ok SO Sigma has this interaction with Winston and we know now that Siebren met him when Winston was still a baby gorilla, and he was also friends with Dr Winston and im not saying im freaking out but im definiteLY FREAKING OUTÂ
Reinhardt continues to play the piano, repeating the piece heâs been playing when he reaches the end. Only when he hears a door close upstairs does he look up from the keys and towards the open hallway upstairs.
A smile immediately finds its way on his lips when he sees Zenyatta, dressed in the robe he had laid out for him, still looking a little sleepy. And he has to admit to himself that the young man simply looked gorgeous whatever he was wearingâŚor not wearing for that matter.
He continues to play while Zenyatta slowly descends the stairs, stopping a few feet away from him, his posture showing the uncertainty of how to proceed in this kind of setting.
Reinhardt finishes the last few notes of the piece he was playing before getting up and walking towards the young man.
âGood morningâ, he murmurs, smiling brightly. He resists the strong urge to pull Zenyatta close and kiss him. This was still work for the man and he had no way of knowing for sure that the other man was feeling the same way towards him. Even if he had admitted last night that he also felt a strong connection to him, the next morning was a new chapter.
âThere is coffee in the kitchen should you want it. I also have some tea somewhere, but I have to admit I am more addicted to the black goodnessâ, he explains, chuckling softly and brushing past Zenyatta, hoping he might follow.
He stops in his tracks when Zenyatta speaks up about the problem he finds himself in. A problem he had caused by not exactly being careful with the delicate outfit the young man had worn last night.
âI apologize for not being more careful with your clothes, Zenyatta. And of course, you can have something. If you like you can keep the robe youâre wearing. I will also make sure to drop you off wherever you are headed, we canât have you use the public transport in my bathrobe after allâ
Reinhardt walks into the kitchen, reaching up into a cupboard and taking out another mug for whatever Zenyatta would decide on having. Placing it down on the counter he turns towards the young man again.
âWould you like to have some breakfast? I havenât had anything myself yet and breakfast is the most important meal of the day after allâ, he explains, winking, reaching up to brush one annoying blond strand of hair from his face before scratching his beard. He would need to trim and shave later on, but all of that could wait.
Reinhardt had held Zenyatta close to his body, enjoying the warmth of the younger man against his skin, watching him with a soft smile on his lips. The man must have been exhausted after a long day and their shared moments because he soon fell asleep. Soft puffs of breath against Reinhardtâs skin.
Nestling himself a little more comfortable into the pillows and reaching for the blanket that lay at their feet, careful not to stir the younger man too much in fear of waking him. Pulling the blanket up over both of their bodies he had reached over to his bedside table, briefly touching the small touchpad there which would dim all lights in the house for the night.
The soft light of the moon that was by now high in the clear night sky was casting a beautiful silver hue on the manâs darker skin and Reinhardt had found himself watching the young man until he ultimately fell asleep as well.
He wakes slowly, stirring gently when awareness filters into his mind and he remembers the night before. Opening his eyes, he sees the young man nestled comfortably against his side, using one of his arms as a pillow while one arm was slung over Reinhardtâs chest, a peaceful expression on the young face.
As much as he would have loved to stay and watch Zenyatta sleep for a little longer, his bladder was demanding that he moved. He gently takes the arm slung around him and places it back to Zenyattaâs side before he slowly pulls his arm from underneath the manâs head. He freezes when the man sighs and stirs, worried that he might have woken Zenyatta up but instead, the younger one simply turns around, grabbing the pillow and with a deep sigh, he went back to a sleep, his breath slow and steady.
Silently he slips from the bed, arranging the large blanket back over Zenyattaâs body before getting up and grabbing his bathrobe. Heading towards the bathroom he takes care of the most urgent needs of his body before brushing his hair and putting it back into a loose bun.
Walking back into the bedroom he looks over at Zenyatta, making sure the young man was still asleep before he slips from the room, leaving the door ajar.
