RP Example 2
This is my one and only Top Character. Killian. And hes a bloody psychopath, and I do love him.
This was not where he was supposed to end up. He hadn't even been quite sure how he got here. Especially how be got here without his crew. He remembered a lot of fighting, two other ships on the water with him- his unfortunately sat between those two said ships. And his happened to be the only one that didn’t have Magic flying from its deck at the others. His men were still fighting valiantly, well as much as a pirate could. They fought hard, more afraid of their captain killing them than of the other two ships if truth be told. Killian Jones was not a gentle pirate. It happened to be why they were attacked like this, he hadn't expected the other ship captains to snoop so low as to go and get magic to try and defeat him.
The fight seemed never-ending, but somehow they were winning now. It wasn't until a spell from both ships came flying at his ship at once and smashed into each other did things change. And fuck how they changed. His ship was torn from that world- no, not world exactly. From that time. His crew had been ripped away from him as well and he hadn't a clue what happened to them. All he knew was that his ship landed in the harbor here, ruining more than just one boat with its entrance and impressive size. It hadn’t been quite nice on the docks either, most of them taken out with his ship as well. He had been lucky he had been able to still get off his ship.
That was months ago now. Rumor of his mysterious entrance had traveled fast, almost as fast as the rumors about him. Almost. It hadn’t taken long for people to figure out not to cross the man. When he first arrived and realized what had happened, if someone had so much as look at him wrong they ended up with a bullet in their head. He didn't know much, but he knew guns. He knew guns, anything with a blade, rum, and the sea. That was about it.
Cops had shown up of course, and Killian had muttered something about loving nothing more ‘than to kill all the bloody sheriff's of this time’. He was arrested that first day, he had escaped not long after that. For weeks it was like a game of cat and mouse, the only time it being on pause was when he would tire of playing it and go to his ship instead, taking her out on the water. They only tried to catch him out on the water the first time- it didn't take them long to figure out there was no way anything they had was about to catch the Jolly Roger.
The only reasons more cops weren't dead was because he found the game entertaining. He didn't kill them when they got too close to be able to arrest him- because he never stayed locked up for long no matter what they tried- he killed them when they either pissed him off somehow or they tried killing him. They stopped trying to kill him pretty quickly. He didn't just take out cops when they did, he took put anyone around them too. It wasn't worth the risk. After seven weeks, most of the cops around found even chasing him anymore not worth the risk anymore. They were never going to get him locked up For good, he escaped too quickly. And they'd be dead before they'd get a chance to kill him. He knew guns, and knew them well. Shooting them, and avoiding their bullets when shot at himself.
Day one of month five, he groaned in annoyance. It was night's like tonight he missed his little cat and mouse game with the cops. Being on the sea was settling his soul and he was fucking bored. The dangerous pirate had somehow still easily been able to seduce men when he felt like it, the danger could work in his favour. He found long ago that men and women alike were drawn to the danger, weather it be for sex or to join his crew had been no matter, he always found someone that wanted him in some way wherever they made port. Men being attracted to the danger hadn t changed, only now it was always for sex- joining in on killing with him wasn't something people wanted to do here and he was just fine with that. He didn't want a crew here. He wanted a crew there. He wanted to be there. But tonight…. Even getting laid didn't seem like a good enough distraction.
He always brought his ship back to the same place that he had landed. He didn't much feel like exploring this time. Besides, pirating wasn't exactly a career option here. Turns out killing people was though, which he had found more than entertaining when he found out.
Most people still called him the pirate, despite him being a contract killer here and not technically a pirate. But then again, once a pirate, always a pirate. He had money here now, he found a place to stay here. A little house by the sea, about a twenty minute walk from his ship. He had bought it outright. He did find things in this time useful, like electricity for example, but it didn't make him miss home any less. Despite his house- he still preferred to crash on his ship some nights. Night's where he went to the pub that was only a three minute walk from his ship.
He pushed open the door to now usual haunt, the bartender catching sight of the man in the leather jacket before he reached the bar and had his glass of rum ready for him when he sat down, killian threw the little plastic card at him. It was both a bloody ridiculous thing to keep money and actually rather convenient. Part of him missed hearing golf coins clattering together at his hip, but this was easier. The first man he had hired him to kill had actually taught him about banks here and how money worked here and about that little plastic card. She had wanted her husband dead. She had also wanted him- but that was so not happening. He would be dead before he would ever be desperate enough to sleep with a woman.
He found he didn't mind her company though, nor she his. She was how he had finally started to learn about this time and how things worked here. He would refuse to ask her any questions, but she always seemed to answer the ones he didn't ask after telling her something that happened during the days he hadn't seen her. He hadn't seen her in a week now. Even hanging out with the first person he could actually stand here didn't sound appealing. Fucking nothing did. He sighed in irritation, scratching at the denim covering his legs. Hannah had taken him shopping early on in their meetings. He did have to admit to liking the clothes here. He loves his leather, which was every single item he owned before, but these were comfortable and a lot easier to move in. He only had a white t-shirt on under his leather jacket thatched owned for nearly ten years now. His pirates luck hung around his neck still, the skull and sword easily visible against the white fabric on his chest. He was sure it was the only reason the cops had not been to actually kill him. It protected him on the sea back home, it protected him from cops here.
Blimey. It had been a rough night, Matty and the boys had been at the whole drinking thing all day, he wasn’t even sure when they’d started, sometime around ten o’clock he was thinking. They’d kept it at home at first, the four of them drinking whatever pleased them. There had been shenanigans, lots of them, in fact, George and him having been at the dead center of it all. First there had been plenty of music, him with his violin, the boys with their instruments, but they got too drunk to play and so jamming had turned into horsing around. Wrestling, pranks and then they’d all decided to go out. Of course, they’d all gone and gotten ready, him and George hanging out together while Ross and Adam had taken off to their place to get ready, calling Waugh around to join in. At first him and George hadn’t got shit done, just horsing around while drinking more, pouring out their closets to decide what to wear. Then came the trying the things on, doing their hair like a fucking group of girls. Luckily, Matthew had great hair and once he’d showered he’d just let it dry naturally, the heavy, thick ringlets dangling around his face like some high class hooker from the vintage era.
Once out of the shower, the brunette had set up his vinyl player, putting on some good ole eighties rock, one band after another, after another. He’d helped George with his hair, they’d basically dreaded it, because it looked fuckin’ whacked as Hell, the male having like that, Matty imagined him to look like the guy out of that caveman movie. Encino Man, that was it! He’d helped his mate with his outfit next, going with a vintage shirt and some fuckin’ out there lookin’ pants. Whatever made his mate happy, George always did have a bit more of a seventies flare than he did. Matthew liked the classic vintage, throwing old school renaissance with modern leather jackets and tight jeans, he was always about his black skinny jeans, but it was mostly because he could pull them off. He hated those pants whenever he bought a new pair, knowing he’d have to wear them in and that they wouldn’t be as comfortable for at least a couple week of wearing them, without washing them.
George hadn’t taken that long to get ready, honestly, but it had taken long enough, the two of them polishing off a bottle of wine before they finally started to get Matthew ready. He’d picked out his clothing pretty quickly, going his usual route before throwing on some rings and some boots to finish the ensemble. He’d gone and painted his nails then, in between cleaning out his last glass of wine, his mate George doin’ somethin’ fancy with his face. He knew, sort of, that it was make up, but had no idea what it looked like or what his mate had actually done with it. He’d not take much notice at all, really, just told him not to get it on his nice white shirt or he’d be kicking his arse. Of course, they’d both been ready to go when Caroline had rung. She was George’s long term girlfriend, she’d been around for years now, not usually coming between them. But she’d been away at some holiday resort with her parents in Germany, and even though she lived most of the time in America, she was home to stay with her grandparents here in England. Of course his mate couldn’t turn that down, he hadn’t seen her in a while and Matthew wasn’t about to take the chance away from his best friend. He’d told him to go, that he’d meet up with Ross, Adam and Waugh later on, that he was okay by himself.
