Sweet tooth -Corey and Esteban-

He watched the kid's stance, and slowly, a grin appeared on the changeling's face and he snickered loudly. How naive could somebody get, seriously?

"Hah, dude, I totally gotcha there, didna?" He gave an amused snort, shaking his head, as if in disbelief. "Yo really thought I was gonna eat yo?" He grimaced, sticking his head out and raising his hands. "Fricken gross..."
Trailing off, he looked Passionfruit up and down, as if examining said gross-ness. To get a better look, he shifted closer and leaned forward a bit. "Yo dun even look edible..."

And then, he brought up his leg suddenly to knee him in the groin as his hand shot out to grab the wrist of the armed hand, intending to yank it and twist it behind Fruity's back if he succeeded.

Corey had been about to voice the amount of times other people had tried to eat him, in way of justification for his nervous disposition.
But he hadn't relaxed at all either- why? because he never relaxed, especially not in still-potentially-bad situations.
He didn't know or trust this guy at all.

As Esteban moved closer to him although he had lowered the knife slightly he still tensed up subtly in anticipation for any sudden anything of any kind.
Because of this, he wasn't totally taken by surprise. He wasn't totally ready either though.

As such when Este came at him he had enough reaction time to twist back and sideways, meaning the knee hit his thigh instead in a narrow-still-painful but thankful miss. His arm however was not so lucky, and he was easily disarmed, letting out a small cry as it bent awkwardly behind him. The knife wasn't his natural weapon though- he didn't instinctively go to use it because he wasn't used to using one.
Instead his first instinct was to open wide and bite down hard with his sharp, pointed teeth at whatever unfortunate part of his attacker happened to be in range of his jaws, or at least to try to.

While the strike intended to be stunning missed its mark, being much less effective, the fact that he had managed to grab the arm was more than enough. Forcing Fruity to spin around at the same time as he stepped to the side, Esteban found himself behind him now. If the seriousness of his intentions wasn't clear enough, the wickedly satisfied grin on his face would be the final proof... if the other boy could see it, anyway. As it was, Esteban could only tut, as if disappointed that the rabbit-thing was so easily immobilized as he pulled the arm up, bending it to the edge of pain so that there would be no chance the next attempt at biting would be more successful.
"I promise I'll be gentle..." He snickered, reaching to wrestle the knife in Fruity's grasp. It would see some use in the end.

He'd failed miserably to defend himself.
He had triedbut for all his trying here he was. At the mercy of someone who seemed fully intent on having him for his next meal. And he could not get out for the life of him.

Corey sniffed- tears welling just behind his vision buthe refused to let them fall. He'd not be that weak- he'd already lost, no need to lose his pride as well. Maybe he'd manage to keep at least that. Or at least keep his pride wounded but alive.
There was no use for tears.

He let the knife go, he knew defeat when it had him.
"... The taste gets more sour and dry the further the blood gets from my heart." He offered in a resigned tone- but one laced with dry and slightly dark humour. If he couldn't win, at least he could try and keep his own in defeat.

Even though it seemed that Fruity had given up completely, he was not about to let his guard down. Esteban scoffed, nudging the boy forward so that he could pin him against one of the counters. "Yo coulda worked wit me from the start, woulda bin nicer..."
Once that was achieved, Esteban didn't stop his movement, but rather made to lean forward, pressing flat against the other's body to whisper near his head: "...for you."

He remained in that pose for a second, then stood up straight with a snicker. As he mused over how sweet did he want it, he let his gaze trail over the form of the dog-eared kid. Funny, really... with all the things he had done, he'd never eaten somebody alive before. There had to be a first for everything, he supposed.

Injuries on the back were quite nasty, as he very well knew. With every arm movement, the edges of a wound were pulled on and easily separated, prolonging the healing.
Which would be just fine.

Esteban hooked a finger over the collar of Fruity's shirt and pulled down to bare some skin over the other's back, then reached to slide the knife's blade across it.

He could have done, yes. Perhaps he should have done. But it was a bit late for that now.
He offered no resistance to being pushed forward- he had nothing to gain from that. Instead he tried to brace himself as best he could for the sting of the blade.

The close proximity made him shift slightly, uncomfortable- but that also mattered little. He was about to be a whole lot more uncomfortable. And in pain.
"I guess I was just trying something new.. but tge results are the same." He sighed his reply in a small quiet voice.

He scrunched up his eyes preparing for the cold edge of the knife in his back-not exactly somewhere he would have volunteered if he had been given the chance to pick.
That was probably his fault. It hurt too. A lot. It stung and then immediately began to trancend to general continuous pain. He bit his lip at the impact to try and stop his wimper escaping as his inhuman blood started to trickle down his back.

Esteban had honestly expected a twitch at least, maybe a squeal of protest... Instead, it seemed as if Fruit was used to this sort of treatment. Curious, he mused, as he licked the side of the knife clean. And delicious. Perhaps if the kid fought, it would have been more fun, but perhaps an uninterrupted meal would be nice as well. It was what Esteban had come to the kitchen for, after all.
"Poor baby." he cooed. "Lemme kiss it be'er."
With that, he leaned forward again to trace the trail of juice with his bright green tongue, lips closing into a kiss over the cut.

An involuntary shiver of discomfort shuddered down his spine and he fought tge urge to shift in a meaningless attempt to get rid of said discomfort- it was pointless to do so he knew. So he just kept his eyes closed tight shut, despite how it stung when the wound was touched however lightly the touch may be.

It felt weird, weird because Blair had done that- well, not this exactly of course. He used to kiss coreys cuts or bruises better, in a caring or parental manner. It had been comforting- and suddenly a renewed pang of a kind of home sickness sank in his stomach. A home sickness for his friend who he hadn't seen in years. He found himself wishing for the thousandth time that Blair was there with him. Uselessly as every other time.

