.]

Damn...

[ooc: Normal text is Klavier, italics belong to his secretary.]

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[He's decidedly less impressed with her answers since her first statement of completely new, useful information such as that he came in last night. He tucks the pack of cigarettes away with a slow, smoky exhale. At least he bothers to turn his face away for that much.]

Then, last question... [His arm slips out from around her, taking a step behind her and giving her a nudge towards the door with an entirely shameless pat on the ass.]</small. When's the last time you took an afternoon off just for the hell of it?

[She'd be more grateful for that if he wasn't trying to encourage her to leave the office.]

Never, but...I'm supposed to stay here until I'm off duty...and this is my job...[And yet he let her go so she was pretty eager to get away from the stranger who had an acquaintance with Klavier]...I can...take a late lunch break though so...but I'll be back...

[And if Klavier is dead she'll know who to blame, and she'll cover her ass too, with another uncomfortable backward glance]

If you come back today, I'm gonna assume it's cause the next time you leave here, you want it to be with me, to dinner. [It may forever be a mystery whether he's scoping out her ass so openly and with such a sleazy grin on purpose or just because it comes naturally.]

You would be laboring under the wrong assumption [and then she signs herself out and leaves, but she will remember your face, sir, in case she needs to for future reference.]

She wants me. [He adjusts his vest smugly, turning to the door and feeling his face fall. Skeeving out a female guard is straightforward enough, but...

Making it look like the most natural thing in the world, Greed heads in like he owns the place and, without waiting to be acknowledged, moves forward with the intent to dump the attorney right out of his chair.]

I told you I don't want to be disturbed right now, w-[but before he can finish that statement he finds himself tumbling onto the floor and wondering what just happened. Why would his own secretary tip him out of his seat...but she couldn't be that strong, could she? Well no time for being rational, he was upset before and he's even more furious now so he's quick to lever himself to his feet and round on his offender] I-!

[Greed! Klavier is still red in the face from anger and it doesn't go away at the sight of the Homunculous, but there are other things there too, like confusion. It's quick to pass and he picks up a stack of papers--among the many stacks to choose from--quickly enough before relocating himself to the other side of the table. This is just to put something between himself and his intruder before taking up another chair and continuing where he left off.] Haven't you heard the expression: leave me the hell alone?

Guts of steel, tryin' to blow me off. [Whatever paperwork stack he's working on doesn't have enough cigarette ashes on it. Greed fixes that, stretching his arm across the table to ash, flicking his cigarette right over the top of the stack with a motion insisting he look up and look him in the eye properly.]

[He's not going to let Greed get the best of him, hasn't he already humiliated the attorney enough? No. He'll simply growl at the ashes and pick up his stack of papers to shake them off. He has no intention of looking at you properly right now, it'll just upset him.

Now where's his pen.]

Isn't that a little conceited? My working doesn't have anything to do with you or blowing you off. Now I'm just a little busy.

[A hand smacking down on top of the pile should be a little harder to deal with.] You got a secretary who won't take a day off at knife-point. [It's an exaggeration; he never drew a weapon on her, but it does well to paint himself as a bad guy. The attorney loves his job, even if he's burying himself in menial tasks of it, now. A prosecutor needs a villain to do anything meaningful.] Doin' her work for her's pretty rude. What's she gonna have to do when she comes back around, huh?

[And since Greed's hand is in the way Klavier will sign and initial right on top of it. You've always wanted his autograph, Greed, confess, and his penmanship is gorgeous.] And yet, I'm sure she dealt with you as best as she knew how [Klavier knows better, the only danger his secretary was in was the danger of Greed's lecherousness. So he rolls his chair away from his table investing his interest in a nearby filing cabinet.] It's my work and I'm the boss. I think she'll live.

[No respect. His hand twitches; he's tempetd to shield over, as a pen to the hand can be unexpectedly painful, even if it's not exactly bamboo torture, but instead his fingers curl, crumpling the paper in frustration before reaching out to nab the other's collar, pulling him viciously across the table he wanted between them.] Oi. [Yank, face to face.] At this rate in about one hour, I'm gonna be a criminal on yer world, in yer jurisdiction. Tresspassing, assault, maybe kidnapping. You okay with that?

