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@ambitchixus-blog
santiago + art metaphors about @jgger ‘ as much as santaigo hated to admit out loud ( so he wouldn’t ), he couldn’t EVER take his eyes off jagger, didn’t think he wanted too either. after all, you didn’t look away from ART, you experienced it. ’
J A G G E R;;
The hand on his thigh sears through the silken fabric of his pants leg like he’s being branded, the heat nearly enough to make him reconsider his excitement to head inside when there’s burning possibility outside. For a brief flicker of a moment, his mind fogs up with enough distraction to make him forget about the party, the schmoozing, and even how much his dapper flashy attire costs (which is saying something – Jagger loves knowing he’s the most expensive thing in any room). All he can focus on is touch and it quiets the seemingly never-ending prattle of antagonizing banter he sprinkles into the air between them in lieu of polite conversation.
Of course, as with any other moment of respite, it doesn’t last all too long. Anything other than a quick-witted response just wouldn’t be the Jagger Collins way. “More than fuckable? I like the sound of that. How would you more than fuck me?” It’s the innocent way he says it that makes his words all the more obscene. If he could flutter his eyelashes any more demurely he’d practically be an angel. Looking closely and there’s an element of something genuine visible in the sparkle of his smile. Jagger really does thrive off of compliments and it truly doesn’t matter who is giving them (though, if pressed, he’d be forced to admit that Santiago is particularly gifted at making Jagger feel extraordinarily exquisite).
“Art, you say?” he’s reveling, basking in Sans’ attention like a cat in the sun’s rays. “Guess that means I belong pinned up against some fancy museum wall, on display where no one will be able to take their eyes off of me.” He’s tapping his fingertips against the back of San’s lingering hand, then, which wouldn’t be all too suggestive a gesture if it wasn’t paired with the hooded gaze he’s now fixated on his evening companion, following the scratchy purr of his tone. “They won’t take their eyes off of us.” Just as he’s sewn together the sensual fantasy, however, Jagger’s shattering it with similar ease. There’s a flash in darkened green eyes and he’s sitting up a bit taller in his seat.
“’Course they’re gonna stare,” preens Jagger, though he’s more kitten than predator now, all kinds of playful as he’s tugging at strings. “They’re gonna be wondering what a pretty, spry, young thing such as myself is doing with someone old enough to be my father.” Jagger giggles – he fucking giggles – before clapping his hands together in delight. “Oh my god, you actually are old enough to be my father!” Let it not be said that Jagger cannot do very simple math in his head. Hot and cold and back again, he’s leaning over to press a sweet peck of a kiss to Sans’ cheek before the driver has gotten around to opening his door, allowing Jagger, in all of his designer suit glory, to unfurl from the cab of the car like some sort of blossoming flower.
He’s a good date, Jagger is, so he waits for Santiago to join him around on the right side of the car. For all his jibes, Jagger wants to be seen on Sans’ arm. The older man’s suit is to die for and he smells just about as rich as Jagger feels. It’s a mood and one he quite enjoys indulging so he’ll have to play good for a majority of the night, teasing just enough to rile Sans up in the way he knows they both like. Business first, pleasure later, after all.”Hurry up, old man. I’m getting awfully lonely.” Okay, so maybe he’s not that good a date. Nobody would expecting anything less from the entitled little rich boy.
