#VERSE | ain't i your midnight man? (ripperverse)

[laughingmagi]

The heat sucked at his skin as they stepped out the sliding doors. It had been years since the last time he'd been to California, probably not since he and Rip had gone on an extremely extended holiday after he'd been kicked from Ravenscar. Though Rip would likely disagree, he was glad they'd be taking a cab to the hotel they would be staying at in L.A. The plan was to rent a car in the morning, be in Sunnydale by the evening, and hopefully run into the Slayer.

"Bugger me, I'm glad I let you convince me to pack me coat instead of wearin' it on the flight," John groused, dragging his rolling suitcase behind him as he headed toward the smoking section. Usually he didn't care but American airports made him nervous, swarming as they were with security and gross consumerism. "Y'reckon we should drop in on Zee while we're at it? I don't think her residency in Vegas starts for another month or two."

@gilesian (just a wee starter to warm some Ripperverse back up)

[laughingmagi]

gilesian​:

Rip smiled with him. “Knowin’ you it might only look like a cookbook.” There was always something devious about the Constantines. He was lucky to have known a couple other—Cheryl and Gemma, John’s sister and niece. Cheryl shared her brother’s knowing look like they’d seen all there was to life twice over, while Gemma seemed to have inherited the gob of the Constantines. She was young though, and still had a lot of room to grow. He had promised her a shift at his record shop all through summer. He wasn’t sure who was looking forward to it more, him or the young woman.

Then he said, “I’ll come with you this time.” It wasn’t up for debate.

They pulled up in front of the building, parking the car neatly in their lot before Rip herded John inside, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder once or twice. After the door was closed behind them to restore the protective runes they had carved together on the frames, he pulled John by his side, breathing a relieved sigh.

“Come, I’ll make you tea and then we can pick up where we left off.”

     John laughed, thanking about the old kitchen witches he’d met over the years. Their craft was nothing but old wives tales, strange concoctions hidden between recipes for lemon bars and homemade jams. It was a funny thing to imagine a Constantine hiding spells in a cookbook. The laughing magician was far too esoteric for such things, weren’t they? More likely it had been bound in cracked leather, brimming with secrets not meant for wannabes and dabblers far pettier than he’d ever been.

     He rolled his eyes but he was smiling. John knew better than to argue such a point with his man. Rip was protective to a fault. He’d known that long ago and learned to pick his battles.

     It was good to be home, the cozy, smoky scent of incense and clove was a familiar, comforting one. Their home held power, both subdued and thrumming like a live wire between every room, the lingering residue of memories and spells sunk as deep into the walls as cigarette smoke. John pressed himself against Rip’s back and ghosted a hand up under his shirt. It held a lot of love, too.

     “And wot business would that be, darlin’?” John hummed softly. “Y’might want t’be more specific.”

[laughingmagi]

@gilesian​ said: ‘  i  did  nothing  wrong,  but  i  got  on  the  blacklist.  ’ 

     “Sweetheart, y’started a bloody bar brawl cos some cunt told y’that no matter how hard y’were ye’d always a worthless fairy. Which, honestly darlin’, I support that decision, but you can’t jus’ expect they’d let y’back.”

[laughingmagi]

@gilesian​ said: “Sweetheart, I’ll slay a dragon for you.” 

      John grinned as he bore the weight of Rip’s body pressed against his side. He ruffled his dark hair as the taxi lurched forward through the weekend traffic. Some hot new blonde pop star was playing one of the trendier live venues that often hosted those sorts. John felt old because he wanted to say it was Britney Spears, but she was hardly new on the scene. His brain couldn’t conjure any other name, though. Maybe he’d ask Gemma later.

     They would have waited for Chas to get back to them or just waited for things to die down, but the bartender had been a little too heavy handed with the liquor in Rip’s drinks. She’d been a fresh face, flirty, and chasing a tip. Of course they tipped generously regardless, but John really had wished she hadn’t felt the need to get Rip rat-arsed in the process.

     “Too bad the last one died out round the first World War,” John replied in that way where it could never be certain how honest he was being.

[laughingmagi]

gilesian​:

“It’s for your gig tonight, luv. Don’t ruin all of my hard work f’you so soon.” He tilted John’s head just a little, tongue delicately tracing over his ear and kept doing it until he twitched underneath him. Stealing kisses from him felt like no crime at all.