It was still early but the sun was already out and basking the rooms in the gentle orange light of sunrise and Reinhardt stops a moment on top of the landing, looking down at the open floorplan of downstairs. The large white piano in the corner of the living room, right next to the large windows was basked in a beautiful hue.
Descending the landing he walks into the kitchen, grabbing everything he needs to make coffee. He wasnât sure if his guest liked it but he would see that once he wakes. While the coffee was slowly filtering through the machine and filling the room with its delicious smell, Reinhardt checks his phone with he had grabbed from the nightstand to see if any short-notice appointments had come in.
He seems to be lucky today and his day was kept free of appointments.
Making himself a cup of coffee and taking a first sip he takes the cup to walk into the living room, sitting down on the large couch facing the wall of windows that showed his garden and the forest behind it.
He missed having his companion in the house, it always made it more lively, but he had brought Albert, his two years old Irish Wolfhound, over to a friendâs place so he had the house for himself and his guest. He would pick him up later that day and would make sure that he takes him out for a long walk.
Slowly sipping his coffee, he enjoys watching the gentle rays of sunshine filter through the tree leaves until the sun rises above them and paints the living room in its bright light.
Setting down his empty coffee cup on the table in front of the couch, Reinhardt gets up to stretch himself, before walking over to the piano. Maybe his music would stir his guest into joining him downstairs.
Opening the lid over the keys he settles comfortably on the low bench in front of the piano, thinking about what to play. After a short moment of thinking Reinhardt begins to play a gentle, slow melody heâs been teaching himself lately, the papers of the score still laying on a nearby counter.
Reinhardt could see that there were many things on the young manâs mind and he wished to know what those dark thoughts were that plagued him. But it was too soon to ask about such personal things. All he could do was to give Zenyatta a pleasant night, make him feel like a prince and make him feel desired.
Watching the young man let go of the plush blanket makes a smile slide on Reinhardtâs lips, his patience and giving the man his own space was paying off and Zenyatta would come to him on his own terms.
Opening his arms and waiting until he could feel the younger man against his chest to close them around the smaller body, he smiles when he feels the pleasant buzz run over his skin where they touch.
He had held many men before thanks to his career and had lovers before but never had it felt anything like this. So right and easy, as if they fit together like two puzzle pieces. This man that he didnât even really know yet and yet he felt like he knew everything about him already. This man he only met a few days agoâŚalready occupied almost all of Reinhardtâs mind and waking thoughts.
Feeling those soft lips brush his own, his smile widens, and he lets out a low growl, almost the sound of a purr, his chest vibrating with the sound.
Pushing just a little closer he finally kisses the man properly, keeping it chaste and gentle between them, just their lips touching.
Yet when he feels Zenyattaâs hands slip around his shoulders he tightens his own hold on the man, pulling him even closer against his chest. His tongue slipping between them, brushing over the young manâs lower lip, asking for permission, for consent to take this kiss one step further.
And when Zenyatta opens his mouth in a soft gasp it takes all of Reinhardtâs control not to go too fast, wanting to almost devour the younger man, feeling an almost insatiable hunger and desire to be as close as possible to the man.
Pushing his tongue into the inviting mouth against his own he nudges Zenyattaâs, inviting it to dance with his own. Their breath coming in heavy gasps between them and Reinhardt canât seem to be able to have Zenyatta close enough, his hands stroking over the young manâs back, trying to push him as close against him as possible.
Breaking the kiss to allow them both to breath the bigger man realizes that he turned them both so that Zenyatta was lying on his back with him towering over him. Keeping his weight off the other man with one arm to Zenyattaâs right side he blinks a little confused before he presents Zenyatta with an open smile.
âWhatever are you doing to me?â, he asks before leaning down to kiss Zenyatta once more, a chaste, swift meeting of their lips before Reinhardt leans away again his smile still present on his lips.
âI have never felt quite like this beforeâ, Reinhardt says with an almost shy chuckle, moving his hand to brush the long hair out of his face, scowling when it instantly falls back into his face.
