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Her waggling fingers in front of his beer made him swat at her. His eyebrows pulled together and he pulled the bottle closer to him, chomping his teeth near her fingers, "Nope nope nope. Is mine, dun touch." Perhaps he should have been cut off, but he was a grown man. He could hold his alcohol!
His face scrunched up more when she set the glass of water in front of him. Water with lemon was not a man's drink. Regular water wasn't even a man's drink. Alcohol; hefty, dark, chewy beer was a man's drink. His eyes lifted up to hers and he shook his head, "No, it doesn't. I like my beer. I'll stick with my beer. Please, Luxxie?" He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically at her and grinned.
To be honest, Damian probably couldn't have answered whether he'd always been a disgusting perv or if it was a newer development. Most of the time he couldn't tell if he was joking either. He had this terrible problem of saying whatever came to mind and he never quite learned how to filter it. The problem only got worse when alcohol was involved and most of the time it was.
When she threatened to cut him off, Damian gasped and his hand flew to his chest dramatically, "Excuse you. What makes you think I'm not taking it easy?" He was certain that his words came out clearly, but there was definitely a slur to them. What could he say, he liked his beer hefty and with that came a higher alcohol content. Nothing to complain about in his mind. He rested his chin in his hand and narrowed his eyes at her. She had all the power being the bartender. It was hardly fair that his little Luxxie-boo could cut him off whenever she saw it necessary.
Damian suddenly grinned, "You know, you look the same even with beer goggles on. Which doesn't sound like a compliment, but it super is. You can't get better looking with beer goggles because you're already the prettiest damn thing ever. You know that? I think you should know that if you don't." He was rambling now, but he found it difficult to stop.
Damian snorted loudly before bursting out into an overly dramatic laugh, "Class...me...you...lady...I can't even." He sputtered between his fit of giggles. If she thought either of them was capable of class, she was delusional. He could barely stomach the idea of it. He'd done his fair share of class when he was in the military, what with the military balls and such. That was as far as class went for him. "You're funny, Lena, I'll give you that."
His face contorted when she slapped his ass and he released her, "Oi, none of that. Not yet anyway." He bumped her with his hip and shoved his hands in his pockets, "When did my fantasy start getting so demanding? I always thought she was meant to be silent until given reason to make noise." He glanced at her sideways and smirked, "You'll just have to wait and see, babe. And seriously, we need a better word. Pineapple didn't really work last time."
"That's incredibly true, you're as fucked up as I am for being my friend," No judgment on his part though. Who could blame her for wanting to be best friends with him? He was a hoot and a half of fun ninety-nine percent of the time.
Damian snorted loudly, "Fucking liar. You wouldn't know if I was good at sex if I was ugly, silly." He rapped on her head and smirked. The truth was, if either of them had been less than pleasing to the eye, who was to say they'd ever crossed each other's paths? He prided himself in his taste of women, while they were all probably batshit crazy, they were hot. He was a terrible person, it was true, but at least he didn't pretend to be anything else.
He glanced down at her and shrugged in agreement. She wasn't wrong, chasing wasn't really is M.O. But he might have chased her if she wasn't easy enough to get to his house. She was worth the chase, easy to bone and lacking emotional connection. "That's a fair point. It's like I plucked you from my wildest fantasies," He rolled his eyes and gave her shoulders a squeeze.
Damian smirked at the reaction. Even if she had, he had a feeling she'd react similarly. Talking about it was so wrong to most people. But where he was concerned, it didn't really matter. Sex was just sex, it was easy and careless and didn't have to have anything tied to it if it was done correctly. He was the hit it and quit it type though, and those were the only types that he agreed to an arrangement with. Lux didn't strike him as such, but he still flirted mercilessly regardless.
"Poor guy. I'm sure it'll happen eventually though," He shrugged, not paying any mind to her mumbled words. If she felt he was worthy of bringing up, clearly he must have been worth having sex with. Perhaps that was just his twisted way of thinking.
Damian tilted his beer back against his lips and took a drink. He figured she deserved it though, having sex with the guy that she seemed so infatuated with. The girl was dying, best to have as much fun as she could in whatever amount of time she had left. He wasn't one to judge for those kinds of things. "It's too bad I'm not into guys, that'd probably be a fun little three way." He was drunk, it was starting to become very clear that he was drunk.