So here he was, all by his god damned self because he’d decided to go wandering without his mates, he always felt like a third wheel around those three anyway, with the weird love triangle they seemed to be in. Ross liked Waugh and Adam liked Ross, of course Waugh really liked Ross, and Ross was sort of close with Adam too. It was pretty messed up, but whatever worked for them, they all seemed happy enough about it, none of them ever fought about it. He’d wandered to a few different pubs at first, the first few, being entirely too full of twats for him to even bother. The third had some sort of old person gathering goin’ on and that was just weird as anythin’, though he’d stayed for a half an hour, letting the old geezers buy him drinks and listened to some of their stories before he excused himself. He’d come to one not far from the water, actually, the smell of the sea lightly in the breeze and that had been oddly nice. When him and the boys had free time, they always took a boat out with a bottle of wine and just… got away from the world for a little while. It was nice. He’d stood at the door for a little bit, dragging his slender fingers through the mass of ringlets before he’d pushed the door open and stepped inside, absentmindedly touching at the open buttons of his white shirt,
Ah, this was nice. Why hadn’t he been here before? It wasn’t full, but there were plenty of patrons hanging around, upstairs and down. The inside was quite a bit old fashion, but that really drew him in, the slender male, stepping past a group of loud sailors, eyeing them up and down and even playfully saluting them. He went straight to the bar, at first ignoring the male that sat there, stepping up onto the barstool to get himself some height, throwing a charming grin at the barkeep. He leaned forward to plop his ass down on the cushioned seat and then finally glanced over to the man next to him. He wanted to seem cool at first and pointed his thumb at the guy without even looking at what he was drinking. “I’ll ‘ave what this guy is ‘aving,” he told the male, only then glancing down at the cup and hesitating, leaning past the dark haired male slightly to sniff the air. Woah. Pulling back with a wrinkling of his nose, Matthew shook his head then. “Nope, I change my mind, only pirates drink rum, I’ll take a bottle of yer best red, mate, a nice big glass too,” he told the male, handing over his card and sliding his cotton covered forearm against the bar, leaning into it some, his eyes finally flickering back to the rum drinking male. He’d been able to get a good look then, and shit, he was fuckin’ gorgeous. Blue eyes, dark hair and kind of a charming, dangerous air to him, the smaller male’s mouth feeling a bit dry just looking at him.
It didn’t matter that this guy didn’t seem interested in anything around him, Matthew just stared at him for a moment, only looking up when the barkeep came back with his wine, the younger male half filling the glass and bringing it up to his full lips, taking a mouthful and putting it back down. “ ‘aven’t see you ‘ere before,” he told them male sitting next to him, only to flash him a pretty grin. “In fact I ain’t been ‘ere before at all, I find myself t’ be lucky that I came ‘ere this time.”
Killian had quickly drank thoughts first drink that had been given to him, leaning back against the bar at the time and eyes raked over the crowd for the first time since he got there, looking for anyone, anything at all that looked like it would distract him from his own thoughts for awhile. From the way his soul ached being here. He didn't belong in this time, that much he was sure of. Hannah may have made him look like he fit in more now having got the pirate to finally accept to wear something other the his own clothing he already owned that was on his ship, something other than leather. It didn't matter, Killian knew he didn't belong. Everyone else already knew it too.
There had been a few times when he came into the bar that the bloody loud magic box behind the bartender was on and he had actually seen his own face gracing the screen, along with the words Armed and Dangerous. The first time he had paid attention to it for a moment, and listened to the lady warn people to stay away from him- to not anger him if they happened to cross paths. It was good advice, he couldn't deny that. Too bad people were stupid. A couple drinks followed him to his ship that night and they were found floating in the water the next day with what looked suspiciously like sword wounds. It was no surprise who had done it. They had come on his ship though without even bothering to ask, and sailor worth his salt knew that was bad form. Any person in the town she have been smart enough to know to stay away from it by now, really, they were asking for those slow deaths. And that's what he had told the cops the next day. That had been right in the middle of their cat and mouse game.
Now Killian would deny it until the day he died, but he was fucking lonely here, in this place where he was constantly finding more things that he didn't understand. Like that portable talking phone he's seen in absolutely everyone's hands. What the he'll was with those things? Hannah had tried to get him to buy one, but he really had no interest in it. Besides, when they weren't staring at the damn things they were talking into them and who did he really have to talk to here? Yup. Lonely. But he was still denying it. He had his ship, he had rum, he had money, and he was still getting laid when he wanted too. What more could he want?
His crew. He didn't always show it, really he almost rarely did, but he cared about each and every man that joined him on his ship. He missed going to pubs with them, gambling and drinking and generally having a good laugh. He ran his ship with an iron fist while on the sea, but he used to let loose a little every once in awhile even on the ship, not doing much different than they would in the pub and gamble around with his crew for awhile. He knew those men. He really hoped they hadn't all been killed when he and his ship got pulled into the rip of time. He was hoping they were either still there, or they ended up being dropped off the rip before he did. That was a lot of men to just die.
Not that he hadn't killed three times as many since he got here. Ah, fuck it. He had thought as he turned back around and raised his glass, silently telling the barkeep for another. If they hadn't done something at the time, which most of them did, they certainly had done something before to warrant their deaths. Some of the braver men on his crew had mentioned once before that he probably killed people a little to hastily sometimes. He had glared at them, his eyes flashing dangerously and saying if that were true, they would all be dead right now before kicking them out of the captain's quarters.
Killian had just set his drink down again from his lips someone came up to the bar to close to him for his liking, he felt his do gets twitching on the glass wanting to grab for his gun already. Even more so when the boy leaned around him to smell his drink. Did this fucking kid actually have a death wish.
“Don't. Not in the bar, Killian.” The barkeep warned him, being one of the two people who regularly called him by his name. It was a shame he could never remember his. He's asked a dozen times already, but he was wasted when he left here- he never remembered and he gave up trying. It wasn't like they actually talked much anyways.
Killian groaned low in his frustration and just took another long drink of the rum. He was clenching his teeth tightly, he couldn't use the gun in here. That was the deal they made. Slamming this kids head against the bar for getting so fucking close wasn't using the gun. He actually relaxed slightly and chuckled lowly when he realized the kid was acting this way because he had no idea who he was. “Aye, I am quite something to look at,” he agreed, actually talking to him but not bothering to look over, just finishing off his rum as ordering another, “Though you're probably the first to actually feel lucky meeting me, lad.” He said honestly. “So you came to pub you've never been too, are talking to a man you have no business talking too, and you think you're perfectly safe right now?” He asked, finally looking over at the other male, finding himself pleasantly surprised at the sight, but it quite change how he was annoyed right now, “Seriously? How wasted are you, kid? And what the bloody hell did you come in here wasted looking for?” He asked a little sharply, honestly a little curious about the answer to that though.
What was this guy’s problem? Matty squinted at him, glancing over at the barkeep questioningly. The man just shook his head and looked away, leaving Matthew even more curious. Hm. He glanced back at the good looking male, licking his lips and turning on his stool to face him some more, leaning his elbow down on the bar, wine held in his other hand. “It’s called bar hopping, it’s a hobby of mine, if y’ must know,” he told him almost haughtily, chin lifting before it dropped again so he could easily drink from his glass. “An’ seriously? Who says things like that now, no business speaking to you? It’s a free world, buddy,” he told him with the slightest grin, hiding it in his glass of wine. This guy was kind of riot, wasn’t he? Acting all tough like he was some big, bad wolf. Ha. He wasn’t scared of anyone, he lived for a bit of danger now, didn’t he? “I may be bloody wasted,” he told him in a silky tone, a leg crossing over the other and almost sending him right off the side of the stool, the male somehow managing to keep his balance, butt shifting on the cushioned seat. “But yer bloody gorgeous.”
A bit bold, perhaps. But he’d had a lot to drink and he didn’t have much shame, honestly. “I came here, t’ get more wasted, plus ‘ave ya been outside? The smell of the sea, this fuckin’ interior, it’s blood legend, let me tell you. I definitely should have been ‘ere before,” he told him, looking over when he saw the barkeep making a cut throat motion. What? No. He wasn’t going to shut up, he had just got started. This guy didn’t have t’ talk to him and he was, he wasn’t going to let the handsome fucker off that easily. Matthew Healy had locked his sights on this guy without even knowing who he was. He reached up to push a thick curl out of his eyes, digging his teeth down into his bottom lip, tasting the fucking make up and not really caring too much, he bet he looked hot.
Taking another mouthful of the wine, the curly-haired male swished the blood red wine around in his class and bloody well batted his eyelashes at the male like a god damned floozy. “And by the way, don’t call me kid, or I’ll start callin’ y’ ‘old man’, and yer too good lookin’ for a nickname like that,” he told him with a soft, almost pouted look. Bringing the glass of wine up to his mouth, he looked around to notice people staring at them and looked quite surprised, leaning forward to the handsome brute glowering there in front of him. “Is it just me, or do these folk have some sort of problem?”