From the first time they met, it was as if there was never a wall between John and the world. He gave it all and received just as much in return. Free, in the purest sense of the word. It made Rip want to protect him even if he had no need for such heroics. Now he was an open book to him, incredibly easy to read and please. “You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned into his ear, squeezing his lean shoulders and making it look like he was pushing him down even though there was no resistance from him. “I get dizzy jus’ from kissin’ you.”

Rip hiked John’s shirt higher to toy with his nipples, skimming the sides of his neck with his teeth. The gentle creak of the chair provided a charming alarm when he leaned too hard, and he grinned as his gaze met John’s startlingly blue eyes. 

     John laughed softly, a shivery sound that was nearly swallowed by a shuddering gasp. He didn’t have the heart to point out that showing up with freshly painted, even more freshly fucked up nails was punk as fuck. Really showed that you didn’t care. Funny really, since they all cared about quite a bit about many things. Perhaps that was more the point. Who gave a flying fuck about your nails when there was a system to be smashed to bits? Yet he kept his hands aloft as he was being very capably seduced. John didn’t give a shit about having tidily lacquered nails, but he did care about Rip, so he’d try to let them dry undisturbed.

     “Maybe I put a spell on ye,” John teased. Somehow it did feel like some kinda enchantment had fallen between them the instant Ripper had first offered to light his cigarette. They had just so easily fallen into each other’s lives that some days John could hardly remember the time without him. It was like finding home and he barely understood that as a concept.

     There was something highly erotic about the way his body could be controlled in this position, and how he could experience nothing but Rip’s eyes, mouth, and drown in sensation. Sometimes that’s all he needed, to be smothered in his adoration. He only occasionally wondered if he deserved it, a small miracle in and of itself.

     “Hmm, but you know if we’re late, they’re gonna kick us off the ticket ‘less we got a bloody good excuse,” John echoed his grin. “Dunno if y’havin’ a need t’suck me off all of a sudden’ll hold much water, but I suppose we can give it a go.” 

[laughingmagi]

@gilesian​ asked: Hands circling his wrists, Rip pulls him close. "One for the road?" ( before John leaves ) 

     John huffed softly, smirking as he was drawn into a possessive embrace. Cheeky, he thought as he kissed him, though he suppose if it hadn’t been Rip, John would have had the same idea. It was often this way when they couldn’t handle a matter together. A surge of passion, and perhaps something a bit more pragmatic. Sex and magic were deftly intertwined with both of them at this point. Sometimes, it was just a way of carrying Rip with him in a much more intimate way.

     “Chas said he’d pick me up up his last fare o’ the evenin’,” John grinned, his hands gripping Rip’s belt. “Reckon we got either twenty minutes or a couple hours. Sundays are such a crap shoot, y’know?”

[laughingmagi]

@gilesian​ prompted: John's phone pings, alerting him of a text from Rip. It's a photo of him, shirtless and grinning to the mirror, skin shiny with what had to be post-workout sweat. The message attached to the photo is short. It reads, Come home? It's less of a question and more an invitation. ( sinday with area himbo ) 

     John’s head was pounding. It had been a struggle to get his hands freed from the shoddiest set of knots he’d ever experienced. As he rubbed his sore wrists, John looked around. He was in some old warehouse, possibly near the Thames judging from the smell.

     “Bugger me,” he growled. Last John recalled, he’d been at a pub, not far from his flat, waiting on a man about a book. Must have been wrong place, wrong time, unless he wasn’t the only person wanting to lay hands on the grimoire in question. Frankly, he wouldn’t be surprised but he really wished just this one time things would go his way with ease.

     The sound of a text message coming through was loud in the silence. John froze, feeling it vibrate in his inner breast pocket. Now that was weird. If anything he would have imagined they’d have taken or broken it. John pulled out the mobile and swiped at the screen, plugged in his pass code, and checked his recent notifications.

     It had been a text from Rip, thank fuck, he must be worried sick — or asking after dinner, depending on how long he’d been missing. He flushed when he looked at the message. Of all the times for him to snap and send a sexy picture. John lingered for a bit, admiring his very handsome husband, and then quickly shot back a text.

                       ‘How bout you just come pick us up?’

[laughingmagi]

@gilesian​ prompted: 6)  receiver is getting dressed and,  unprompted,  sender helps them zip up, attach a necklace, tie a tie, etc. 

