Crows and Seagulls Are Totally Pals Right?

He laughed.

"Don't hate your sexy, sexy partner. We have a lot of missions coming up together."

He pulled Crow into a steamy kiss, mainly to shut him the fuck up.

He had no qualms about that, and kissed back with much energy, returning to running his hands all over Seagull.

He awkwardly pulled away after a few minutes, eying him anxiously.

"...This won't hurt like last time, will it?"

"Depends, are you gonna man up and top?"

"...Would you prefer that?"

He avoided eye contact, for once, as he said, "Meh, like I give a fuck. Sex is sex. So, is that a no?"

Seagull sniggered.

"No, really would you prefer that?"

He snarled at Seagull.

"But you seemed to enjoy our session last night, I don't want you to be disappointed if we don't do it again."

"Really? 'Cuz to me it just sounds like you're a huge faggot who wants to be ass-fucked so badly he could beg," replied Seagull just as maliciously.

Crow glared at him, clenching his teeth. But he couldn't argue, so he managed to calm down enough to say, "...Just shut the fuck up and do it if you're going to do it."

He laughed.

"No, I think that first you should whine and beg like the sissy faggot you are."

Crow smacked him in the face.

"You shut the fuck up and do me or I'll beat the living fuck out of you again!" He shouted, finally loosing his temper. "Capiche?!"

Seagull rubbed his face, frowning.

"Fine," he said, passively laying down on the bed. "But if you want it, come take it your fucking self--I'm not topping."

He smacked Seagull again.

"No, you ruined my fucking mood, you selfish bitch. I'm going to bed."

Seagull couldn't help it--he laughed.

"Ah, so this is what you're like when you don't get your way--fucking pathetic. A boner-kill, really...how do you manage to be such a whore, anyway? Are there really that many desperate people in the world?"

"No one ever said I was a whore, you fucking moron." He tossed his hair. "You were the one who assumed that."

He laughed even more.

"So you can't even get action? Sad." He pulled his hair back into a ponytail, examining Crow with a condescending expression.

"So let me guess--you dress and act like that as some kind of desperate plea for attention? You figure that if you act sexy and slutty, someone will snatch up your faggot ass and do you just like you've always wanted...only, no one does. Because you're disgusting and worthless."

"Don't make me kill you." He snarled. "Because you're crossing. The fucking. Line."

He shrugged.

"It'd get me out of fucking your sorry ass--unless you're desperate enough to do my corpse, I suppose. Wouldn't put it past you."

Crow looked past him, but he was furious. He pulled his hair out of ponytail, however, instead of actually doing anything and paced, growing rather silent.

Seagull grinned, reclining on the bed; suddenly, this was all too easy.

"Sorry, did I strike a nerve?"

"No." He snapped.

Then, he remembered. He had someone who needed to disappear in the closet. He had been saving something special for him, but he was so worked up, he needed something to hit.

He opened the closet door and grinned widely.

"Mr. Mignogna! I've been saving something special for you!" He said happily, dragging him out into the room and kicking the poor, defenseless man in the stomach.

"Nice," called Seagull, "You gonna fuck him after beating him up too, or am I just special?"

But no, Crow ignored Seagull so he could violently beat the shit out of the poor man. Yet, somehow, he clung to life, whimpering pathetically the entirety of the ruthless beating.

Still not satisfied, Crow finally ended the entire ordeal by smashing the man's head into the carpet using the heel of his foot.