He was right with one of his first impressions of the boy next to him, the boy really did have a fucking death wish. He had never heard of the activity before, bar hopping, but he wasn't stupid and could figure it out. Going from bar to bar by yourself when you're a tiny little thing like this one? You had to either want to die or be fucking crazy. And he could only help with the first problem. “Oh we are far from ‘buddy’s’, laddie,” Killian said between his clenched teeth, almost grinding them. He actually liked this pub, he tried not to fight in the premises. And he usually did okay, people avoided the bar for more than just grabbing a drink when he was in here- which was the exact reason he was sitting alone at the bar when this kid came in. The two people who had been setting at the end of it booked it as soon as he sat down. It didn't bother him if people got a drink around him, the barkeep was quick and they were never there for very long anyways. He drank the last of his third glass of rum, his head finally starting to feel foggy as he set the glass down for a refill, but he did grin at the others words, “Aye, that I am.” He agreed again. The other male had calmed Killian down for the moment with the little compliment.
Killian’s interest was peaked a little more and he gave the boy another quick look over when he had mentioned one of the reasons he liked it here was because of the smell of the sea. He had lived in the sea most his life and now had a house he lived sometimes also on the sea, he understood loving that smell all too well. “It’s my bloody ship you passed on your way to get here, of course I've smelled the sea,” he mumbled the words more to himself than directly to the drunken lad next to him. He really wished the boy would listen to the barkeep after he had given Killian his fourth drink. One more and if the kid was still around he was only getting out of this pub one of two way. Dead by his hand or dragged back to his ship. He couldn't quote figure out which this one would be. If he was smart he would just take the barkeeps warning to heart. Then he was talking again… no. Not smart.
“It's Killian,” he told the boy when he threatened to call him old man and he took another swig of his rum. Part of him knew there were two reasons he actually said it. The Barkeep had said his name once already. And he also said it was because the boy had complimented him again after threatening that. Than again, he was also still breathing after threatening Killian, even if it was with just a teasing nickname for the night. He'd killed people for less. He set down the glass and turned more towards the other when he leaned in and asked that. Yeah, no. He couldn't do this. He was gonna kill the kid if he didn't go away. He was far to blunt and open when he talked, and he talked a lot. “Everyone in this place has the same problem, laddie,” he said, remembering he didn't like ‘kid, “Me.” He told him, quickly reaching out and grabbing a fist full of the boys hair and pulling his head back hard. He knew he was going to do something to him the second he looked at him again. But this…. Grabbing the boy like This could go two ways. He could hurt him. So easily. Grab a knife from his own boot and it against that pretty little throat of his, or…. It was a split second decision and he was honestly surprised at the one he made, his lips covering over the other males in a bruising kiss, keeping him locking in place with the grip in his hair. His tongue licked over the others males lip slightly, tasting his wine there before he was pulling away as suddenly as he had done it. He pulled the other off the stool with the grip on his hair, taking advantage of his surprise as he pushed him towards the dance floor, “Just go away, laddie. You wouldn’t be a me to handle me on a good day and today is not one of those.”
Wine glass still clutched in his hand, Matthew was standing where he’d been left, confused and breathing hard. It wasn’t the only thing that was hard, either, having felt his dick twitch a little in interest at the manhandling. Hn. That had been good, scary, but damned hot. He wasn’t sure what to make of the other male to be honest, his heart racing in his chest. Lifting his glass of wine to his lips, Matty drained the glass in one drink, turning and glancing back at the bar to his bottle. He glanced at Killian, and then at the bottle, back to Killian and then to the barkeep who was briskly shaking his head. Making a face at the male, the slender man walked right back to the bar, but he didn’t much bother Killian, just put his glass down, grabbed the open bottle of wine in his hand, deciding to take it with him. He did however, glance at the rough brute of a man, licking his kiss swollen lips before smirking. “It’s Matty, by the way, gorgeous,,” he told him before gleefully hurrying away before the male could lose his temper at him once more. Then guy was definitely interested and definitely in denial, with that ‘ship’ of his that he had mumbled about, sailing it right down the nile, full speed ahead!
Throat working hard, Matthew tussled his hair and looked back as he was walking away, half hard in his heads. Man, he’d really got lucky today, good or bad day, that man was blasted hot. Despite this being an old fashioned pub, Matty was pleased to find a brightly neoned jukebox in the corner and he dug into his pocket, lifting up the wine bottle to his lips and drinking right from him, pirate style, because whatever, he wasn’t going to dance with a glass in his hand. Looking over the selection of songs, he was surprised to find it pretty up to date, he supposed it needed to be to keep the younger generation coming in and spending their money. He ended up picking a Deadmau5 song called ‘I can’t behave myself’, how appropriate, really. He wasn’t sure he wanted to behave himself after that bruising kiss.
In the end, Matthew ended up slipping off his leather jacket, the thin cotton of his shirt almost see through, half open, but he wanted to show off, hoping that maybe he would be able to keep the male regretting that he’d sent him off. People were looking at him, but he didn’t care just held the bottle of wine up as he started to rock his hips to the beat, his curls bobbing as he started to move. He was a pretty fucking good dancer and he knew it, he did it enough. Music was his fucking passion and so he had no problem just throwing himself into the beat, his hips rolling to the music. He took a swig of the wine as people decided to risk it and join him, the male even looking surprised, but he just carried on, leaning his head back to expose his throat. Despite there being people around, Matty couldn’t take his eyes off Killian, finding his gaze hooded, almost daring the male to turn and come get him. He wondered if the male was scared of intimacy or something, that was fine, he wasn’t looking for a fucking relationship, just, at this point, wanted more of that man’s hands on him. He was surprised when he felt a body pressing up behind him, and his heart skipped a beat, the male insolently leaning back against it, not even looking away for a moment as he practically draped himself backwards, feeling some stranger’s hand actually bravely slipped around to smooth over his flat half exposed stomach. Take the fucking bait, he was willing him to do it, if he had a problem with his talking then there was a very good way of shutting him up.
Killian finished round four almost as soon as he turned back around. He didn't automatically order the fifth one, not since the boy walked back over. He didn't look back at him, even though he could feel his eyes on him. He held back his groan of frustration when the boy spoke again anyways, visibly relaxing when he did walk away this time though. This Matty. God he was not smart to keep pushing him like this! He should have taken one of the dozen hints sent his way and walked the fuck away. Killian told him it wasn't safe to be talking to him from the very start, that was usually the most kind of a warning that anyone would get from him if any at all. Matty had got way more. Why the hell hadn't he hurt the boy? He could see himself doing it, having grabbed his head and smashed it forward without looking away from his drink. But he didn't. He held himself back. Why? Ugh, fuck this. He should just leave now. Go buy a bottle of rum and go back to his ship.
He raised the empty glass for another. The barkeep gave him a wary look. “He's gone, guns away, and I didn't actually hurt him. Just fill the bloody drink,” Killian demanded, getting his way after the man hears that tone in Killian’s voice. The one that clearly stated not to fuck with him, do as he said, or you were dead. He didn't use it often actually. People tended to do things he said before needing too. He didn't give the barkeep a chance to listen any other way. He heard the music starting as he drink was poured and he sighed to himself. He just knew it was the boy. And when the lyrics started, they had Matty’s name dripping off of them. His own too, sure, but that wasn't the point. The point was Matty. That fucking kid!
No, he wasn't a kid. By a long a shot. He was young, sure, younger than him at least. That's why he had changed to just calling him boy or laddie instead. Don't do it, Killian. He's fucking baiting you and You know it. He did too. There was one problem though… he was on drink number five. He turned in his chair a little to look towards the dance floor now dusted with people but his eyes quickly found the one he was looking for, and he felt rage in his gut when he saw someone else's hands on him. He wasn't jealous of this man touching Matty, no. He was just pissed. How dare he think it was okay to do that when Killian had already claimed him with that kiss. Wait… when the kiss become a claim on the boy
He didn't let himself think about though, because he was downing the rest of his drink and pushed himself off the stool, walking with purpose directly to the the dance floor. He reached out and grabbed the man's wrist that was around Matty’s waist without saying a single word, twisting it back and making the guy cry out as he nearly cracked it, his hands instantly off the boy and trying to step back. He wasn't getting off that easy, he was pissed. Pissed and horny and he couldn't exactly punch the kid that caused the initial spark of rage in him tonight. He pulled the man forward almost too easily, “You should feel as though it's your lucky night that I'm not just blowing your brains out right here,” Killian hissed at him, reaching back punching him just once, watching him fall backwards from the force. He almost went at him again, almost grabbed his gun anyways, but he caught sight of Matty from the corner of his eyes and his hand that had been reaching to his gun tucked in the back of his pants stopped, changing his mind and he let the arm fall to his side. “You coming, laddie?” He asked, not waiting for an answer as he started to walk away towards the door to leave, fully intent on taking him back to his ship now.