Jagger always has something to say, something sharp, clever even; now is no different. Santiago shouldn't be surprised ( to be fair he isn't, not really anyway ) but that doesn't mean it doesn't make him roll his eyes any less. Someday he's going to roll them and they'll stay like that-- this he is sure of at the rate people make him do the gesture. Namely, Jagger. The fact his companion is playing innocent just makes the words worse, makes Santiago feel hotter for a moment, the kind of HEAT that's almost COLD with the way it makes your spine shiver. "I'm sure I could find a way, you haven't seen everything I could do to you." His tone almost sounds like a threat, but not the kind that intends to do harm, it's a threat of a more obscene nature. Santiago isn't holding back with any sort of innuendos, he doesn't allow what he says to mean anything other than exactly what he means. At the same time, such actions were best left for when they didn't have work to do; never thought he'd hear himself even think that before. It wouldn't be the first time he placed business over pleasure however, even if the latter was as enticing as the sun soaked cat before him. "When everything is..." he pauses trying to think of the right term, of phrase "squared away, we could make that happen, might be a bit of fun, don't you think, you-- me, a museum." Santiago flashes him a bit of a evocative expression to combat the way the other males fingers seem to touch back at him, combined with that gaze that was meeting his own, well... The thought of him being the reason Jagger was against some wall sounded more than enticing, perhaps in part to the thrill of trying not to get CAUGHT. Jagger is moving though, sitting up straighter, something that causes him to quirk up an eyebrow, Santiago wonders what's with that delighted little look he's giving off-- 'old enough to be my father'. Santiago glares, retracting his hand in a rather flippant gesture; shaking his head as if he's shaking off the words. Shaking off those damned giggles, he actually fucking giggled! Two could play this game, Santiago wouldn't let Jagger win this, he couldn't! But before he can do ( or rather say ) much of anything else there's a peck on his cheek and the other is already getting out of the car, the dammed brat. He's pretty sure that he's NOT old enough to be the younger males father, he does the math momentary in his head, only adding to his brief annoyance as he steps out, fixing his suit and straightening out on instinct. It only takes him a moment to offer Jagger his arm once he's next to him, leaning down with the sort of smile that he thinks might be more fake than anything else, probably because he's holding back a grin-- they are now at the event after all and he doesn’t want to look like some grinning fool. Santiago licks his lips before he whispers to the other, so close to his ear he could practically nip at it if he wanted to. "Perhaps you should start calling me papi then, if you think I'm that old. Eh, pequeño gato?" His intent was to rile the other up, somehow though after the words come out of his mouth he thinks it only digs his hole deeper. “Besides you keep talking about my OLD age and I’ll start to think that’s your favorite thing about me.” He lets out a rough chuckle before leaning back up.
these voices won’t leave me alone,
there is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.
ot3 au’s;; potc
V I N C E N T;;
Vincent is pretty fucking certain he’s being hit on - not that he’s surprised, given the circumstances. But it feels significant; the one time they’d been together, it had been with Jagger, and it wouldn’t have happened at all without him. He isn’t sure how he feels about anything happening now without him, either. It feels… strange, like something he wants to do but shouldn’t be doing. He has to remind himself that it doesn’t matter; he hasn’t asked, but he’s fairly certain that Jagger and Santiago are still sleeping together without him, and he knows good and damn well that Jagger is sleeping with other people in general. He hasn’t been, but that’s his own damn fault, and he has an opportunity to remedy that now, it seems. He just has to ignore how strange and complicated the situation is in his mind. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about it some,” Vincent replies with slight amusement in his tone, the subtlest grin on his lips. He had been too, on occasion, he hated to admit. And to think, he hadn’t been one hundred percent down for it at first. “Yeah, I’m good for that. Avoiding problems, that’s what I do,” he laughs. Every fucking decision he makes in his adult life is some sort of distraction from a problem of his, after all. Pleasure, of all kinds, was the best sort of diversion. Then Santiago is touching him, just the slightest of touches, but it’s enough to signal a switch, a crossing of the line between I’m just flirting because that’s how I am and I really mean it. It startles him slightly, and he looks up at the other man, eyes a little wide and vulnerable and lips parted in surprise. The compliment registers after a moment, and he smiles, sweet and genuine. “I haven’t heard that one before,” he says, and it’s the truth. Captivating is a far more powerful and thoughtful compliment than sexy or cute. “What, you don’t like that?” he teases. His eyes keep flickering down to Santi’s lips, as a soft chuckle escapes his own. “I’ve been doing that, don’t worry. Unless,” he plays dumb, cocking his head to the side. “You’re thinking someone in particular.” He’s playing games now, hoping to coax the other man into making a move if that’s what he wants to do. Vincent doesn’t make the first move, as a rule. “Say what you mean, Santiago. I’m listening.”