Esteban smacked his lips as he stood up straighter. "Very good."
Whether it was about the taste, or Fruity's obedient behavior, he wasn't sure himself. As he watched the juice start seeping again, he decided that this was not really fun enough to do at such slow a pace. So, taking the knife to the wound again, Esteban shifted the blade inside the cut to widen it somewhat. That was better. Holding the knife between his teeth, he leaned forward casually to reach for an empty bowl on the counter and press it against the boy's skin to gather the flowing passionfruit insides.
And now, time to wait... With a hum, Esteban took the knife from his mouth to speak. "So, how'dya like dis place so far?" he asked conversationally, though with an amused smirk. Just to kill time.

He was doing pretty good at being silent and still until the knife reentered his cut and he let out a small involuntary noise.
He hadn't been expecting it and it had hurt- but other than making him bite his lip he tried not to react to it. What was this? He was being harvested. Or at least that's what it felt like. I wasn't sure what was worse- being eaten alive or having someone collect bits of him and THEN eat them.
Either way it was an uncomfortable and undesirable situation.

The small talk was out of place and it barely managed to distract him at all from what was going on. He answered anyway however, to be "polite" or more so to humour Esteban. He didn't want him angry or upset or put out or anything other than appeased.
"It's... not bad. People don't stare as much.." he was still being eaten though- something that DIDN'T happen much anymore elsewhere. How was that better? Maybe it was just part of the curse, to be constantly made a meal out of. Why was he being punished again? Oh yeah his parents had been indulgent. Life was so unfair.

The liquid was trickling out at a pace way too slow still and Esteban squinted in displeasure. Maybe the spot wasn't the best one; there weren't too many blood vessels there... Pouting as he stared down at the disappointing source of food, Esteban let out a 'hmph'.
"Yea, dey don't." he answered in a sarcastic tone to imply that that shouldn't be Fruity's biggest concern, not now, not ever. It was true, though. Esteban was less concerned with stares than with rocks being thrown and cops or ambulances called, but it still was a relief that no kind of freak was batted an eyelid at on the Island.
Sighing, he peered into the bowl to see it filled only in a small part. Unfortunately patience wasn't his biggest virtue. Oh, well, he wasn't that hungry anyway. Shoving the boy off roughly to the side, Esteban took a step away and backed off, still keeping an eye on him.
"Now dat wasn't so hard, wuz it?" he said with a lopsided grin, glancing to the bowl in his hand.

He let out a breath as the ordeal seemed to come to an end, his back hurt. Of course it did. And it would take a while to heal as well.
But that was just his life- he should be used to it by now, he told himself. What else would he expect?

He sighed and turned around to face Esteban. "No, it wasn't- it never usually is.. and I hope what you got was worth it."
He raised a brow- now there was really no point in caution anymore, was there? It had already happened. So instead he just developed a sort of apathy for the reaction he got. It no longer really mattered.

Funny- he hadn't talked to many people yet- he didn't really know anyone. Except this guy- so where did that leave him? This guy had just cut open his back to bleed him for a snack. He honestly wasn't sure what to do at that point, maybe everyone he met would be like that and he just needed to learn to except it. Maybe it was just his role in life- people did this because it was the way of things. Thinking like that brought a weird question to his mouth and he asked it before thinking. "Are you my friend?"
What a dumb sounding thing to voice aloud he scoffed at himself afterwards. What did he expect to hear as an answer? Yes? No? Did he care? Did it matter?

He mirrored the raised eyebrow, quirking his lip slightly in disbelief. Now the kid was getting cheeky? Bouncing up slightly, Esteban sat on the edge of a counter and promptly began swinging his legs as much as the furniture allowed. Behind his back was a cutlery stand and he turned around slightly to grab a spoon out of it. Eagerly, he took a spoonful of the fruit mass from the bowl and put it in his mouth. It was then that the question came.

One eye squinted, one almost popping out of its orbit as a trail of juice ran down his chin, Esteban stared at Fruity, for a moment frozen in utter stupor. Then, he swallowed, and rolled his eyes, looking around as he waved a hand in the air, as if to gesture his exasperation to a nonexistant audience. "Git a loada this guy." he muttered, then looked to the other again, brow creasing. "I'm eatin' yo righ' now. Whacha think?" He shook his head and tutted as he dug the spoon in again. "Y'need more self-respect, bub."

The fact that he, the one saying it now, had used Fruity so, gave him a sick sort of pleasure.

He shrugged embarrassed knowing how stupid a question like that would have sounded.
"W-well... you're one of the only people I've really talked to.." what kind of a reason was THAT? He looked at the bowl as attention was drawn to it.
Self respect? "I haven't met many people who haven't at least tried to eat me.. I figure it's just what happens when you're made of food."
He had pretty much given up thinking otherwise- he was eaten because people could eat him. That was just his life.

"It's not like it's actually damaging me- I always grow back.." he tried to make being eaten sound like no big deal- he didn't want to feel like he was suffering such a great loss all the time. If he said it was no big deal then it wasn't a big deal.

Knocking his heels against the counter, he watched the kid silently, having no choice but to listen while he ate. The passionfruit was delicious, but Esteban wasn't much of a gourmet - he couldn't afford to be - so the bowl was empty within moments. With a clatter, it found itself carelessly abandoned on the counter for somebody else to clean as the changeling jumped off.

"I don' think it's cause yous made a food." He frowned. "I tink it's jus' cause everybody hates you."

Letting out an unsympathetic cackle, he walked past Fruity and headed for the door. His job there was done.