Holy shit. Matty glanced at the man on the floor and back up at the retreating male, his heart racing. It was good, he hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. It only took him mere seconds to start moving, grabbing up his jacket and following after Killian. He did pause to grab his card from the barkeep only to be surprised to get two of them, his eyes dropping to see that the man had given him the other male’s too. Okay, yeah. He hurried up to catch up to him, glancing over his shoulder at everyone. People looked pretty scared, but relieved that they were leaving, people stopping to help the man on the floor and Matty knew he should probably feel bad, but he didn’t, he felt sort of gleeful. He hadn’t asked that guy to touch him, hadn’t given him permission, so he kind of deserved it anyway.
The male was already out the door and he hurried out, only to rush it a bit much, bumping into Killian, his heart leaping into his throat at the heat he could feel radiating from the male’s body. Part of him told him with this was a bad fucking idea, but he was the king of bad ideas. You only lived once, so he didn’t let things like fear and ‘supposed to be’s’ control him. He felt the urge to say something, needed to say something, but he also knew that Killian was angry and didn’t want to push it too far. However, he just couldn’t control his mouth and was opening it before he could stop himself. “Yanno, I could…” This was a bad idea, but he’d already started and he would look like a moron if he stopped here, so he rushed the rest out in a breathless huff. “Blow y’, not yer brain but yanno…” he groaned inwardly and actually flushed bright red, rolling his eyes at himself.
“Here,” he said quickly, trying to make up for it, hoping the male would just ignore the bullshit that had come out of his mouth, holding out the man’s credit card for him to take, his gaze being pulled away the moment the door opened behind them, four men coming out after. They looked shifty and nervous so anything in him that thought them to be leaving disappeared pretty quickly, and his now free hand came up to grab at Killian’s arm to warn him, silently nodding toward the men that were already spreading out around them. There were four of them and he wasn’t sure if the male could handle them. He swallowed hard right away, his breath catching as he backed himself up against Killian’s side automatically. He wasn’t scared, but he didn’t want anyone at his back that he didn’t trust. This man was dangerous, but he knew he wouldn’t try killing him, at least right this moment.”Killian…” he warned him, licking at his lips, eyes ducking down behind his curls, thinking to the switchblade in his boot.
Killian couldn't stop the little smirk that fell over his excuse at the lame joke. About five minutes late there. “You more wasted then I realize now, laddie? You've been pretty good with quip all night up until now. Or have you finally come to your senses and grown to fear me?” He asked as he took his card back from Matty. He forgot this thing here all the time. See how bloody stupid they are? Who has time to remember to grab this when you're walking out with someone? Gold was much, much easier to remember. It was good after all. He didn't bother with a thanks, he wasn't the best with manners but that was probably obvious. He just slid the card in his pocket, a little annoyed when Matty grabbed his arm like that. He was not the one going to manhandled tonight.
He was going to snap at him for it, but he caught the look on his face when he turned to face him and Killian quickly pulled out of Matty’s grasp, pulling his gun out as he turned around. Awe fuck. The biggest reason he had been able to fucking pull it over on the cops so easily was he kept a certain distance between them before he's decided it was enough and let himself get caught again. They had gotten him on their own a few times… like when he was heading back with that blond guy, the boy than was his first pick up here and Killian wasn't as on guard as he should be. Like now for example. Shit, they got too close before he had pulled the gun, there were too many of them take them out easily.
“Get down and stay the fuck down, Matty,” Killian hissed at him, using the others name for the first time in his order. He grinned a little maniacally as he felt this energy rush through him. He couldn't keep his eyes on all four of them. It was impossible. And he had to make sure he knew which was Matty’s at all times so he didn't make the same mistake he had in the past. The whole reason for ONS only in Killian’s life. Killian laughed as the first shot rang out, taking down the first guy in his line of sight almost too easily. It wasn't as fun. The second was running at him, he didn't have time to aim the gun and shoot before he would get to him, his free hand reached into his boot as he leaned down as he quickly pulled one of his knives from it, quickly sinking it into the man's neck as he stood back up straight just as the man reached them.
Two left. Matty had dropped down the moment he’d been told, but in the end, he’d found out that it was the wrong thing to do, it had left his face vulnerable. Killian had been distracted and while the third man was rushing him, the fourth came for Matthew, the male’s eyes widening as the guys boot came up, connecting with his mouth in a way that actually had him crying out in surprise, dropping to his front and faking curling up. It hurt sure, but he’d had worse in fights before. He just used the cover to get more time, a kick catching him in the side, but he ignored it, pulling his knees up and sliding the knife from his boot, almost dropping it when his hair was suddenly grabbed. There was nothing exciting about it this time, this wasn’t Killian manhandling him and there was a fist coming toward his face. He moved quickly, realising that these guys intended on hurting them bad, perhaps evening killing them.
With a quick movement he flipped the knife open with a swish and turned his wrist, burying the knife up to it’s hilt in the guy’s leg, aiming for his artery. His hair was let go as the male swore loudly, Matthew diving to the side and bringing the bloodied knife with him, his hand covered in the blood that started to spurt out. Fuck. Fuck. This was crazy. People were dead, and people were trying to kill them, kill him and he’d never pissed anyone off that bad before, sure people fought him, he’d been in street fights and even fights with his mates, but this was fucking different. This was kind of scary.
He practically threw himself away from the fight, scrambling backward on his hands and knees, just watching wide eyed, spitting out a mouthful of blood before his eyes returned to Killian, anxious for him, and afraid that something would go wrong and the male would get hurt. Sure he seemed to be handling himself, but anything could happen, right? His bottom lip was split, already plumping up and making him look kind of sulky, a small dribble of blood running down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, wondering if he should get up and help. Killian had said stay down, though and honestly, this guys weren’t exactly small, he wasn’t sure he could handle himself much more than self defense right now.
Killian pulled the knife from the man's neck as the third man was rushing at him, watching in horror as the fourth had gone after Matty and he couldn't stop it in time, especially with someone else getting in his way. Killian refused to let out a sound as the third man's hard shoulder collided with his stomach, feeling a sickening crack he knew all too well. Lucky for him about that at least, he could ignore it. He had gotten distracted when he saw the man going after Matty and hadn’t reacted in time to the man coming at him. Killian saw red. That was it. It was a good thing Matty didn't get back up and try to help now, Killian was dangerous before. This was worse. He couldn't control himself like this. At all, and unless Matty could figure out some way to calm Killian down first, he would attack him too if he got in the bubble he saw right now filled with the three of them.
Killian had turned quickly and his arm wrapped around the third man neck, catching him in a headlock. It took more effort than he liked to admit or that he even showed, his arms twisting and hands grabbing at his head to break his neck, letting him drop to the ground without a care before he was going at the man who had fallen to his knees once Matty stabbed him. Good lad. Smart. He had been able to protect himself against the large man, “I was the one that punched out your mate. Did you really all really think it wise to come after me? Did you actually think you would ever get away with actually hurting him?” He asked, not expecting answers, he was taunting him as he pulled the last knife he had on him from his other boot, having dropped his other one when he was rammed against. He almost played with the knife as he circled him menacingly, only not having actually touched him yet because he was enjoying watching the man freak out over the blood spilling from his leg and Killian threatening him all at once. The look on his face was glorious. “You really shouldn't have done that.” He said seriously, tackling the man to the ground completely, his knife ramming in his gut as he did so. He pulled it out easily, a sick grin playing on his lips as he sat on the man's hips. He slid back, not caring that he was coating himself even more in blood doing this. His movements were quick, the knife cutting the fabric of the man's pants easily before Killian grabbed his dick from his boxers, the man's scream as he sliced off his little wanker almost euphoric for Killian. He pushed himself push up, he could bleed out of that, and if he didn't from the three wounds… well than he was gonna hate his new life. Not to mention Killian would be back for him if he did somehow manage to live. He dropped the bloody knife and paced a little, knowing he had to calm himself down. He couldn't right look at Matty right away, not yet. He wouldn't see Matty. He didn't know who he would see, but it wouldn't be the annoying brat that got under his skin inside the pub.
He finally stopped moving and looked over to where he had seen Matty scamper from his vision and visible relaxed seeing him there. He walked over to him, looking down and tilting his head, “Are you alright, laddie?” He actually felt a little bad that Matty got hurt, but not enough to show behind all the anger he had just shown. “I didn't think they'd come after you too.” He explained, holding out a bloody hand to Matty to help him up, curious if the boy would take it or if seeing Killian like thatched been too much. The first would surprise him honestly, even his crew were scared to come near him for days after he lost it like that at someone. “I'm a little surprised he was that stupid.”