“Perhaps I have, you don’t seem to mind that though.” Not when his tone sounded just ever so amused and there was the hint of a grin forming on his lips, Vincent had to of had him on his mind to some degree, he thinks. Santiago had indeed too, how could he forget that night with Vincent, with Jagger; limbs tangled up among the three of them, lips locking, bodies arching all hot and heavy. It was ecstasy, pure and utter release to inhibitions, something that he wasn’t quite sure he’d found with others between the sheets. “You can’t tell me I haven't crossed your mind since then, I could hardly believe such a thing.” Licking his lips, he wants to tease the other, tantalize him, push all the right buttons in all the best right places. Santiago lets his thumb slowly circle the skin at Vincent’s jaw line, his eyes never breaking away from the other males face. “Then avoid them with me, hm?” There were a world of problems at his doorstep, yet he didn’t want to open the door for them, not just yet, not while Vincent was there to avoid them with him; all wide eyed and vulnerable, there was that kitten all over again, the one he’d seen in the club when he’d startled him. It’s an enticing look that causes him to shift in his spot ever so slightly. The smile that follows that expression is just as alluring in all honesty, like honey might spill from Vincent’s lips at any moment. Santiago never liked sweets, but if Vincent tasted as sweet as he looked right about now he could make an exception. “That’s a shame, you should be told often those kind of things querido.” And Santaigo did mean that, he’s one for compliments sure, it’s just who he is, even so he never gives credit where it isn’t due. Vincent’s teasing him back though, leaving Santiago to roll his head and let a soft sigh of amusement escape his lips before he looks back-- catching the other looking back at his lips, “I just think you’d be better suited elsewhere...” Santiago doesn’t admit that he wouldn’t like it, the tone he gives off his a bit suggestive if anything, husky even as he draws closer, there’s not much left between them; his breath hitches. Vincent playing dumb is cute in it’s own way, mostly because he gets the idea that he’s anything but that, he knows what he’s doing, just as much as Santiago does in this moment. “I’m thinking of me,” Voice deep, but quiet as he finishes closing the gap between their lips, lips that he presses deeply into, his other hand slinking it’s way to Vincent’s waist, fingers curling at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls him closer, pressing their bodies together. It was such a warm sensation, wet lips melting into one another, the tip of his tongue brushes Vincent’s lips before he pulls away, although not very far. “was that clear enough for you Tigre.” He breaths out, it’s not a question-- still his eyes look back in perhaps slight admiration and want.
My Kink is being right and that’s why I’m turned on all the time
J A G G E R;;
Even though they’ve transitioned indoors, Jagger can still feel the bite of the autumnal wind nipping at his already pinked nose and cheeks. The tips of his ears even register the chill and always one for dramatics, Jagger considers voicing that they may have to be amputated. He keeps quiet though, for once, sobered by how very real and odd it felt to be looking at new locations for their hq. He understands the need – their previous location had been compromised in the worst possible way, costing a life and an important one at that. But there’s still something almost ghostly about the bare bones of the building they’re standing in now – free of furniture, decorations, and a design concept in general. He puffs out a breath with his thoughtful sigh, watching it condense into smoke as it left his lips before tipping his head up to glance back at Santiago, arms folded across his trim torso. “Bigger is better, innit?” he quips and then, as if warming up to the idea (perhaps literally), he takes a few confident steps towards the center of the entry way. “I think it’s decent – I mean, it’s no Collins estate but as far as putting on the ruse of corporate monotony, this place does its job.” His arms uncross so he can make a vague hand gesture to map out Santi’s aforementioned decoy office. “I’m sure you’ll need a sexy receptionist to complete the facade, yeah? A pretty, young thing to greet any unwelcome guests and make sure they never get to meet the head boss man. I’m thinking about yea high,” he holds his hand at his exact height so there’s little mistaking where he’s going with this, “probably brunet since blonds are so predictable. Looks as good in a suit as he would in fishnets. Would look even better not wearing anything at all. Y’know, the works.” By the time he finishes his little hypothetical, Jagger’s grinning, eyes fluttering from Santi to Vincent. “You’d hire me, wouldn’t you, V?” Then he nods with conviction. “I like it enough.”
V I N C E N T;;
Vincent is annoyed, more than anything, but he knows better than to show this. He doesn’t feel like he’s been around long enough to appreciate the scale of the hit they had taken, losing their leader and overall sense of security just like that. He hadn’t even had the chance to get comfortable before his life, and the small semblance of routine that he had, was uprooted again, and he would be more than content to just let the others take care of things and let him know when things were okay again. It isn’t the right way to be, and he’s well aware of that, but it’s the truth. He just wants to sleep through all of this, let someone wake him when it’s over, when things are normal. And it doesn’t help matters that it’s fucking cold. He wants to actually murder Santiago for dragging him around the city in this weather. He shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping over the place with a slight disinterest. “It’s, you know… a place.” He shrugs. It sucks, because he hates his own apartment with a passion, and the HQ had become something of a second home for him. He doesn’t know if this place feels like that, or ever really could, but there’s little that can be done about that. He fixes a glare on Jagger for the first half of his little tangent, before rolling his eyes and letting out a long sigh when he realizes he’s referring to himself. He shouldn’t be surprised. “Mm, not for the HQ. Maybe for myself for a night,” he jokes, but then his thoughts get a little ahead of him. “And only if you wear a cute little outfit. And a pair of those thick-rim glasses.” And get a nice sturdy desk, he thinks, but has the decency not to say. Wow, so apparently that’s a thing for him. He clears his throat, looking back at Santiago. “Up to you, boss. I’ll gladly help dress it up. Spending money is a talent of mine.”
