Angel Dust

Valentino is not one to be easily moved by anyone, but he's invested enough in upping the animosity that he allows Angel to shove him around a little. He doesn't go far, because there isn't enough force under Angel's palms to move him very significantly - and he knows Angel's strength, so he imagines that's intentional - but he shifts back enough that there's room to breathe, enough that he's forced to loosen his hold on the front of Angel's jacket, the hands framing his hips lifting and leaving too, claws dragging lightly as they go.

Standing there for a second or two, Val just stares at Angel, his eyes narrowed and his gaze almost piercing. And then - he starts to laugh, but it's a dark sound, lacking joy and mirth.

"I'm easy?" he shoots back, and suddenly, he stalks forward again, collapsing the space between them again and backing Angel right back into that railing behind him. One of his primary hands moves quick, long fingers snapping tight around Angel's throat, not enough to choke but enough to make his breathing thin as he leans in close, slotting a thigh between Angel's and pressing up.

"Fuck you," he mocks, echoing Angel's earlier text in a semi-childish tone. "Send the car," he adds, laughing again, though there's more amusement in this one, dark satisfaction. The way he flicks his tongue out is almost snake-like, teasing over Angel's mouth. "I didn't even have to try, and you came running like a bitch. If you want to talk about easy, baby..."