This was not where he was supposed to end up. He hadn't even been quite sure how he got here. Especially how be got here without his crew. He remembered a lot of fighting, two other ships on the water with him- his unfortunately sat between those two said ships. And his happened to be the only one that didn’t have Magic flying from its deck at the others. His men were still fighting valiantly, well as much as a pirate could. They fought hard, more afraid of their captain killing them than of the other two ships if truth be told. Killian Jones was not a gentle pirate. It happened to be why they were attacked like this, he hadn't expected the other ship captains to snoop so low as to go and get magic to try and defeat him.
The fight seemed never-ending, but somehow they were winning now. It wasn't until a spell from both ships came flying at his ship at once and smashed into each other did things change. And fuck how they changed. His ship was torn from that world- no, not world exactly. From that time. His crew had been ripped away from him as well and he hadn't a clue what happened to them. All he knew was that his ship landed in the harbor here, ruining more than just one boat with its entrance and impressive size. It hadn’t been quite nice on the docks either, most of them taken out with his ship as well. He had been lucky he had been able to still get off his ship.
That was months ago now. Rumor of his mysterious entrance had traveled fast, almost as fast as the rumors about him. Almost. It hadn’t taken long for people to figure out not to cross the man. When he first arrived and realized what had happened, if someone had so much as look at him wrong they ended up with a bullet in their head. He didn't know much, but he knew guns. He knew guns, anything with a blade, rum, and the sea. That was about it.
Cops had shown up of course, and Killian had muttered something about loving nothing more ‘than to kill all the bloody sheriff's of this time’. He was arrested that first day, he had escaped not long after that. For weeks it was like a game of cat and mouse, the only time it being on pause was when he would tire of playing it and go to his ship instead, taking her out on the water. They only tried to catch him out on the water the first time- it didn't take them long to figure out there was no way anything they had was about to catch the Jolly Roger.
The only reasons more cops weren't dead was because he found the game entertaining. He didn't kill them when they got too close to be able to arrest him- because he never stayed locked up for long no matter what they tried- he killed them when they either pissed him off somehow or they tried killing him. They stopped trying to kill him pretty quickly. He didn't just take out cops when they did, he took put anyone around them too. It wasn't worth the risk. After seven weeks, most of the cops around found even chasing him anymore not worth the risk anymore. They were never going to get him locked up For good, he escaped too quickly. And they'd be dead before they'd get a chance to kill him. He knew guns, and knew them well. Shooting them, and avoiding their bullets when shot at himself.
Day one of month five, he groaned in annoyance. It was night's like tonight he missed his little cat and mouse game with the cops. Being on the sea was settling his soul and he was fucking bored. The dangerous pirate had somehow still easily been able to seduce men when he felt like it, the danger could work in his favour. He found long ago that men and women alike were drawn to the danger, weather it be for sex or to join his crew had been no matter, he always found someone that wanted him in some way wherever they made port. Men being attracted to the danger hadn t changed, only now it was always for sex- joining in on killing with him wasn't something people wanted to do here and he was just fine with that. He didn't want a crew here. He wanted a crew there. He wanted to be there. But tonight…. Even getting laid didn't seem like a good enough distraction.
He always brought his ship back to the same place that he had landed. He didn't much feel like exploring this time. Besides, pirating wasn't exactly a career option here. Turns out killing people was though, which he had found more than entertaining when he found out.
Most people still called him the pirate, despite him being a contract killer here and not technically a pirate. But then again, once a pirate, always a pirate. He had money here now, he found a place to stay here. A little house by the sea, about a twenty minute walk from his ship. He had bought it outright. He did find things in this time useful, like electricity for example, but it didn't make him miss home any less. Despite his house- he still preferred to crash on his ship some nights. Night's where he went to the pub that was only a three minute walk from his ship.
He pushed open the door to now usual haunt, the bartender catching sight of the man in the leather jacket before he reached the bar and had his glass of rum ready for him when he sat down, killian threw the little plastic card at him. It was both a bloody ridiculous thing to keep money and actually rather convenient. Part of him missed hearing golf coins clattering together at his hip, but this was easier. The first man he had hired him to kill had actually taught him about banks here and how money worked here and about that little plastic card. She had wanted her husband dead. She had also wanted him- but that was so not happening. He would be dead before he would ever be desperate enough to sleep with a woman.
He found he didn't mind her company though, nor she his. She was how he had finally started to learn about this time and how things worked here. He would refuse to ask her any questions, but she always seemed to answer the ones he didn't ask after telling her something that happened during the days he hadn't seen her. He hadn't seen her in a week now. Even hanging out with the first person he could actually stand here didn't sound appealing. Fucking nothing did. He sighed in irritation, scratching at the denim covering his legs. Hannah had taken him shopping early on in their meetings. He did have to admit to liking the clothes here. He loves his leather, which was every single item he owned before, but these were comfortable and a lot easier to move in. He only had a white t-shirt on under his leather jacket thatched owned for nearly ten years now. His pirates luck hung around his neck still, the skull and sword easily visible against the white fabric on his chest. He was sure it was the only reason the cops had not been to actually kill him. It protected him on the sea back home, it protected him from cops here.
Blimey. It had been a rough night, Matty and the boys had been at the whole drinking thing all day, he wasn’t even sure when they’d started, sometime around ten o’clock he was thinking. They’d kept it at home at first, the four of them drinking whatever pleased them. There had been shenanigans, lots of them, in fact, George and him having been at the dead center of it all. First there had been plenty of music, him with his violin, the boys with their instruments, but they got too drunk to play and so jamming had turned into horsing around. Wrestling, pranks and then they’d all decided to go out. Of course, they’d all gone and gotten ready, him and George hanging out together while Ross and Adam had taken off to their place to get ready, calling Waugh around to join in. At first him and George hadn’t got shit done, just horsing around while drinking more, pouring out their closets to decide what to wear. Then came the trying the things on, doing their hair like a fucking group of girls. Luckily, Matthew had great hair and once he’d showered he’d just let it dry naturally, the heavy, thick ringlets dangling around his face like some high class hooker from the vintage era.
Once out of the shower, the brunette had set up his vinyl player, putting on some good ole eighties rock, one band after another, after another. He’d helped George with his hair, they’d basically dreaded it, because it looked fuckin’ whacked as Hell, the male having like that, Matty imagined him to look like the guy out of that caveman movie. Encino Man, that was it! He’d helped his mate with his outfit next, going with a vintage shirt and some fuckin’ out there lookin’ pants. Whatever made his mate happy, George always did have a bit more of a seventies flare than he did. Matthew liked the classic vintage, throwing old school renaissance with modern leather jackets and tight jeans, he was always about his black skinny jeans, but it was mostly because he could pull them off. He hated those pants whenever he bought a new pair, knowing he’d have to wear them in and that they wouldn’t be as comfortable for at least a couple week of wearing them, without washing them.
George hadn’t taken that long to get ready, honestly, but it had taken long enough, the two of them polishing off a bottle of wine before they finally started to get Matthew ready. He’d picked out his clothing pretty quickly, going his usual route before throwing on some rings and some boots to finish the ensemble. He’d gone and painted his nails then, in between cleaning out his last glass of wine, his mate George doin’ somethin’ fancy with his face. He knew, sort of, that it was make up, but had no idea what it looked like or what his mate had actually done with it. He’d not take much notice at all, really, just told him not to get it on his nice white shirt or he’d be kicking his arse. Of course, they’d both been ready to go when Caroline had rung. She was George’s long term girlfriend, she’d been around for years now, not usually coming between them. But she’d been away at some holiday resort with her parents in Germany, and even though she lived most of the time in America, she was home to stay with her grandparents here in England. Of course his mate couldn’t turn that down, he hadn’t seen her in a while and Matthew wasn’t about to take the chance away from his best friend. He’d told him to go, that he’d meet up with Ross, Adam and Waugh later on, that he was okay by himself.