     Rip stepped into his space, causing John to smirk. This was his favourite part, wasn’t it? John grinned as Rip fussed with his tie. It had still been somewhat loose as he’d put his suit together. He hadn’t been neglecting it, though maybe he had been baiting Ripper just a little bit. Subconsciously.

     “Pervert,” John teased, not so subtly referring to his husband’s near fetishistic fondness in seeing him in a good suit. Not even a good one. Who knew menswear would become his hottest button? “So where’re y’takin’ me tonight?”

     It was his turn to eye him. Ripper rarely dressed formally, so when he did it was always a treat to see. John wasn’t really the type to care about his birthday, but Rip liked to spoil him on holidays and other special days. He just hoped Rip remembered the bubbly so their date could end on a bang.

[laughingmagi]

gilesian​:

Was it fair to feel this happy? There were highs and lows in their relationship but John never failed to make him feel wanted, loved, and cared for. His kiss was greedy and full of promise that Rip would’ve dropped all of his shopping if John hadn’t pulled back first. For once he was the sensible one between them as he relieved him of the bags in order to set everything on their modest dining table.

It was surreal to watch him uncork the wine and plate the food, even whispering some ancient spell to light the candles. (Candles! They had bloody candles in small glasses like civilised people would.) It was hard to believe how it was only last year that they had found each other again—well, John had found him drowning in expensive booze and reeking of despair. Rip had lost hope, thinking he’d lost John to the system, magic, or worse. He was about to lose himself as well but John had enough kindness in his heart to take such a mess of a man home again. After what he’d failed to do for him, Rip swore to make up for it.

Rip gathered his thoughts again. “—um, yes, yes I did, but I would save that for later with the dessert.” A beat. “Well, unless you want t’be dessert.”

     Life had certainly changed since they’d gotten back together. He still had trouble believing it was real. Sometimes in the middle of the night, he’d stay up and watch Ripper sleep, chain smoking as his eyes tracked the rise and fall of his naked chest. They were both alive, well, and this wasn’t just another heady dream swallowing him as surely as the padded walls he’d one resided between.

     John only regretted putting Rip through his violent night terrors. There were too many times now that he’d woken up with a throat raw from screaming, Rip’s big hands wrapped firmly around his wrists, his eyes full of concern and compassion. He didn’t think he deserved this man, sometimes worried that he’d ruined his life by asking him to ditch the Council and run away with him. John worried that he was selfish, that they’d crash and burn anyway, regardless of what they’d been through and how much they loved each other. After all, John knew very well the love was rarely unconditional and truly doubted he’d be lucky enough to find it. Well, he’d enjoy it while it lasted.

     “I do make a pretty great dessert,” John replied with a cheeky grin. “Bit o’ champagne’ll make it even better.”

[laughingmagi]

@youhavemyrespect​​ prompted: *knock knock* ( ripperverse? )

Send me *knock knock* for my muse’s reaction to yours showing up at their door after being missing for two weeks.

     While it was common for John to disappear for weeks, it was a bit less common for Ripper to stay away for too long. Not to say he didn’t have his own life and ambitions, but when it came to trouble, they usually got in it together rather than apart. When Rip fucked off suddenly, he rarely said much about what he was doing, though he tried to stay in touch. John had a feeling he was still trying to undermine The Council, despite having cut ties ages ago. 

     It had been a couple weeks since his last call, and John had barely slept since then. Instead he stayed up worrying, and chain-smoking like he hadn’t since he’d blackmailed The First into curing his cancer. He’d tried ringing him a few days ago and it gone straight to voice mail. John had tried several times that day and gotten the same with each contact. He’d either lost it, the charger, or had his mobile off for some reason -- Or something more sinister, that he was trying not to think about. His only saving grace was the concept that if someone had kidnapped or was hurting him, there was a good chance he’d have gotten a gloating call about it by it by now. After all, they were very much associated with one another. They shared a flat, a bed, their day to day lives, but also shared enemies and a dangerous reputation.

     Near the end of his rope, John had started to prepare for an astral walk in order to find him when he heard a couple sharp raps on the door. Though he doubted it was Ripper, he had his own keys after all, John ran to answer it. His eyes widen with surprised when it was indeed his bloke, looking a bit worse for wear but thankfully whole. Before John could say a word, he was wrapped up in strong arms and the man’s face buried in the side of his neck. He mumbled something, but Rip sounded tired and the words were indistinct. John stroked his hair while managing to walk him back deeper into their home. Ever in tandem, Ripper kicked the door closed.