"Oh fuck off, you love that I'm your best friend," He shrugged and gave her a wink. "It could be worse, I could be ugly." And wouldn't that have just been a tragedy for the both of them? Damian never would have been able to touch her if he was ugly because his personality definitely didn't make up for anything. In turn, she'd miss out on the best sex of her life, pity really.
He let her slip through his fingers and towards the exit. Her teasing did nothing for him, although, to be fair, he was pretty sure he'd be bored if she wasn't witty or a tease. Rocking back on his heels, Damian shoved his hands in his pockets and followed after her. He kept a bit of distance between them, if only to give him a better view of her. It was sleazy, but she was someone he didn't have to worry about thinking poorly of him. She knew exactly what he was like.
Once they made it to the exit, he picked up the pace and slung his arm across her shoulder once he was beside her. "Does it make you feel better when you walk away from me, so that I have to chase you? I feel like that's such a girl thing to do."
Only three, Damian couldn't keep the smirk from his face. The least amount of stitches he'd ever gotten was still in the double digits. But, he wasn't the brightest bulb either and he often went big with his reckless acts.
"I have more scars from stitches than I do from anything else. I've never been stabbed though, you've got me there," It wasn't to say he hadn't seen anyone get stabbed. He saw a lot of things being in the military for as long as he was. Not to mention the few years that he'd been a cop. Stabbings, bullet wounds, car accidents, there were a number of really fucked up things that he'd seen in his life. After a while, he supposed that he'd just desensitized himself to it. He had to, otherwise it would have messed him up more than he already was.
Damian gave her a once over again and he pursed his lips, "It's gotta be kind of nice only seeing photographs of the horrible shit people do, rather than the actual scene itself. It has to be easier, doesn't it?"
"Buzzkill," He didn't blame her. It wasn't as though he unleashed her on all of the guys that he worked with, although many of them made comments whenever they heard her name. Lena perhaps wasn't as brutal as he was, but she was harsh enough that he knew she wouldn't put up with the things the guys did. And he didn't want to have to kick anyone's ass for her either. "I thought that was the whole reason you brought me here, hooking your best friend up with some pretty girls." Even though he was already hooking up with the same pretty girl he was speaking to.
The way she dropped the 'L' word so freely made his nostrils flare and he could feel it in his stomach. He promptly ignored it and focused instead on the brief way her lips pressed to his. He was to be on his best behavior at her work place. Damian grimaced, when she started to move away from him. "You know, in some countries, being a tease is punishable by heavy spanking." His lips quirked up at the sides.
Before she could move further away, he grabbed her arms and pulled her back to him, "Does that mean you're coming over? I've got the place all to myself." Save for his dog, but Koda knew when to make himself scarce. "It's the least you could do after denying me action with the rest of the crew here," He shrugged, his hand tracing down her side to rest on her hip.
Damian covered his mouth with his hand as his eyebrows shot up. He could admit, he didn't see that one coming. Although as she explained the story, he could understand it. He'd been a reckless child that liked to run with scissors and set things on fire in the microwave. Boys were just a little on the wild side. But he hadn't been stabbed nor had he stabbed anyone from his childhood.
"That...that one got me. I'll give you that. How many stitches?" He dropped his hand and tapped his fingers on the countertop. In the nearly thirty years that he'd been alive, stitches were nothing to him anymore. He'd had countless injuries with dozens of stitches a piece. After a while, he wasn't even queasy over watching them do it. It was actually pretty calming.
He pressed his bottle of beer to his lips and tipped it back.
When she pointed out that he was being weird, his defenses went up and he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. Maybe he had given a little away that he wanted her to be happy. She may have just been his warm body at night, but she was close enough to know his kid and that made him look at her differently than most of the other conquests he had. He had to care about her in some regard, even if it gave way to the emotions he buried beneath alcohol and sarcasm.
"You're right, that was weird. Fuck if I care that you enjoy it. I'm just here for the skimpy outfits," He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a sleazy smirk. That was the childish thing about Damian, no one could point out his feelings without him closing them back up ten times tighter than before. Rarely did he make the mistake of leaving them out in the open for long. It didn't do him any good when he did that.
He looked around again, seeking out a distraction and finding one in one of the bartenders. "So since you work here, you can get me numbers of the other girls, yeah?" He turned back to her and smiled.