So here he was, all by his god damned self because he’d decided to go wandering without his mates, he always felt like a third wheel around those three anyway, with the weird love triangle they seemed to be in. Ross liked Waugh and Adam liked Ross, of course Waugh really liked Ross, and Ross was sort of close with Adam too. It was pretty messed up, but whatever worked for them, they all seemed happy enough about it, none of them ever fought about it. He’d wandered to a few different pubs at first, the first few, being entirely too full of twats for him to even bother. The third had some sort of old person gathering goin’ on and that was just weird as anythin’, though he’d stayed for a half an hour, letting the old geezers buy him drinks and listened to some of their stories before he excused himself. He’d come to one not far from the water, actually, the smell of the sea lightly in the breeze and that had been oddly nice. When him and the boys had free time, they always took a boat out with a bottle of wine and just… got away from the world for a little while. It was nice. He’d stood at the door for a little bit, dragging his slender fingers through the mass of ringlets before he’d pushed the door open and stepped inside, absentmindedly touching at the open buttons of his white shirt,
Ah, this was nice. Why hadn’t he been here before? It wasn’t full, but there were plenty of patrons hanging around, upstairs and down. The inside was quite a bit old fashion, but that really drew him in, the slender male, stepping past a group of loud sailors, eyeing them up and down and even playfully saluting them. He went straight to the bar, at first ignoring the male that sat there, stepping up onto the barstool to get himself some height, throwing a charming grin at the barkeep. He leaned forward to plop his ass down on the cushioned seat and then finally glanced over to the man next to him. He wanted to seem cool at first and pointed his thumb at the guy without even looking at what he was drinking. “I’ll ‘ave what this guy is ‘aving,” he told the male, only then glancing down at the cup and hesitating, leaning past the dark haired male slightly to sniff the air. Woah. Pulling back with a wrinkling of his nose, Matthew shook his head then. “Nope, I change my mind, only pirates drink rum, I’ll take a bottle of yer best red, mate, a nice big glass too,” he told the male, handing over his card and sliding his cotton covered forearm against the bar, leaning into it some, his eyes finally flickering back to the rum drinking male. He’d been able to get a good look then, and shit, he was fuckin’ gorgeous. Blue eyes, dark hair and kind of a charming, dangerous air to him, the smaller male’s mouth feeling a bit dry just looking at him.
It didn’t matter that this guy didn’t seem interested in anything around him, Matthew just stared at him for a moment, only looking up when the barkeep came back with his wine, the younger male half filling the glass and bringing it up to his full lips, taking a mouthful and putting it back down. “ ‘aven’t see you ‘ere before,” he told them male sitting next to him, only to flash him a pretty grin. “In fact I ain’t been ‘ere before at all, I find myself t’ be lucky that I came ‘ere this time.”
Killian had quickly drank thoughts first drink that had been given to him, leaning back against the bar at the time and eyes raked over the crowd for the first time since he got there, looking for anyone, anything at all that looked like it would distract him from his own thoughts for awhile. From the way his soul ached being here. He didn't belong in this time, that much he was sure of. Hannah may have made him look like he fit in more now having got the pirate to finally accept to wear something other the his own clothing he already owned that was on his ship, something other than leather. It didn't matter, Killian knew he didn't belong. Everyone else already knew it too.
There had been a few times when he came into the bar that the bloody loud magic box behind the bartender was on and he had actually seen his own face gracing the screen, along with the words Armed and Dangerous. The first time he had paid attention to it for a moment, and listened to the lady warn people to stay away from him- to not anger him if they happened to cross paths. It was good advice, he couldn't deny that. Too bad people were stupid. A couple drinks followed him to his ship that night and they were found floating in the water the next day with what looked suspiciously like sword wounds. It was no surprise who had done it. They had come on his ship though without even bothering to ask, and sailor worth his salt knew that was bad form. Any person in the town she have been smart enough to know to stay away from it by now, really, they were asking for those slow deaths. And that's what he had told the cops the next day. That had been right in the middle of their cat and mouse game.
Now Killian would deny it until the day he died, but he was fucking lonely here, in this place where he was constantly finding more things that he didn't understand. Like that portable talking phone he's seen in absolutely everyone's hands. What the he'll was with those things? Hannah had tried to get him to buy one, but he really had no interest in it. Besides, when they weren't staring at the damn things they were talking into them and who did he really have to talk to here? Yup. Lonely. But he was still denying it. He had his ship, he had rum, he had money, and he was still getting laid when he wanted too. What more could he want?
His crew. He didn't always show it, really he almost rarely did, but he cared about each and every man that joined him on his ship. He missed going to pubs with them, gambling and drinking and generally having a good laugh. He ran his ship with an iron fist while on the sea, but he used to let loose a little every once in awhile even on the ship, not doing much different than they would in the pub and gamble around with his crew for awhile. He knew those men. He really hoped they hadn't all been killed when he and his ship got pulled into the rip of time. He was hoping they were either still there, or they ended up being dropped off the rip before he did. That was a lot of men to just die.
Not that he hadn't killed three times as many since he got here. Ah, fuck it. He had thought as he turned back around and raised his glass, silently telling the barkeep for another. If they hadn't done something at the time, which most of them did, they certainly had done something before to warrant their deaths. Some of the braver men on his crew had mentioned once before that he probably killed people a little to hastily sometimes. He had glared at them, his eyes flashing dangerously and saying if that were true, they would all be dead right now before kicking them out of the captain's quarters.
Killian had just set his drink down again from his lips someone came up to the bar to close to him for his liking, he felt his do gets twitching on the glass wanting to grab for his gun already. Even more so when the boy leaned around him to smell his drink. Did this fucking kid actually have a death wish.
“Don't. Not in the bar, Killian.” The barkeep warned him, being one of the two people who regularly called him by his name. It was a shame he could never remember his. He's asked a dozen times already, but he was wasted when he left here- he never remembered and he gave up trying. It wasn't like they actually talked much anyways.
Killian groaned low in his frustration and just took another long drink of the rum. He was clenching his teeth tightly, he couldn't use the gun in here. That was the deal they made. Slamming this kids head against the bar for getting so fucking close wasn't using the gun. He actually relaxed slightly and chuckled lowly when he realized the kid was acting this way because he had no idea who he was. “Aye, I am quite something to look at,” he agreed, actually talking to him but not bothering to look over, just finishing off his rum as ordering another, “Though you're probably the first to actually feel lucky meeting me, lad.” He said honestly. “So you came to pub you've never been too, are talking to a man you have no business talking too, and you think you're perfectly safe right now?” He asked, finally looking over at the other male, finding himself pleasantly surprised at the sight, but it quite change how he was annoyed right now, “Seriously? How wasted are you, kid? And what the bloody hell did you come in here wasted looking for?” He asked a little sharply, honestly a little curious about the answer to that though.
What was this guy’s problem? Matty squinted at him, glancing over at the barkeep questioningly. The man just shook his head and looked away, leaving Matthew even more curious. Hm. He glanced back at the good looking male, licking his lips and turning on his stool to face him some more, leaning his elbow down on the bar, wine held in his other hand. “It’s called bar hopping, it’s a hobby of mine, if y’ must know,” he told him almost haughtily, chin lifting before it dropped again so he could easily drink from his glass. “An’ seriously? Who says things like that now, no business speaking to you? It’s a free world, buddy,” he told him with the slightest grin, hiding it in his glass of wine. This guy was kind of riot, wasn’t he? Acting all tough like he was some big, bad wolf. Ha. He wasn’t scared of anyone, he lived for a bit of danger now, didn’t he? “I may be bloody wasted,” he told him in a silky tone, a leg crossing over the other and almost sending him right off the side of the stool, the male somehow managing to keep his balance, butt shifting on the cushioned seat. “But yer bloody gorgeous.”
A bit bold, perhaps. But he’d had a lot to drink and he didn’t have much shame, honestly. “I came here, t’ get more wasted, plus ‘ave ya been outside? The smell of the sea, this fuckin’ interior, it’s blood legend, let me tell you. I definitely should have been ‘ere before,” he told him, looking over when he saw the barkeep making a cut throat motion. What? No. He wasn’t going to shut up, he had just got started. This guy didn’t have t’ talk to him and he was, he wasn’t going to let the handsome fucker off that easily. Matthew Healy had locked his sights on this guy without even knowing who he was. He reached up to push a thick curl out of his eyes, digging his teeth down into his bottom lip, tasting the fucking make up and not really caring too much, he bet he looked hot.
Taking another mouthful of the wine, the curly-haired male swished the blood red wine around in his class and bloody well batted his eyelashes at the male like a god damned floozy. “And by the way, don’t call me kid, or I’ll start callin’ y’ ‘old man’, and yer too good lookin’ for a nickname like that,” he told him with a soft, almost pouted look. Bringing the glass of wine up to his mouth, he looked around to notice people staring at them and looked quite surprised, leaning forward to the handsome brute glowering there in front of him. “Is it just me, or do these folk have some sort of problem?”