This place doesn't have the same feeling as their old headquarters and it places Santiago in a frame of mind where he isn't sure how to feel about that; good, bad or numb to the whole thing. It's probably a bit of everything but he's not complaining, for a change. His eyes scan around briefly as if taking it all in some more. "Mhm sí, bigger means more room for expansion." The last part is more of him just voicing thoughts out loud. He's thankful to not be doing this alone, though he doesn't voice that, at the end of the day he can't afford to seem weak, not even around his two companions. Probably and especially not around them, given the fact that would be more embarrassing to be honest. He'd never hear the end of it from Jagger; whom he's watching contently stroll to the center, for a moment he can't help but quirk his lips rather amusedly at the mention of 'Collins estate'. Hell maybe it's the younger man as a whole that's got his attention and amusement. Of course he'd make his way to the center of something, it's as annoying as it is CHARMING, meanwhile Vincent just seems more disinterested than anything else before glaring towards Jagger. That earns a snort from Santiago as he looks back to the latter, he doesn't know what monotony means, nor does he ask but he gets enough of the point to think their on the same page, what a concept. "Good! that's what I wanted to hear," He claps, rather pleased so far, he'd almost expected the dislike for the place to be stronger, so to hear nothing really that would hold him back was welcomed. A chuckle this time escapes him when Jagger starts to make gestures and emphasize about himself being a 'sexy receptionist'. The fishnets part is what makes it less funny and for a second Santiago swears it's warmer in the building, this is only made more true when Vincent adds to it, leaving Santiago to lick at his lips and place a hand on his hip. "I'm sure the receptionist could be arranged, along with you know-- the desk they might need." Vincent may of had the decency to not say that out loud but Santiago sure as hell didn't. He takes a few steps for a moment, idly walking, the place sort of echos his heavy steps, mental note, sound proofing and good flooring. Looking towards Vincent he cants his head to the side, his arms now fold across his chest. He's been called boss before but only now does it have more meaning, it sits HEAVY on him, it's a realization that, joking right now aside is very much real. "I'll let you decorate the whole place if you want tigre, I've got enough to do, I trust you." As much as he would love to help it's really all too true, that isn’t to say he wouldn’t want to be completly out of the loop, or lacking a part in it. It’s just that he trusts the others sense enough to leave to to him. Santiago nods towards Jagger, chuckle escaping him again before he can even say anything. "and maybe you could help too chico lindo, s'long as you don't forget that desk." As if he wouldn’t actually let the other help, of course he would, doesn’t mean he still didn’t like messing with him though.
V I N C E N T;;
“Well, is that the case? Just fuckin’ say it, then.” Vincent had never been under the impression that Santiago had taken any particular interest in him, but the revelation that he may have doesn’t surprise him much. He suspects certain events may have piqued his interest. There’s a momentary pause, where he decides whether or not to play that up at all. In the end, a resounding ‘why not’ is what he comes up with. “I make a fine distraction, if that’s what you need. But I don’t need to tell you that, yeah?” He grins, already getting a head start on that distraction. “Just say the word.” The conversation is quickly taking a rather sappy turn, and Vincent isn’t really here for it. He doesn’t want an inspirational lecture from the man, doesn’t want to talk about Santi’s parents or, god forbid, his own, and he sure as shit doesn’t want to talk about his future anymore. He had helped the conversation along at first, but the anxiety that’s creeping up on him now tells him to shut up about it. “Thanks, I guess. I’m too fucking old to have to be told that, but really, thanks.” He pauses just long enough to let out a deep sigh, staring down at his hands as he picks at his nails, a habit he’s developed when he’s feeling nervous or uncomfortable (one that, obviously, only crops up when he’s sober). “Hell, I can always be an escort. I’ve got those skills down already. And I’m pretty enough for it, in my humble opinion.” He hates the fact that this isn’t the first time this has crossed his mind.
