Lucifer was no longer in his line of sight, bloodlust a thing that kept him honed in on only what was necessary, focus slipping but never quite going out of his control. His gaze darted one way and then the next, ignorantly watching a fist fly and counting no more than a second before he responded, his elbow wrenching one way to pop a man in the face before he was throwing his own weight around, trying to get the flailing man off of him.
So he needed to move faster. Alright. Fine. He could do that.
Puffing himself up with a breath, he bolstered himself back against the bar before hefting the man up and over, all but throwing him into the smaller one who was still trying to fling punches his way. The whole moment teetered precariously until Dean was back to firing off his own physical rounds, kicking knees out from underneath those coming towards him and wrapping heads up into hooks and jabs. Everything was dirty and punches were foul, knees to guts and kidney shots were aimed more than once, slipping out feet from underneath men who were too big to be able to control which way their weight went. Dean finally began to move the fight to the broader arena of the bar, twisting within it and taking the occasional clipped punch with the sort of fury only a man spurned onward could find.
Maybe it was just a little too much fun, but Dean was still waiting for them to drop like flies, only reigning himself in to the extent that he didn't have to kill anyone. Bottles were so close to his grip that it would be easy to break one and thrust it into bowels, but he was being good, restraining, only decking those under the chin that deserved the concussions they were being given.
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Lucifer was no longer in his line of sight, bloodlust a thing that kept him honed in on only what was necessary, focus slipping but never quite going out of his control. His gaze darted one way and then the next, ignorantly watching a fist fly and counting no more than a second before he responded, his elbow wrenching one way to pop a man in the face before he was throwing his own weight around, trying to get the flailing man off of him.
So he needed to move faster. Alright. Fine. He could do that.
Puffing himself up with a breath, he bolstered himself back against the bar before hefting the man up and over, all but throwing him into the smaller one who was still trying to fling punches his way. The whole moment teetered precariously until Dean was back to firing off his own physical rounds, kicking knees out from underneath those coming towards him and wrapping heads up into hooks and jabs. Everything was dirty and punches were foul, knees to guts and kidney shots were aimed more than once, slipping out feet from underneath men who were too big to be able to control which way their weight went. Dean finally began to move the fight to the broader arena of the bar, twisting within it and taking the occasional clipped punch with the sort of fury only a man spurned onward could find.
Maybe it was just a little too much fun, but Dean was still waiting for them to drop like flies, only reigning himself in to the extent that he didn't have to kill anyone. Bottles were so close to his grip that it would be easy to break one and thrust it into bowels, but he was being good, restraining, only decking those under the chin that deserved the concussions they were being given.
He was allowed this. He needed it after all. ]