He was right with one of his first impressions of the boy next to him, the boy really did have a fucking death wish. He had never heard of the activity before, bar hopping, but he wasn't stupid and could figure it out. Going from bar to bar by yourself when you're a tiny little thing like this one? You had to either want to die or be fucking crazy. And he could only help with the first problem. “Oh we are far from ‘buddy’s’, laddie,” Killian said between his clenched teeth, almost grinding them. He actually liked this pub, he tried not to fight in the premises. And he usually did okay, people avoided the bar for more than just grabbing a drink when he was in here- which was the exact reason he was sitting alone at the bar when this kid came in. The two people who had been setting at the end of it booked it as soon as he sat down. It didn't bother him if people got a drink around him, the barkeep was quick and they were never there for very long anyways. He drank the last of his third glass of rum, his head finally starting to feel foggy as he set the glass down for a refill, but he did grin at the others words, “Aye, that I am.” He agreed again. The other male had calmed Killian down for the moment with the little compliment.
Killian’s interest was peaked a little more and he gave the boy another quick look over when he had mentioned one of the reasons he liked it here was because of the smell of the sea. He had lived in the sea most his life and now had a house he lived sometimes also on the sea, he understood loving that smell all too well. “It’s my bloody ship you passed on your way to get here, of course I've smelled the sea,” he mumbled the words more to himself than directly to the drunken lad next to him. He really wished the boy would listen to the barkeep after he had given Killian his fourth drink. One more and if the kid was still around he was only getting out of this pub one of two way. Dead by his hand or dragged back to his ship. He couldn't quote figure out which this one would be. If he was smart he would just take the barkeeps warning to heart. Then he was talking again… no. Not smart.
“It's Killian,” he told the boy when he threatened to call him old man and he took another swig of his rum. Part of him knew there were two reasons he actually said it. The Barkeep had said his name once already. And he also said it was because the boy had complimented him again after threatening that. Than again, he was also still breathing after threatening Killian, even if it was with just a teasing nickname for the night. He'd killed people for less. He set down the glass and turned more towards the other when he leaned in and asked that. Yeah, no. He couldn't do this. He was gonna kill the kid if he didn't go away. He was far to blunt and open when he talked, and he talked a lot. “Everyone in this place has the same problem, laddie,” he said, remembering he didn't like ‘kid, “Me.” He told him, quickly reaching out and grabbing a fist full of the boys hair and pulling his head back hard. He knew he was going to do something to him the second he looked at him again. But this…. Grabbing the boy like This could go two ways. He could hurt him. So easily. Grab a knife from his own boot and it against that pretty little throat of his, or…. It was a split second decision and he was honestly surprised at the one he made, his lips covering over the other males in a bruising kiss, keeping him locking in place with the grip in his hair. His tongue licked over the others males lip slightly, tasting his wine there before he was pulling away as suddenly as he had done it. He pulled the other off the stool with the grip on his hair, taking advantage of his surprise as he pushed him towards the dance floor, “Just go away, laddie. You wouldn’t be a me to handle me on a good day and today is not one of those.”
Wine glass still clutched in his hand, Matthew was standing where he’d been left, confused and breathing hard. It wasn’t the only thing that was hard, either, having felt his dick twitch a little in interest at the manhandling. Hn. That had been good, scary, but damned hot. He wasn’t sure what to make of the other male to be honest, his heart racing in his chest. Lifting his glass of wine to his lips, Matty drained the glass in one drink, turning and glancing back at the bar to his bottle. He glanced at Killian, and then at the bottle, back to Killian and then to the barkeep who was briskly shaking his head. Making a face at the male, the slender man walked right back to the bar, but he didn’t much bother Killian, just put his glass down, grabbed the open bottle of wine in his hand, deciding to take it with him. He did however, glance at the rough brute of a man, licking his kiss swollen lips before smirking. “It’s Matty, by the way, gorgeous,,” he told him before gleefully hurrying away before the male could lose his temper at him once more. Then guy was definitely interested and definitely in denial, with that ‘ship’ of his that he had mumbled about, sailing it right down the nile, full speed ahead!
Throat working hard, Matthew tussled his hair and looked back as he was walking away, half hard in his heads. Man, he’d really got lucky today, good or bad day, that man was blasted hot. Despite this being an old fashioned pub, Matty was pleased to find a brightly neoned jukebox in the corner and he dug into his pocket, lifting up the wine bottle to his lips and drinking right from him, pirate style, because whatever, he wasn’t going to dance with a glass in his hand. Looking over the selection of songs, he was surprised to find it pretty up to date, he supposed it needed to be to keep the younger generation coming in and spending their money. He ended up picking a Deadmau5 song called ‘I can’t behave myself’, how appropriate, really. He wasn’t sure he wanted to behave himself after that bruising kiss.
In the end, Matthew ended up slipping off his leather jacket, the thin cotton of his shirt almost see through, half open, but he wanted to show off, hoping that maybe he would be able to keep the male regretting that he’d sent him off. People were looking at him, but he didn’t care just held the bottle of wine up as he started to rock his hips to the beat, his curls bobbing as he started to move. He was a pretty fucking good dancer and he knew it, he did it enough. Music was his fucking passion and so he had no problem just throwing himself into the beat, his hips rolling to the music. He took a swig of the wine as people decided to risk it and join him, the male even looking surprised, but he just carried on, leaning his head back to expose his throat. Despite there being people around, Matty couldn’t take his eyes off Killian, finding his gaze hooded, almost daring the male to turn and come get him. He wondered if the male was scared of intimacy or something, that was fine, he wasn’t looking for a fucking relationship, just, at this point, wanted more of that man’s hands on him. He was surprised when he felt a body pressing up behind him, and his heart skipped a beat, the male insolently leaning back against it, not even looking away for a moment as he practically draped himself backwards, feeling some stranger’s hand actually bravely slipped around to smooth over his flat half exposed stomach. Take the fucking bait, he was willing him to do it, if he had a problem with his talking then there was a very good way of shutting him up.
Killian finished round four almost as soon as he turned back around. He didn't automatically order the fifth one, not since the boy walked back over. He didn't look back at him, even though he could feel his eyes on him. He held back his groan of frustration when the boy spoke again anyways, visibly relaxing when he did walk away this time though. This Matty. God he was not smart to keep pushing him like this! He should have taken one of the dozen hints sent his way and walked the fuck away. Killian told him it wasn't safe to be talking to him from the very start, that was usually the most kind of a warning that anyone would get from him if any at all. Matty had got way more. Why the hell hadn't he hurt the boy? He could see himself doing it, having grabbed his head and smashed it forward without looking away from his drink. But he didn't. He held himself back. Why? Ugh, fuck this. He should just leave now. Go buy a bottle of rum and go back to his ship.
He raised the empty glass for another. The barkeep gave him a wary look. “He's gone, guns away, and I didn't actually hurt him. Just fill the bloody drink,” Killian demanded, getting his way after the man hears that tone in Killian’s voice. The one that clearly stated not to fuck with him, do as he said, or you were dead. He didn't use it often actually. People tended to do things he said before needing too. He didn't give the barkeep a chance to listen any other way. He heard the music starting as he drink was poured and he sighed to himself. He just knew it was the boy. And when the lyrics started, they had Matty’s name dripping off of them. His own too, sure, but that wasn't the point. The point was Matty. That fucking kid!
No, he wasn't a kid. By a long a shot. He was young, sure, younger than him at least. That's why he had changed to just calling him boy or laddie instead. Don't do it, Killian. He's fucking baiting you and You know it. He did too. There was one problem though… he was on drink number five. He turned in his chair a little to look towards the dance floor now dusted with people but his eyes quickly found the one he was looking for, and he felt rage in his gut when he saw someone else's hands on him. He wasn't jealous of this man touching Matty, no. He was just pissed. How dare he think it was okay to do that when Killian had already claimed him with that kiss. Wait… when the kiss become a claim on the boy
He didn't let himself think about though, because he was downing the rest of his drink and pushed himself off the stool, walking with purpose directly to the the dance floor. He reached out and grabbed the man's wrist that was around Matty’s waist without saying a single word, twisting it back and making the guy cry out as he nearly cracked it, his hands instantly off the boy and trying to step back. He wasn't getting off that easy, he was pissed. Pissed and horny and he couldn't exactly punch the kid that caused the initial spark of rage in him tonight. He pulled the man forward almost too easily, “You should feel as though it's your lucky night that I'm not just blowing your brains out right here,” Killian hissed at him, reaching back punching him just once, watching him fall backwards from the force. He almost went at him again, almost grabbed his gun anyways, but he caught sight of Matty from the corner of his eyes and his hand that had been reaching to his gun tucked in the back of his pants stopped, changing his mind and he let the arm fall to his side. “You coming, laddie?” He asked, not waiting for an answer as he started to walk away towards the door to leave, fully intent on taking him back to his ship now.