[Fortunately it's a ballpoint, so it's not as painful as it could be, keeping in mind that it's Klavier and he would never intentionally cause anyone physical harm. Irritation, annoyance, and frustration is always a possibility however, but he's kind enough not to press down too hard. You still have his name on your hand though.

Apart from the attorney's complete neglect or inability to look at Greed at all, there is breathless surprise when he's jerked back across the table. Klavier has himself braced on one knee so he's not in an awkward position on the table. The other leg is stretched out, his foot resting on his chair. His hands instinctively came up to plant themselves on Greed's shoulder. Even though they are face to face the ex-rocker looks Greed in the eye long enough for the shock to fade before casting them down.] What do you want from me? First you tell me we're done and now you're here when I'm...busy...

Busy. Fn. [Shock meets a stare too searing to match his dispassionate drawl. Klavier’s lowered eyes see Greed's grip try to tighten on his collar as if to take it out on the fabric, his forearm shivering with a repressed urge to pull him off the desk entirely. For now, he doesn’t do more than hold him in place, but if Klavier so much as tries to put any more distance between them, he’ll only be pulled closer.] Yer such a lying piece of shit. Ain't you supposed to be the Wonder Boy who can do it all?

Busy...[Klavier's clothing couldn't be any more or less askew, so Greed's attempt at permanently putting wrinkles into his collar doesn't give him the urge to brush the other off so that he can smooth it out. That meant he would have to remove his hands from the other man's shoulder and that was the only thing keeping him from losing his balance, he didn't need to butt heads with the Homunculus, not literally.]...Even a guy like me would have trouble breathing with someone standing on his throat. My life isn't so perfect that I'm not prone to having a work load from time to time. Anyway...if you're done insulting me and humiliating me, tell me why you're here?

Bullshit. [Klavier's given another good shake, Greed leaning back to avoid an awkward facial collision.] You are just so... full... of shit! [And the distance is closed again, forehead to forehead, with harsh, deep breaths.] Why'm I here... Heh... Why the hell're you here, doing the kinda shit you always push off on people like her, huh? Or're you gonna say this [His free hand slams on the desk again, flinging a few sheets of paper in the air for emphasis.]'s important now?

Hu...[He's having a hard time keeping his eyes from pinwheeling while he's being shaken like the human maraca by Greed. And when their forehead's are pressed together it becomes even more complicated not looking at Greed. It' pretty obvious why the ex-rocker didn't want to look at him in the first place, it's a bit unnerving for him to show someone when he's genuinely hurt. There's no physical pain, but his eyes are pretty good at expressing his anguish regardless. How could he look Greed in the face? But it was like the Homunculus was trying to get his attention.]...If you have it in you to be direct with me, then I might answer you. Why are you so interested in how I work...why are you here?

[Greed only gets angrier every time he's asked. The ever-so-busy attorney has to know what kind of face he's making, if he can't look at him like that. He gives another jerk on his collar in frustration, his free hand rearing back as if seriously considering maiming him if he asks just one more time.] Just...ghh... [It looks like an incoming attack. The the hand grabbing his face and twisting through blonde hair certainly isn't gentle or affectionate. The hand on his collar creeps up to the other side of his face, more intent than ever to force direct eye contact.] Just fucking get it already!

Aa...[Klavier felt himself tense up before he could stop it, feeling that there may very well be a serious threat here, that Greed might actually attack him. It wasn't impossible. It doesn't help that even when those fingers threaded through his hair they were a little painful, but at least there was nothing to mess up. He really wasn't sure what to do with Greed now, this wasn't familiar to him at all.] I'm really going to misunderstand you if you don't say anything properly [Which is pretty clear when the ex-rocker mashes his lips against Greed's, probably the most irrational thing he's done all day. What else could he do? The only way the Homunculus was letting him go was forward and so it makes sense...or maybe he's just exceptionally tired.]