Santiago hums softly in response before speaking, that was the case and if Vincent wanted him to voice it then why not oblige some. "I'd miss your company tigre, very much so." He'd taken an interest the moment the other stepped foot near him for the first time. It wasn't unlike him to fancy younger men, nor was it unlike him to try and seduce the rookies that he occasionally thought he could shack up with. It's a wonder he didn't press the subject sooner to be honest, but given everything that happened it makes more sense he supposes. Santiago could be a bit opportunistic after all and this is nothing if not opportunity knocking at his doorstep. Vincent amused him and not in some childish way or a mocking sort, but in the kind of way that really peeked his interest, for whatever reason. He thinks the reason is probably mostly sexual, especially after their night with Jagger but... there's more to it than that. It's not often he finds himself actively wanting to look out for anyone he's slept with, at least not for long. It seems Vincent has managed to get under the wire somewhat, in that sense; Santiago has yet to know if he likes that or not. Vincent is flirting with him now though and the man can't help but lick his lips idly. "Oh not at all, I recall how good of a distraction you can be." He tilts his head in an upwards motion to emphasize this, lazy grin on his lips as the corner of them tug more on one side. He leans away from the wall now, stalking forward; this was easier than thinking-- whatever this was going on now. Easier than feeling stressed about the things he needed to do. "and I could really use that right about now." He purrs, his thoughts still swirling around in his head. Fuck there's still so much he has to do, still so much he should be doing right this very moment. But here Vincent is offering his company and Santiago being Santiago wants to take it, like an apple in the garden of Eden. He takes the hint when the other tries to veer away from the subject, part of him is grateful, he doesn't do well with sappy moments either, sort of kills the whole intimidation factor he prefers; it's just sometimes, like now when his head is so heavy he can't help but get sentimental. He can recall a time when that wasn't the case, back when he was in Spain and a sentimental Santiago didn't exist. It's there now though, as real inside him as the American Dream he's forged for himself...although he doesn't think this life is what most people have in mind when they think that. He eyes Vincent as he picks at his nails, he doesn't think too much into it, although he probably should. There's not much in the way between them as he simply watches for a moment before speaking again. "See I think you're more than pretty, I think..." He pauses briefly as a hand moves to Vincent's chin, it's a light touch, one that doesn't move away or pull back. "captivating suits you better." It took him a moment to recall the word he was looking for but he does it, the pleased look on his features says as much. "I'm sure we can find something else for you to do, before resorting to that." Like me, he wants to say, those two words linger on the tip of his tongue. The thought of Vincent being an escort sort of bothers him, he doesn't have a right to be bothered he's aware and yet it does all the same. "You could put those skills to use elsewhere in the meantime, if you wanted to." Santiago acts as if it’s casual when he says it, but the look he gives the other is too predatory to even come close to that.
it’s events such as these – formal events where his primary task is to look pretty and make people fall in love with him – where jagger excels. yes, his drug peddling is lucrative and easy but that tends to be kept in the undercurrent. it’s hard to show off when he has to be secretive. now, as sans’ date for some proper schmoozing of another syndicate, showing off is essentially his objective and he takes that job very very seriously.
jagger even smells expensive, dripping in an armani cologne where a single spray probably costs more than a minimum wage worker makes in an hour. his suit is custom made (does he own any that aren’t?), elegantly embroidered dragons weaving and curling their way around his long legs on the silken trousers. besides their dazzling red, green, and purple designs, he’s in all black, at least as far as his clothing is concerned. his nails are blood red courtesy of baby’s christian louboutin polish and it adds just another element to his look that puts him way out of everyone’s league.