That's what they all said. No judgment, ever. It seemed unlikely. Especially since he was probably the easiest person to judge. His life skills were bogus, his morals were nonexistent and he was generally a mess. What wasn't there to judge? Add to that he was a father even though he had no clue how to be one, and well, he was prime pickens for it. Damian didn't hassle her though, he figured she of all people had all of the ammunition in the world to judge him if she wanted to. She probably just chose not to.
"Oh you love it," He was not dense enough to believe that she actually enjoyed the nicknames he had for her. Babe and baby less than the other he figured, but old habits died hard. Besides, at least when he called her that it wasn't meant to be degrading, not the way it was when he used it on everyone else. He tipped the beer towards her in a thankful gesture before bringing it to his lips and taking a long swig. In the midst of his drink, the two words she spoke he knew meant something, he just didn't know what he was supposed to get from it. He? Who was this he and why was he worth mentioning? Only a few moments had to pass before he figured it out.
The French guy that was drooled over by everyone at the academy. The one guy that Lux even seemed remotely into in some kind of way. Damian had heard about him, pretended like it went in one ear and out the other, but he retained the information that he needed to. "Did you boink him yet? As a welcome back gift?" It was crass, of course, but that was the big question everyone always wanted to know. And Lux, well, she was the innocent one. He liked to think she would be upfront with him when that changed.
His eyebrow arched at her teasing and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving her a once over in the outfit she'd chosen for the show. He supposed it was fitting to her, as was the music that she'd chosen to dance to. "Well, you did say there would be girls and booze, which happen to be my two favorite things, ya know." It didn't take much to please him.
Damian offered a shrug at her question, not really sure what answer she was looking for. Of course he enjoyed it, she was dressed in minimal clothing and was purposefully drawing attention to her assets. But was he supposed to say that out loud, or tell her that he'd thought her dancing was spot on and she hadn't missed a single step? He had to laugh at the thought and he tilted his head, "I mean, it was good. Seems like a cool place and all. I'm digging the absinthe vibes for sure."
He leaned forward a bit, "But more importantly, what do you think, Lena? All that matters is that you enjoy it."
Damian pursed his lips and nodded, "Yup, okay, I can accept that. He's terrifying and I'm a sissy because he's terrifying. Sounds about right to me, Buttercup." He polished off his beer at that. When the man could make Damian a mall cop with a single word, well, he was going to go with terrifying. It didn't mean he wasn't a great person or anything, it just meant he could literally crush Damian's job nuts if he wanted to.
When she leaned on the bar closer, he narrowed his eyes at her. He knew what she was doing, using her assets to mess with him. It usually worked, he had to admit, but he'd never withheld any of the feelings he had towards her. Or rather, he played them off as jokes to mask the sincerity. "Any way you'd like to, babe. Just not all judgey. I get judgey from everyone else, I don't need it from you, too." He booped her nose again and leaned back. "Mind getting me another beer, baby?"
Damian had very few people he ever let get attached to him on an emotional level. With his history, he supposed he had trouble accepting that someone would want to. Add onto that his line of work where something could happen to him and the one close friend that he had having such a short lifespan with the exact power that he had, it left him very little chance to want to be close to someone. But he also didn't offer up an explanation to those he did keep at arms length. People like Lena.
He'd known her for a little while and he'd been immediately attracted to her on a physical level. It was hard not to be, she exuded confidence and knew that she had just as much control over the situation as he did. But it was dangerous to connect with her further than flings and hookups. It wasn't that he feared that he would fall in love with her, he'd made that mistake once before and wasn't about to make it again. It was just giving her the fuel to ruin his life more than he'd managed to do all on his own. Personal information led to emotional attachment and he refused to go through being bailed on again.
Letting her know about Jace and for her to meet him, that was something he hadn't quite planned, but he didn't regret it. Jace had adored her and she seemed to do pretty well with him. That was about as bad as it could get. Now if she left, it wouldn't affect him, but it would affect his son. She'd been hinting and nudging him about the newest club that had just opened on the first of the month. He'd shot down most of her attempts to get him to come, although he was intrigued by the idea of women dancing scantily clad.
After about an hour of arguing with himself, he decided he would just go. What was the worse that could happen? There was alcohol and a pretty girl dancing, life couldn't get much better than that. He sat through the show and applauded when the moment was allotted. Once she finished dancing, he stood up to try and go find her. As he was walking towards the backstage, she walked right into him and he held his hands out to catch her, "Whoa there, watch where you're throwing elbows, Lena."