[Greed retaliates by jerking him harder into the harsh clash of lips, introducing teeth and tongue into the mix with a frustrated growl. Even for having just put down a cigarette, the flavor of nicotine is overpowering, the result of chain smoking the count down to finally deciding to show up in person. It's hardly savory, and his attitude doesn't soften at all; the grip on the other's smooth face is downright bruising, fingers strewn in his hair. It's still not enough. His hands move, trying to find a stronger, surer grip, another way to pull him into it harder. His arms and the rest of his body can't seem to decide between pulling Klavier completely across the desk or just wrestling him down to it.]

[If Klavier were a more habitual smoker then he would probably be getting his nicotine fix from this kiss. As it was, he didn't really care how potent Greed's flavor was, and seemed more intent on wrapping his lips around Greed's tongue and sucking it into his mouth. It's almost a relief that Greed's attitude is the same or else the attorney would be even more confused about what's going on. It's a miracle Greed's fist isn't in his face already. Klavier thought the Homunculus was pissed off because of Issei, so why was he here? Klavier still couldn't figure out what he wanted, this just seemed to be the logical thing to do...and the logic behind that logic was another labyrinth of complexities that he didn't want to contemplate right now. To ease the burden on his body the prosecutor pulls his other leg up onto the table, arranging himself into a squatting position that felt a little less awkward than having one leg hanging off the edge of the table. It was one less thing to think about while he worked his mouth against Greed's]

[His tongue probed and drew back, alternating between trying to suck his entire mouth down and trying to orally smother him. Even as the growl dies down, it's a loud kiss, artlessly moist. Angling Klavier's face however his whims drive him, one grip loosens bit by bit, starting with his thumb stroking at the side of his cheek, feeling the movements of their mouths together. The bangs surrounding his face are pushed back then, fingers groping along his scalp, cupping the back of his neck, the crook of his arm moving until his elbow his half hooked around his shoulder. The other hand keeps a firm grip on his chin, keeping his head angled back in case he gets any ideas such as trying to gain leverage by using the desk for a height boost.

Not giving him the freedom to move into or away from it, the kiss become more externally focused. Greed begins to draw away, more and more shallow kisses, of increasingly short duration. If this keeps up, it's going to get messy. Complicated. It's a situation that has far too little to do with lust and entirely too much want for his comfort.

He's known it for a while. They need to stop doing this. Even if he's convinced Klavier doesn't have the capacity to read into actions, even if neither of them are prone to necessitating anything intimate with raw physical pleasure, there's a matter of his own principles.

And then it's mouth to mouth again, hard enough to make teeth clash, full on and greedy. Why kid himself?]

[With Greed maintaining the pace and most aspects of what was currently just confusing the ex-rocker, namely the kiss, Klavier was doing his best just to hold his own. It's difficult trying to suppress grunts and strangled moans that see fit to bubble to the surface no matter how he struggled to swallow them back. Actually Greed was making the whole swallowing thing difficult anyway so it was useless trying to keep himself checked. That wasn't his only problem, his body was irritatingly honest, responding to particularly pleasant touches with involuntary shivers.

Damn.

And with his head angled back Klavier uncurls his legs out from underneath himself, readjusting into a sitting position that was more comfortable and required even less balance on his part. Though that also meant he had to cradle Greed between his legs, a price he would pay for the sake of comfort that would allow him to focus on the coarse medium of their lips. That, and it made tempting the Homunculus back into his mouth with nips and swipes of his own tongue his priority.

It was only after several moments, during which time he was pretty sure he had tested the agility of his own jaw strength to it's limits, did Klavier have to withdraw. Kissing Greed was hard work and he was out of breath, he felt himself gasping for it while tangling with Greed's tongue, and now he needed it.]