âI do apologize, I do not wish to push you to anything. I am sure you must be tired and I do not want to keep you from sleeping if that is what you desireâ
Reinhardt sensed that there was more to the story of Zenyattaâs past but if the young man did not want him to know then he would respect that. Everyone has a past and he understands that this was not exactly a setting in which one easily talks about it and its secrets.
But the large man canât shake the feeling that there were a lot of dark things in Zenyattaâs past, maybe even quite recent. The manâs face wasnât an open book but Reinhardt knew he was able to read people quite well. The way in which the younger man refused to look at him, instead focusing on the wall and the painting hanging there? Very telling.
If he had any say then maybe one day Zenyatta might tell him more about himself, about his past and how he came to work for the Shimadas.
Knowing it wasnât exactly his choice of work raised Reinhardts awareness. Was this young man victim to one of the Shimadaâs illegal activities?
Oh it was known that these men, Hanzo and Genji Shimada, were everything but innocent but for their own luck they had never made a mistake before and no evidence was ever able to be collected and used against them. Was maybe this man next to him what might finally bring them down?
Turning his head to fully look at Zenyatta he smiles when he sees the mischief in the manâs eyes. So they were playing a game right now, curious?
âMhmâŚI was just thinking about how beautiful you look, lying there all relaxed. And how much I wish to kiss youâ, Reinhardt murmurs, leaning further on his side and reaching one hand up to cup Zenyattaâs face, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of the dancerâs cheek.
He still couldnât place why this man has such a strong influence on him. It almost seems like he was drawn to him, like a moth to the light, seeking it not knowing the danger that it holds. But who was the light really? Was there danger in engaging with Zenyatta more? Or was not he the light? The unknown stranger with a lot of money?
And maybe Reinhardt was just thinking too much once again. Too many thoughts racing through his mind that could wait till morning to be entertained. Not when he still had this beautiful young man in his bed.
Taking in Zenyattaâs body while he cleans the manâs body he murmurs a quick apology after he brushed over the over-sensitive cock of his guest. He could simply sit there and watch the young man all night, his body beautiful, toned in just the right places, skin soft and smooth and as his eyes return to Zenyattaâs face he once again notices the most beautiful amber eyes he has ever seen.
Reinhardt lies down a little more comfortable into the plush pillows, keeping still and calm while he listens to Zenyatta. His attention was only interesting then, curious? He snickers softly before smiling at the young man when he corrects himself, using a different word.
Surely Zenyatta must not have had many clients, or lovers for that matter, take care of him in such a way so Reinhardt understands, it must be a little unnerving for the dancer to have someone pay such close attention to your well-being all of a sudden.
The washcloth had been discarded next to the bed, he could still put it in the wash tomorrow and he did not feel like getting up again right now.
Watching Zenyatta pat the spot next to him, where he had been before getting up to clean himself and with a smile moved closer to the young man yet keeping a little distance between them, wanting to give the man the choice of how much closeness he wished to have. Maybe he would not appreciate getting pulled against his own large body still warm from his afterglow.
âI have many questions, indeed. But I have the feeling you are not quite satisfied by my own answers. You have my word that I do not have my fingers in any illegal businesses and that my money is earned by hard and honest work. Should you be concerned about this. And I can tell you that my employees are indeed very happy and always have a lot of fun at workâ, Reinhardt explains, moving one hand to push a strand of hair out of his face and scratching his beard softly. Knowing that Zenyatta was working for the Shimada family it seemed important to Reinhardt to assure the young man that he was not a shady character.
âNow to my questionsâŚI do not mean to offend you when I ask this but...where are you from? You donât look like someone native to this country and if you indeed have been born here, where are your roots?â
Reinhardt knows full well that just because someoneâs skin is darker than the majority of the countries population it does not mean they are not a citizen of it, their parents might have been immigrants at one point or another and the large man hopes he does not offend Zenyatta with such a question.
But judging from the slight accent in Zenyattaâs speech he suspects that he might have lived somewhere else once.
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