Holy shit. Matty glanced at the man on the floor and back up at the retreating male, his heart racing. It was good, he hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. It only took him mere seconds to start moving, grabbing up his jacket and following after Killian. He did pause to grab his card from the barkeep only to be surprised to get two of them, his eyes dropping to see that the man had given him the other male’s too. Okay, yeah. He hurried up to catch up to him, glancing over his shoulder at everyone. People looked pretty scared, but relieved that they were leaving, people stopping to help the man on the floor and Matty knew he should probably feel bad, but he didn’t, he felt sort of gleeful. He hadn’t asked that guy to touch him, hadn’t given him permission, so he kind of deserved it anyway.
The male was already out the door and he hurried out, only to rush it a bit much, bumping into Killian, his heart leaping into his throat at the heat he could feel radiating from the male’s body. Part of him told him with this was a bad fucking idea, but he was the king of bad ideas. You only lived once, so he didn’t let things like fear and ‘supposed to be’s’ control him. He felt the urge to say something, needed to say something, but he also knew that Killian was angry and didn’t want to push it too far. However, he just couldn’t control his mouth and was opening it before he could stop himself. “Yanno, I could…” This was a bad idea, but he’d already started and he would look like a moron if he stopped here, so he rushed the rest out in a breathless huff. “Blow y’, not yer brain but yanno…” he groaned inwardly and actually flushed bright red, rolling his eyes at himself.
“Here,” he said quickly, trying to make up for it, hoping the male would just ignore the bullshit that had come out of his mouth, holding out the man’s credit card for him to take, his gaze being pulled away the moment the door opened behind them, four men coming out after. They looked shifty and nervous so anything in him that thought them to be leaving disappeared pretty quickly, and his now free hand came up to grab at Killian’s arm to warn him, silently nodding toward the men that were already spreading out around them. There were four of them and he wasn’t sure if the male could handle them. He swallowed hard right away, his breath catching as he backed himself up against Killian’s side automatically. He wasn’t scared, but he didn’t want anyone at his back that he didn’t trust. This man was dangerous, but he knew he wouldn’t try killing him, at least right this moment.”Killian…” he warned him, licking at his lips, eyes ducking down behind his curls, thinking to the switchblade in his boot.
Killian couldn't stop the little smirk that fell over his excuse at the lame joke. About five minutes late there. “You more wasted then I realize now, laddie? You've been pretty good with quip all night up until now. Or have you finally come to your senses and grown to fear me?” He asked as he took his card back from Matty. He forgot this thing here all the time. See how bloody stupid they are? Who has time to remember to grab this when you're walking out with someone? Gold was much, much easier to remember. It was good after all. He didn't bother with a thanks, he wasn't the best with manners but that was probably obvious. He just slid the card in his pocket, a little annoyed when Matty grabbed his arm like that. He was not the one going to manhandled tonight.
He was going to snap at him for it, but he caught the look on his face when he turned to face him and Killian quickly pulled out of Matty’s grasp, pulling his gun out as he turned around. Awe fuck. The biggest reason he had been able to fucking pull it over on the cops so easily was he kept a certain distance between them before he's decided it was enough and let himself get caught again. They had gotten him on their own a few times… like when he was heading back with that blond guy, the boy than was his first pick up here and Killian wasn't as on guard as he should be. Like now for example. Shit, they got too close before he had pulled the gun, there were too many of them take them out easily.
“Get down and stay the fuck down, Matty,” Killian hissed at him, using the others name for the first time in his order. He grinned a little maniacally as he felt this energy rush through him. He couldn't keep his eyes on all four of them. It was impossible. And he had to make sure he knew which was Matty’s at all times so he didn't make the same mistake he had in the past. The whole reason for ONS only in Killian’s life. Killian laughed as the first shot rang out, taking down the first guy in his line of sight almost too easily. It wasn't as fun. The second was running at him, he didn't have time to aim the gun and shoot before he would get to him, his free hand reached into his boot as he leaned down as he quickly pulled one of his knives from it, quickly sinking it into the man's neck as he stood back up straight just as the man reached them.
Two left. Matty had dropped down the moment he’d been told, but in the end, he’d found out that it was the wrong thing to do, it had left his face vulnerable. Killian had been distracted and while the third man was rushing him, the fourth came for Matthew, the male’s eyes widening as the guys boot came up, connecting with his mouth in a way that actually had him crying out in surprise, dropping to his front and faking curling up. It hurt sure, but he’d had worse in fights before. He just used the cover to get more time, a kick catching him in the side, but he ignored it, pulling his knees up and sliding the knife from his boot, almost dropping it when his hair was suddenly grabbed. There was nothing exciting about it this time, this wasn’t Killian manhandling him and there was a fist coming toward his face. He moved quickly, realising that these guys intended on hurting them bad, perhaps evening killing them.
With a quick movement he flipped the knife open with a swish and turned his wrist, burying the knife up to it’s hilt in the guy’s leg, aiming for his artery. His hair was let go as the male swore loudly, Matthew diving to the side and bringing the bloodied knife with him, his hand covered in the blood that started to spurt out. Fuck. Fuck. This was crazy. People were dead, and people were trying to kill them, kill him and he’d never pissed anyone off that bad before, sure people fought him, he’d been in street fights and even fights with his mates, but this was fucking different. This was kind of scary.
He practically threw himself away from the fight, scrambling backward on his hands and knees, just watching wide eyed, spitting out a mouthful of blood before his eyes returned to Killian, anxious for him, and afraid that something would go wrong and the male would get hurt. Sure he seemed to be handling himself, but anything could happen, right? His bottom lip was split, already plumping up and making him look kind of sulky, a small dribble of blood running down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, wondering if he should get up and help. Killian had said stay down, though and honestly, this guys weren’t exactly small, he wasn’t sure he could handle himself much more than self defense right now.
Killian pulled the knife from the man's neck as the third man was rushing at him, watching in horror as the fourth had gone after Matty and he couldn't stop it in time, especially with someone else getting in his way. Killian refused to let out a sound as the third man's hard shoulder collided with his stomach, feeling a sickening crack he knew all too well. Lucky for him about that at least, he could ignore it. He had gotten distracted when he saw the man going after Matty and hadn’t reacted in time to the man coming at him. Killian saw red. That was it. It was a good thing Matty didn't get back up and try to help now, Killian was dangerous before. This was worse. He couldn't control himself like this. At all, and unless Matty could figure out some way to calm Killian down first, he would attack him too if he got in the bubble he saw right now filled with the three of them.
Killian had turned quickly and his arm wrapped around the third man neck, catching him in a headlock. It took more effort than he liked to admit or that he even showed, his arms twisting and hands grabbing at his head to break his neck, letting him drop to the ground without a care before he was going at the man who had fallen to his knees once Matty stabbed him. Good lad. Smart. He had been able to protect himself against the large man, “I was the one that punched out your mate. Did you really all really think it wise to come after me? Did you actually think you would ever get away with actually hurting him?” He asked, not expecting answers, he was taunting him as he pulled the last knife he had on him from his other boot, having dropped his other one when he was rammed against. He almost played with the knife as he circled him menacingly, only not having actually touched him yet because he was enjoying watching the man freak out over the blood spilling from his leg and Killian threatening him all at once. The look on his face was glorious. “You really shouldn't have done that.” He said seriously, tackling the man to the ground completely, his knife ramming in his gut as he did so. He pulled it out easily, a sick grin playing on his lips as he sat on the man's hips. He slid back, not caring that he was coating himself even more in blood doing this. His movements were quick, the knife cutting the fabric of the man's pants easily before Killian grabbed his dick from his boxers, the man's scream as he sliced off his little wanker almost euphoric for Killian. He pushed himself push up, he could bleed out of that, and if he didn't from the three wounds… well than he was gonna hate his new life. Not to mention Killian would be back for him if he did somehow manage to live. He dropped the bloody knife and paced a little, knowing he had to calm himself down. He couldn't right look at Matty right away, not yet. He wouldn't see Matty. He didn't know who he would see, but it wouldn't be the annoying brat that got under his skin inside the pub.
He finally stopped moving and looked over to where he had seen Matty scamper from his vision and visible relaxed seeing him there. He walked over to him, looking down and tilting his head, “Are you alright, laddie?” He actually felt a little bad that Matty got hurt, but not enough to show behind all the anger he had just shown. “I didn't think they'd come after you too.” He explained, holding out a bloody hand to Matty to help him up, curious if the boy would take it or if seeing Killian like thatched been too much. The first would surprise him honestly, even his crew were scared to come near him for days after he lost it like that at someone. “I'm a little surprised he was that stupid.”