everyone except maybe sans. for all their endless irritation towards one another, it’s no secret that they have a mutual appreciation for the extravagant. they’re on the same level, the same plane, but jagger would sooner die than point that out. he’ll always, always act the superior in everything except for age. his fingers undo just one more of his blouse’s buttons under his tailored suit coat as their car pulls up in front of the venue, for maximum sex appeal of course. “do i look positively fuckable?” he asks, flickering a glance back at sans with a smirk. it’s clear in his eyes that he’s excited, his whole body practically vibrating with energy as their driver comes around to open the door. // @ambitchixus
Santiago was going to treat all of this like a well oiled machine-- something that refused to be ruined, tainted again by anyone else. It would no longer be something that wasn’t taken seriously enough, things would be double checked, triple checked if they had to be. He would strip down the shell of what they had been and open it up; fill it with mechanical parts. A machine does not get corrupted, it continues to work as long as it’s maintained. He wouldn’t allow himself to end up like his friend, his former leader. D E A D. Santiago refused to die and have everything he’d ever worked for crumble beneath him, as if it had all been an empire of dirt. That’s why he was here now at any rate, trying to gain connections, he couldn’t afford to be disrespected and needed to control the situation fast with The Saints, otherwise no one would RESPECT him and in turn no one would respect THE KINGS. So he finds himself looking to extend the Vice Kings crime syndicate towards the AK74′s own. It’s the only way he feels they can have an upper edge, The Saints may have not been around as long as the kings, all the same they’re coming in hot enough at them that it leaves Santiago a bit angry and troubled. He’s always hated cleaning up others messes and yet that’s all he still does. He’s dressed to the nines as if he was now somebody; he was, he liked to think. Wearing a heritage tuxedo that commands attention, defined by a structured cut that highlights the precious jacquard and finished with black silk faille trims. Tigers adored on it against a dark blue base, weaved into silk fabric ( the tigers made him think of vincent at the time, earning the softest of smiles a grin across his lips ). Square black glasses sit atop his face, the inner face in tortoiseshell, it’s more a fashion statement than anything else, considering he doesn’t actually need them. He tops it all off with black rose and thistle embroidery suede loafers. Enough about his own attire though, because as the car pulls closer to the venue, he finds himself staring at Jagger yet again; the man looks phenomenal. Santiago doesn’t regret bringing him for even a second, on simply a work related note it was a smart move, the other knew how to mix and mingle better than anyone else he knew, save for himself, he thinks. As much as he finds himself getting irritated with the other that much he can admit to, at least internally-- he’s not so sure he wants to voice this out loud, Jagger wouldn’t ever let him hear the end of it. It’s like the other an him are on the same page, the same wavelength, most of the time that’s probably the problem. Tonight though, it works, it’s needed. Santiago purrs with delight, his voice husky and his accent thick as he speaks. “More than that querido,” There’s a pause for a moment, his hand casually sinking towards Jagger’s thigh right before the car comes to a stop, it’s a light touch, barely there. “you look divine, like art.” Museo del Prado in Madrid would be so lucky to have something half as decadent as the man before him displayed. There’s a slight smirk on his lips before he goes to speak again, eyes doing another once over at the other. “Why I don’t think they’ll stop staring at us the moment we walk in.” He likes to sprinkle in compliments about the others appearance here and there, it’s surface level but what about them usually isn’t. It’s also the easiest thing to admit to without earning some little quip from the other and vice versa he thinks.
V I N C E N T;;
Vincent snorts at the question, rolling his eyes. “From what I gather, Jagger’s been pretty good company. You’ll be okay.” It’s a joke, of course, but he really doesn’t want to even think about going back home. Honestly, he doubts it’s even an option anymore. He gives the next question a little bit of honest thought before he answers. He doesn’t know, honestly. He doesn’t know if this is the right place for him, if he can even make himself anything more than a burden at the moment. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’ve never even had a real job. I had an interview for one, once. I showed up stoned.” He chuckles at the memory, although it led to major consequences for him. He doesn’t need to think about that part of it. “It’s safe to say I’m not cut out for that. Maybe I’m not cut out for this bullshit either but we’ll see. I’m here for now.”
“Who’s to say I wouldn’t still miss your company though.” Santiago states, it’s pretty matter of fact, as if he knows the answer already, as if he would miss Vincent’s company-- perhaps. He’s casual enough about it, with the wry little grin on his lips, like he’s amused both at Vincent’s own joke and now himself. Never having a real job was something he could relate to himself, he thinks in his younger years he might of fucked up just as much and ended up stoned at some interview, that is had he ever actually tried to get one. It’s all as comical as it is sad, so he feels for Vincent in a way, even if he doesn’t voice as much, still he wants to offer something in the way or words. “and you think I have? I grew up on the streets of Spain amigo and look at me now, no real job under my belt.” The only thing under his belt so to speak was a gun instead. He doesn’t get into details about his past, it’s something not even their late boss was all that privy too, beyond the need to know stuff anyway. Yet he’s being candid for the briefest of moments. “Yet here I am, I like to think it amounts to something, even if it wouldn’t make my parents proud.” He snorts, chuckling slightly at the very thought, as if he made them proud anyway. “I think you’re cut out for something, maybe not...the...what’s the word...” He muses, mundane had been what he was looking for, but he isn’t able to work that word out so instead he goes simple and replies with; “eh, boring,” Santiago gives a small wave of his hand in defeat, continuing. “but you’ll figure it out.” There’s a small pause, he looks away, in thought somewhat, contemplating before looking back towards Vincent. “besides I’m glad to have you here, for now.”