     “S’pose we’ll be buyin’ y’a new mobile tomorrow, ey?” John teased him gently.

[laughingmagi]

@youhavemyrespect​​ said: "Sometimes I feel as though I've met you a thousand times over."

     They’d just moved into their third flat, and they were surrounded by boxes, though truly not that many. Two of them alone were devoted to their records. No telly, their phone still packed up, they didn’t even have the power turned on yet. There was a breeze coming off the Thames, cooling their flat, and the faint sheen of sweat on their bodies.

     Lounging on a clean but bare mattress, nude and passing a joint between them, the skunky reek of cheap but potent weed warded away the less desirable miasma of the city sprawl. The hadn’t had sex, but John’s tendency toward casual nudity tended to be infectious. Though the flat was still rather warm, they remained close, with John’s head rested against one of Rip’s shoulders and one of his legs draped along his thigh.

     “Wotchu mean?” John asked, brow furrowing thoughtfully. “Like past lives?”

[laughingmagi]

@youhavemyrespect​ prompted: 💔

A  FUCKED  UP  KISSING  MEME // accepting

17. ...a  kiss  to  give  up  control.

     Trust was a hard won thing from John. He may love easily, but he didn’t trust so readily. John believed that of the two emotions, love was slightly more arbitrary. After all, the l-word was applied to many variants of affection, but no one dared to use the word trust with such idle recklessness.

     John thought of these things as Ripper tied his wrists to the bedpost with nylon stockings he’d bought earlier that day. They weren’t worried about security and Ripper hadn’t been terribly interested in rope or handcuffs. He liked to leave marks, but he preferred more visceral methods.

     He leaned in as much as he could, lips parting, wanting a kiss, and sighing when Ripper granted the affection. John groaned softly, feeling Ripper’s body cover his own, press it down into the mattress. It made him feel secure and deliciously possessed.

[laughingmagi]

@youhavemyrespect​ prompted: 🎉 

Send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on New Years Eve.

     John tumbled into his lap as the bar became a cacophony of noise around them when the clock hit midnight. On blurry TV screens above the bar, the riot of colour from Time’s Square blazed. He barely noticed it as he drew Ripper down for a long, deep kiss. It wasn’t as though it were necessary, they were bound far beyond a silly little tradition. Still -- Any excuse, really.

     “Happy New Year’s, sweet’eart. Many more an’ all that rot.” 

[laughingmagi]

@youhavemyrespect​ said: ❝ you're unusually quiet. what's up your bum? ❞

     “Hm?” John blinked and looked up from his drink. He’d been lost in thought, contemplating like he often did in the wake of a particularly intense event. John supposed he’d been brooding a bit longer than usual. “Nothin’. Sometimes I jus’ wonder if it’s all worth it. Not like, maybe we should stop, jus’ that -- I dunno. Guess I’m jus’ tired. Prolly why I’m keen f’the strong bevvy tonight.”

[laughingmagi]

@youhavemyrespect​ said: "I love you because you gave me a chance." A shrug, a smallish grin. "And you're not so hard on the eyes yourself."

Tell my muse why you love them // accepting

     “Y’make so much o’ a selfish twat that wanted t’keep ye all t’himself,” John grinned, modest as always, cheeks faintly pinked from the expression. It was rare that Ripper was so generous with his emotions. He was more of a show, less than a tell sort of bloke. John supposed it made his words all the more meaningful. 

[laughingmagi]

"Christ, don't remind me," John grumbled. "Almost had meself fooled that we were on holiday."

John plucked Rip's cigarette from his lips and put it, along with his own, between his lips. He lit them both and handed Rip's back. The first hit was deep and long. It had been hours since his last smoke during a layover in New York. He got pleasantly light-headed and it took the edge off his previous annoyance.

"Do we have a plan? I feel like we fell asleep over the mid-west still figuring that out. Won't she have a Watcher or whatever?"

"I've texted her," he said, cigarette already between his lips before they even made it to the smoking area. "Said she'll be glad to have the company whenever we've sorted out our business." Rip dug into his bag, rummaging for a zippo he knew he'd stashed in a deep pocket and away from airport security's sneaky hands.

"Where's the bloody thing—" He eyed John meaningfully when he came out empty handed. "Won't you help us out, love?"