Must be. What a pleasing personality.<br/><br/>Drayn liked the way the boy looked at him, and conversed while playing with himself, despite the swelling fingers. Agreeable mouth. It was a well-designed lure, and Drayn let himself be pulled along, though he kept a thread tied to the memory of the dead Adrien. His poor dealer had not had this kind of lesson, which was Drayn's advantage. "Pity." about your father's name. "You go ahead and call me Daddy, then. Or Father." It didn't matter. Drayn was busy enjoying all of Robyn's mannerisms, the small breaths and the rising excitement over the self-inflicted pleasure he'd been ordered to.<br/><br/>The confession about the boy's language was interesting. It made Drayn think that the little murderer could have been raised by a cult, or at least in a house with notably outdated values. And an impregnable basement. Prejudice, but it wasn't hard to judge someone who'd opened someone else's throat. Not that Robyn would care, more interested in the glow of the threatening cigarette than his own safety. This was all adding up to poor self-preservation and the potential of a helluva toy. The feelings on the painfully youthful face were delectable, and it had made Drayn squeeze those fingers harder around the taut cock. What a glutton.<br/><br/>The boy wore haste on his cuteness soon, and Drayn delivered a quick kick. The way Robyn jerked was beautiful, and it was satisfying for the taller male to see the crumbled body still produce rope after rope of guaranteed perversion, despite the abuse, to pool on the floor. "Oh, you like that?" he asked and wore some dense apprechiation for it in his own pants. "There'll be plenty of that for you." he promised.<br/><br/>He waited while Robyn ran to the fateful room. From this vantage Drayn could fish up his phone and take a picture of the murderer and his latest installation of madness. It was hard to imagine events when he'd need it, given the frail nature of Robyn's physical design - not a likely threat - but it was better to have evidence if this bullshit redemption ever was blamed on Drayn himself. Admittedly, Robyn looked cute in boxers, too.<br/><br/>The screen with the macabre, two-mouth Adrien and naked psychopath, soon switched to a less inspiring but more pressing image of a message alert. Drayn rolled his eyes and read it quickly. A picture of cleavage, and the text said 'Plantation'. Drayn sighed, long, and dropped his head. These people liked to start early, which was fine, if he hadn't just ran into young Dhamer here.<br/><br/>"Yo, Rob." he started, jogging into the room. "What's taking so long?" annoyed. He looked around and found a t-shirt. When he picked it up it smelt enough like the freckled skin to be a viable match. "Here." he threw it at the thin-limbed pretty, and the fabric wound around his head to slap him on the cheek. It was an inappreciative gesture, but Drayn was in a hurry now. "Stop your nostalgia. We're going to a party."<br/><br/>If the kid wanted to take his time pulling the article on, he'd not have it from the pushier individual. Drayn soon grabbed his arm and pushed him out toward the hall and then flung him at the door. "Lessgo, lessgo, lessgo." he sang, gruff around a new cigarette which would be lit as they went down the stairs.<br/><br/>The enthusiasm in Drayn's stretched limbs stagnated somewhat when he looked at his bike and the one helmet. He scanned Robyn over. No one was looking, yet, but it would be trouble if the boy was seen leaving with him on the supposed date and time of the crime. He grabbed the protective orb and spun it once in his palm before handing it to the would-be passenger. "Hide your face." He threw his leg over the bike and grunted pleasurably into the hot filter when the key ordered the engine to rattling life. "Keep your hands on my chest, yeah? If I feel you letting go, I'll speed up," to let you fall of the saddle. "And then double back to put tire marks through you." He hadn't seen if Robyn packed up the cutter too, but he wasn't about to let the boy have ideas of murderous mutiny.<br/><br/>They'd be on the road soon, and it would be significantly colder for Robyn, with the modest single layer Drayn had allowed him. The driver wasn't really in the mood to care. If Robyn was perceptive in these matters, and his life-choices so far might suggest he was, he could suspect Drayn was sour because he'd not gotten to try the boy out fro himself before the untimely beckoning.