It’s cold out, there’s a CHILL in the air and wind is briskly blowing at a steady pace that makes him wish he picked a different day ( any day honestly ) to go out and look at a potential NEW HIDEOUT. He’s always been a naturally warm person and the coat he’s wearing helps but this is even a bit much for him ( he makes a mental note that if they go with this place to get the heating fixed ). This needed to be done though, sooner rather than later at that, considering everything had been being planned at the warehouse since... Santiago doesn’t want to dwell on the past, he’s always been one to shovel it down deeper than a body six feet under; so why start now? Still he has to wonder what’s next, where does everything that’s happened lead them, where does he lead them? The world seems so heavy on his shoulders, it’s a good thing their built for the weight. “So,” He finally speaks, breaking any silence that had been accumulating in the empty building. “what do you think?” Eyes flicker to the TWO men before him, shoulders rolling as he lets out a long sigh, continuing. “It’s bigger than the last place, the location is less...” He has to think on the word for a moment but thankfully it comes to him. “central but that’s better for keeping things quiet. We don’t want a scene the cops show up too because we have people in and out.” He’d thought a lot about this, in an effort to keep his mind off, other things, focus on work and keep going; that would be his mantra. “I’m thinking we set up some office shit on the first level, make this place look real profesional and go from there, we had what we had as a front last time and it worked but not well enough.” If it had worked better they might not be in this position. He’d have some of their accountants work up a business plan for a new front, he hasn’t decided on what yet, but anything is better than nothing. That’s if they even go with this building, he wants opinions and he hopes that Jagger and Vincent can give them to him...somehow he thinks at least Jagger won’t mind voicing his opinion. Santiago could almost snort in amusement at the very thought. @vincentnilsson @jgger
ot3 au’s;; greek mythology
OT3 AESTHETIC;; I can't help but think of you. In these four walls my thoughts seem to wander, to some distant century. When everyone we know is six feet under; when all of our friends are DEAD and just a memory.
K E N N E D Y;;
“lookit!” they all but waddle over to santiago, flippers making a slapping sound everywhere they walked. “i’m like a little penguin!” honestly, they’re having the time of their lives and they haven’t even gotten in the water. every time they catch sight of their own reflection – whether it was in the mirror in the changing stall or on the surface of the crystal clear waters, they can’t help the peal of giggles that slips from their lips. they’ve opted for the full wet suit, knowing that they are a human of the smaller variety and, despite the warm waters, they’re likely to get cold soaking wet. they even have little floaties ringed around their arms so that they don’t get too distracted by something pretty at the bottom of the reef and forgo air to go chase after it.
their smile only gets brighter at the reassurance that they’d have all the time in the world. it’s a nice change of pace from the tension mounting back at home. even without the threat of the spades, there was always a heist to be prepared for, deals to make, or messes to clean up – kennedy’s specialty. although they’re probably better suited for a life lived on the edge of a knife for their rocky upbringing, kennedy has learned from this trip that they could adapt to be pampered too. hell, even just moving in with santiago is self indulgent of them and a step towards a better life.
but they’re not about to get all sappy about that now.
“are you ready? i was worried they weren’t going to have flappy flippers in your size!” they point down at santiago’s feet, wiggling their own toes so that their significantly smaller flippers danced. “amazing!” they declared before toeing closer to the water’s edge. what an odd pairing – santiago standing miles above kennedy’s diminutive stature – but they would have it no other way.