[Resisting temptation is against his principles almost as much as doing anything of this sort with any sort of meaning beyond itself. Klavier's taste is subtle compared to what he's been inhaling for the past few hours, but he seeks it out just as doggedly, giving no easy retreat. Klavier's attempt to withdraw is only met with a possessive rumble in his throat. The hand on his chin keeps him in place for one more solid swipe through his mouth before letting the kiss break by smearing along the corner of his mouth, nipping down his jawline. He watches the other man gasp for breath the hand on his chin groping along the side of his face, through his hair until settling on his rising and falling chest.

There's a split second of thought, unusual hesitation. With a sharp inhale, Greed pushes him backwards onto the desk, bending forward to loom over him, one hand planted above the other's shoulder as he stares down, insistent on having eye contact again.

His gaze is still hot, the same banked, frustrated rage he came in with. Every issue will still exist; no matter how hard he bends him over the desk, that hurt face is going to come up again when it's over. None of it's going to make any sense, no matter how earnestly he tries to express it with action. It's not the kind of heat that would normally go along with the hand undoing the buttons of his shirt. The look would better suit ripping the fabric out of the way; it's a forced dexterity and focus, keeping his fingers nimble despite his mind wanting to run in three directions at once. With his torso bared, his palm presses against him and glides up hard muscle slowly, forcing himself not to rush into a groping frenzy. There's the same intensity in that slow motion; there's a difference between measured and gentle. It's not awkward enough to be Greed's variant of the latter.]

[Unfortunately Klavier's shtick is trying to make sense of the insensible and presently he's trying to thread together sleeping with Issei, to Greed's dismissal of him the evening before, to his strange frustration now. The ex-rocker wasn't sure if he had really done something wrong, despite being the one who felt wronged in the first place, or if this was Greed being whimsical. Certainly there were some far fetched answers, but they seemed unlikely to Klavier as they were counterintuitive to things his companion has said in the past. Well, the first thing that came to mind was that Issei was Greed's Issei and Klavier was Greed's Klavier and the two should not mix. It would explain the possessiveness, but it wouldn't explain the repetition of "you're not mine" and "I don't want you" that came from the Homunculus. Unless Greed was lying, but that also couldn't be the case because he didn't lie, so as much as it hurt his brain to think about it he was back at point zero.

Or rather he was flat on his back, unexpectedly, against the table with Greed looking down at him in his temper. The attorney can't figure out why he's so intent on having eye-contact. The situation has such an intensity about it that he's finding it almost difficult to maintain that contact. It's a cross between anxiety and anticipation, with his chest feeling tight and his breathing coming in just as short as it had been while he was kissing Greed. He could also feel his heart hammering away in his chest, wondering idly if it would break his ribs. Clearly he wants to say something and he opens his mouth to try...but the words get caught right there and he finds himself at a loss for what to say. That's when the eye-contact breaks, drifting to the side to find a clue, but there's nothing in the scattered mess on his desk, the wall of guitars, the large screens glaring down at him, or in the floor-to-ceiling picture windows overlooking the city.]

[Unsure what to expect when he sees the other's lips part for what looks like more than a breath, tension and relief's contrast surges when nothing comes of it. Whatever was going to be said doesn't have to be dealt with, but there's still something there.

Pressed firmly against his chest, Greed's hand feels his heartbeat; was he always this worked up before a slightly rough round? He doesn't have it in him to tell the other to relax or to try to soothe him. His touch moves up his collarbone, tempted to grab his face and demand the other look at him, damn it; but there's no special reason for that, is there? No important one, anyway. Instead, his hand pushes the opened shirt down Klavier's shoulder. The hand on the desk above his shoulder slips beneath the blonde's neck, fingertips teasing his hairline as his weight sinks onto his forearm. His tongue laps up the line of a tendon in his neck before his lips find a hammering pulse and attack it as fiercely as he did his lips.

Once the shirt is pushed as far down on one side as he can make it go with its wearer pinned on his back, Greed's hand rakes down his side, getting faster, slowly giving in to the urge to be quick and possessive rather than methodical and exacting. He still resists the urge to go right for his pants, slipping behind him and fingering the line of his spine towards the small of his back, encouraging him to lift his hips as his own weight sinks down between his spread legs.]

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