Dup Inbox

[meowww]

Leave a fuckin' message.

Comments

text; un: BlackMask 1/?

[ewwww]

Victor. We need to talk.

2/?

[ewwww]

[The next message comes a few minutes later.]

Victor, call me.

3/?

[ewwww]

I'm not fucking around, Zsasz.

4/4

[ewwww]

[He's just going to call Victor over and over now until he gets an answer.]

[meowww]

Before I respond should I listen to all 47 voicemails or just let you tell me what’s on em?

[ewwww]

Oh, I'll tell you what's on them. Call me. Now.

Audio

[meowww]

[Roman will get a call about a minute later.]

Hey.

[What a bastard.]

[ewwww]

Hey your fucking self. What's all this I'm hearing about that John guy sucking your tits?

[meowww]

Uh, you mean that time in the alley? Why did someone else besides you see?

[ewwww]

Don't play fucking dumb with me. He said you two did it again. After I specifically told you not to do anything without telling me.

[meowww]

Oh, that time, yeah. He needed to meet quota or something, I just thought it was a perfect opportunity to make good on the favor he did for me when they first started hurting.

I didn’t think it was that important.

[He says, voice that low and standard monotone. Beside him a woman shifts further away at the impish grin on his face.]

[ewwww]

Not that--?

[Roman's mouth gapes open and closed like a fish. He's trying to wrap his mind around the audacity Victor is showing, but he's having a tough time with it.]

Victor, I don't care if you're a Dominant here and they say that means you can do whatever you want. You belong to me. And someone licking all over you without me knowing about it, that pisses me off. Got it?

[meowww]

How much does it piss you off, on a scale of 1 to 10?

[He shifts a little in his seat on the train.]

You sound good when you’re mad.

[ewwww]

[Oh, this little--]

Ten thousand. [His hand tightens around his phone.] You sound awful when you're being an uppity little slut.

[meowww]

Oh, now I'm uppity by givin' you compliments. [Around him on the train, several passengers move as he spreads his legs apart.]

Next time you call for phone sex, ask me if I'm in a private space first.

[ewwww]

This isn't phone sex, you fuck, I'm being serious! Am I going to have to worry you'll do this with anyone you come across? Do I have to fucking lock you up?

[meowww]

How else am I supposed to take a phone call where you start threatening me and callin' me a slut? Geez, boss, it's like you're trying to get me on a public indecency charge. I'm thinkin' of fixing this problem in the middle of the damn train.

[He lowers his voice, purring into the phone.] You'd have to catch me first if you wanted to do that.

[ewwww]

[A scoff.]

Public indecency? Here? They'd probably give you a medal for jerking it on the train. [Quickly, he adds--] Not that you should! I don't want you getting off to this. You're in fucking trouble, and not the good kind.

[meowww]

Keep talkin' like that and I won't need a hand to help me finish, boss. [Victor presses his palm down against the small rise in his jeans.] How much trouble am I in?

[ewwww]

More trouble than when you lost my diamond.

[Okay, that might be a little dramatic. But what is Roman if not a dramatic bitch?]

[meowww]

Oh, sounds really bad for me.

[He just can’t stop poking the bear.]

You sound so good when you’re furious. Fuckin’ powerful.

[ewwww]

Stop getting off to this! Get over here right now!

[And with that, Roman huffs and hangs up.]

[meowww]

Ok, ok, got it I'll be there.

[It takes him another hour and a half, blue balls and all, to reach "home." Not his fault the transportation system around here is about as speedy as Gotham evening traffic. Doubts Roman's rage has gotten any less fiery in the time it's taken him to come waltzing through the door. At least, that's what he's hoping when he steps into their apartment.]

Boss?

[ewwww]

[Roman stews more and more the longer it takes Zsasz to arrive. By the time he does, Victor will walk in on a mess in Dinah's apartment: shattered glass, overturned tables and chairs, knife marks in the walls. A knife flies with surprising precision and lodges in the doorframe right next to Victor's head -- Roman's had ample time to practice, though he's still no knife-throwing legend. Just a very angry manbaby with a pocket knife and someone else's property to destroy.]

Zsasz! [His eyes are wide and bloodshot, and he's wearing a silk robe that bunches around his legs as he storms over to him.] Get the fuck in here, now!

[He grabs Victor's arm and pulls him all the way inside with one hard yank, slamming the door shut behind him.]

[meowww]

[The destruction of the apartment, Roman's current state, the knife still twitching in the doorframe next to his head while Roman snarls at him should really make anyone turn tail and run. The equivalent would be getting charged by a wild, rabid mountain lion in the middle of the wilderness with miles of nothing around. Instinct says to get the fuck out of the way.

Course, Zsasz's instincts are perpetually in an "out of order" state complete with caution tape locking that door shut in his brain. Because he, an idiot, straightens up when Roman snatches his wrist and pulls him deeper into danger.

He's been hard the entire time since the phone call. Now he's in very real danger of finishing before the fun even starts.]

Redecorating?