Santiago can’t help the smile that crosses his lips when Kennedy speaks, they really are charming in the sense that Santiago can’t help but let out a chuckle. Santiago unlike Kennedy, opted for just the vest, sure he’ll regret it later but right now, he doesn’t really seem too. He’d just bought these swim trunks and it would be a shame to not show them off, right? “I can’t help but wonder what that makes me then.” Another laugh escapes him, his smile never faltering as he looks at the other, ears hearing the slapping sound with every step. That could get a bit annoying after awhile, but never from Kennedy-- their just too adorable and Santiago is far too fond of them. Being here was really what they all needed, what Santiago needed, even with their boss around now, there was never any time for slacking. The other gangs and their lifestyle just wouldn’t allow for it. For now though he could relax, he could lavish someone with his attention that didn’t involve blood and gunfire. That person as of right now would seem to be Kennedy, for this he is grateful. His shoulders can already feel the tension being lifted, even if it’s all in the back of his mind. “I do kinda have big feet don’t I, Dios mío ” He snorts, it’s not so much of a question just an observation about himself. He looks towards Kennedy’s own once toes are wriggled around for emphasis. “Mhm but sí, I’m ready!” Santiago speaks, trailing after the other, flippered feet finally hitting the water as it swells slowly in and out. “You’ll have to tell me if you see any of those...what are they called...that little nemo fish from that one movie we watched?”
V I N C E N T;;
The boss is dead, and there is a tangible air of anxiety about the gang. Vincent thinks that maybe he is more prone to these feelings than the others, but he would find it hard to believe that the others don’t notice. The general feeling of fear, like they’re teetering, unbalanced, on the edge of something terrible; like no one knows what’s going to happen or what to do next. And Vincent, new and inexperienced and vulnerable, left hanging without any direction. “S’okay.” He’s quiet, in a way that isn’t typical for him. He can’t help but think that he’s being a nuisance, and it doesn’t help matters that he doesn’t really understand the nature of his relationship with Santiago. They aren’t close, not by any measure of the word; they didn’t have much in common at all other than, apparently, a fuck buddy. But he’s also seen Vincent orgasm, and he isn’t sure if that should make him more or less uncomfortable. He can’t help but chuckle quietly at that thought; it is a little strange, isn’t it? He shakes his head at the question. “No, of course not. I’m here to offer you my company. I’m feeling generous.” He pauses, the instinctive attempt at self-congratulatory humor hanging awkwardly between them. “You’re gonna get this shit together, right? I don’t want to have to go back home. Or get a real job.”
“Oh is that so? Well I suppose I could use it.” He replies back coolly, maybe if he does give his usual sly remarks he might feel better, he might feel anything other than whatever he’s feeling. But those feelings still linger in the air, still linger in him, he had to get his shit together, not only for his own sake. Especially not for his own sake, folks may say what they will about him, granted most of those things probably true-- but he does care for this group, more than he’d ever admit to. Enough so that he wishes he’d been the one who died.... “I’m going to, I swear it.” He speaks once again, there’s a tinge of seriousness in his voice he hadn’t expected and an intensity in his expression as he looks back to the other. Santiago shakes his head at any rate, looking back to Vincent after, sly smile on his lips. “If you go back home who would offer me such good company?” It’s a question, one he doesn’t need the answer to either way-- more teasing honestly than anything else. “Things are going to be hectic for awhile, I’m going to have to clean up this mess, a real job might be less stressful, you think you’re still up for this life tigre?” Now that’s a question, one he raises a brow over and cocks his head to the side curiously about. Not that you really left this life, at least not alive; still he poses his words out in the open. He’ll clean all of this up by any means he thinks, he just might have to become more RUTHLESS again because of it, after all look where being who he’d become got him...
Santiago had plenty on his plate now and plenty more on his mind than he honestly knew what to do with. He’d have to discuss things with the others and yet he was simply trying to gather himself before doing so. Leaning against some wall in a secluded part of the warehouse proved useless to curb his anger or settle his fears and sadness. They’d lost their boss and he...he lost someone so dear to him that he’s sure he’d struggle with once the numbness and shock washed away. He wishes everything else he’d felt could be washed away just as easy, Santiago wants to fly off the handle, it’s easier that way; yet he knows the gang is slowly becoming a former shell of itself and he refuses to let it die along with their boss; refuses to honor their leader that way. ”Forgive me Vincent, I didn’t see you there amigo.” He finally speaks up, he’d been so involved in his thoughts for a moment that he almost feels bad for somewhat ignoring the other. His tone though was someplace between somber and impersonal and honestly even the term of endearment wasn’t the per usual one he’d quip up, the most obvious change in demeanor being the use of the others name before anything else. Still it wasn’t as if it was Vincent’s fault and after everything between them during the vacation he thinks he can muster up a better attitude. “Did you need something tigre, or just looking for my good company?” Santiago snorts, it lacks the amusement it might have normally, so much for mustering up anything better. @vincentnilsson
