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Drifter's hands are delightfully large.
Perhaps they are reflections of his supernatural nature, as a being that lives by taking from others. But by that logic, then wouldn't all living things have the same condition?
Either way, that's not the point here.
It brings a small sense of whimsy to Doorman when he compares his hands to Drifter's. His vessel is so, ah, well he aimed for one that is aesthetically pleasing when he was creating it. A kind, unassuming face, tall and broad shouldered with a soothing voice. He perfected his mannerisms from how to precisely hold an object to the rhythm of his gait. But he just pales in comparison to Drifter.
One of Drifter's fingers is as thick as two of his own. His nails—claws—ever sharp as a doctor's scalpel, and if Drifter wills it, he probably can wield them as accurately too. The control the vampire has over his body after living in it for centuries upon centuries is remarkable. Doorman supposes that's where Drifter has him beat.
Physical experience.
Doorman's knowledge of the human body is built upon a base of academics, from books and diagrams, as he used them as reference to better adjust the finer details of his vessel, but Drifter learned it organically, instinctively even. Organs, bones, nerves and veins. He's torn through them all. He wouldn't be surprised if the vampire can taste even the slightest difference of disease in the blood of his victims.
Doorman has learned much from interacting with mortals, but he knows. He can read about a subject as much as he wants, but it is no match for actually doing it.
So it is completely unsurprising that Doorman would ask Drifter to do the things he had read in books with him.
After all, neither of them can be killed by these means.
"Y'know ya have to actually breathe to be able to choke, right?" Drifter glances up from the page of erotica Doorman has shoved in his face to read the instant the door to their room closes.
"I do breathe. The vessel requires it." Doorman says, adding an indignant huff to further prove his point. There is air in his lungs, thank you very much.
"Look me in t'eye and tell me ya don't just let the good air go in 'n never come back out. Yer chest don't even move when ya 'breathe'." Drifter deadpans.
Doorman averts his eyes. His chest suddenly puffing up and deflating now as he actually let the motions go through.
"The smell of exhaust irritates me." He mumbles.
"Sure, sure." Drifter nods along, having gone back reading the rest of the page. He takes the book from Doorman and flips to the next page. The god has half a mind to tell him to be careful, as this book was from the Cursed Apple resident magical bookworm herself (no, he will not admit to how he acquired it), but since Drifter isn't being too forceful with it, he refrains.
"Ya want me 't follow this exactly or...?" Drifter looks up at him again, an eyebrow raised in question.
"No need. I just want to test if asphyxiation during intercourse would heighten the pleasure." The prose in this type of book tend to be quite…flowery, and descriptions exaggerated. The Doorman can't be bothered with it, but he does find the act depicted interesting, so he wants to try it out.
"Got it." Drifter snaps the book shut, then tosses it somewhere behind him, uncaringly letting it tumble on the carpeted floor. "Bed or couch?"
"Bed, please." Doorman answers. He notes the strange complacency though. "You seem more eager to do this than usual. May I ask why?" Aside from Doorman's promise of paying for his friend's assistance with a night of pleasure and an absolutely divine room service meal (also known as: his blood), there's usually more push back than this.
"Well this ain't even one 'o the weirder things ya had me do. Plus, 's not every day ya get 't choke a god, right?" Drifter step close, his hand coming up to tease at the collar of Doorman's shirt, his pointer finger claw tugging at the rim. "'M lookin' forward to it." His voice drops down to a more…seductive range. It reverberates pleasantly through Doorman's body, making him shiver.
"Let's not keep you waiting then." Doorman smiles up at Drifter. He cradles his face in both of his hands and pulls the vampire down to connect their lips.