duke_of_illusions

And here's the plan, leaning up against the bar in a kilt, combat boots, a white wife beater, unshaven and rumpled, hair growing up into a messy pompadour. Gerard, with his barrel chest and gut and legs-open stance, tattooed and smirking. The picture of grit and filth, the perfect antithesis to Barma and his narrow hips and long hair and skin.

"Hey baby." A toothy grin. "He said you were mine tonight."