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[excommune-a]

♔ :3c

acts of intimacy — accepting.♔ » finding your muse wearing their clothes.

                ‘ i was just about to ask you where my jacket was. ’

                the leather jacket’s a little big for marcus, so on ivan it looks like it fits. on ivan, it looks vintage instead of old, and might be passable for expensive if they both didn’t know that it was pilfered from the lost-and-found of a parish church in new england. marcus is leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, feet crossed at the ankles. there’s a glow behind his eyes. he looks playful, he looks amused, he looks - enamoured, and he might well be. he pushes off the frame and has to lean up to kiss ivan, fingers curling around the cracked leather of his own coat.

[ivanturing-blog]

excommune:

                 marcus only needs to look at ivan, really look at him, to know that something is wrong. the smug come-pet-me attitude drops off some unknown cliff, and marcus is quick to make himself sat on the edge of the bed, instead, one hand reaching out for ivan. come here. ‘ i’d prefer to think you leave things lax because you miss me. ’ his brow furrows. ‘ you look like you’re gonna fall over. ’

     For a second or two he wants to explain, and he stands there in the doorway, uncharacteristically quiet until the feeling passes. Then he smiles, shrugs, and troops closer, sitting down a little heavily. “Long day.” Just barely, he holds him back from saying that’s all, because it feels too strong, too much like a denial. “I did miss you, though.”

[ivanturing-blog]

excommune:

            he broke in because it’s been eight weeks since he last saw him and marcus will do a lot of things, but he’s not going to walk away from ivan’s house just because mr turing isn’t home right now. he’s sprawled on ivan’s bed, shoes kicked off onto the floor, elbow propping up his head, looking far too pleased with himself.

                  ‘ your security needs a look-in, love. only took me ten minutes to get in. ’

     His head is hurting. It’s annoying, this constant undercurrent of pain, throbbing and twisting. He can’t help thinking about it as a physical thing, a violent red lump in his brain. On his way in he took two Tylenol, and it’s still throbbing. Of course it is. If it was as easy as Tylenol, he wouldn’t be in this situation at all. He’s full-body tired, feeling weak and out of sorts. As much as he’s happy to see Marcus, he kind of wishes it had been any day but today.

     “Did it ever cross your mind that I let you break in just to give you an ego boost?” There’s warmth in his voice, good humour too, but it’s tired, low, and there’s something not quite fully present in the way he’s standing.

[ivanturing-blog]

excommune:

             whilst ivan’s ruminating on how he hasn’t done this for a while, marcus is winging it; he’s point blank avoiding the fact that he’s never been in a position to follow through on anything, and resting all his weights on improvisation. that can only get him so far, but ivan is good-looking and tall and marcus is open to trying new things. ‘ i’m not sure i would call that brutal honesty, but you’ve got your points already. ’ he waits for his drink before: ‘ my name’s marcus. ’

     “Let’s not waste time splitting hairs.” He got himself a gin and tonic, which only has gin in it at all because he didn’t want to seem like he was high and mighty or something, just getting fizzy water and a slice of lemon while he’s ordering alcohol for someone else. It tastes good, though, top shelf stuff. The ice clinks in his glass when he sets it back down after a sip. “Ivan.” After a pause, ruminatively: “You know, I’m kinda regretting bringing points into the mix here, ’cause now I wanna win at flirting.”

[sandsvendor100]

seymour what are your stats

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[ivanturing-blog]

excommune:

               ‘ no. ’ his nose scrunches up. ‘ not even a bit. ’ buuuut he has, and is holding, marcus’ attention, which was probably the point. ‘ buy me a drink to make up for it? ’

     “Sure.” Ivan politely flags down the person behind the bar, and as he’s ordering it occurs to him that what he’s doing here, now, is trying to pick someone up at a bar. Which is odd. It feels out of character, or if he thinks about it more positively, fun. Exciting. New. It’s not like he hasn’t tried to pick guys up before, god knows he has, but it’s been a while. “Lemme make an appeal to you, though,” he says, resting a little more comfortably against the bar, “and say that I really believe I deserve at least a couple points for brutal honesty.”

[ivanturing-blog]

excommune:

      it always takes a couple of seconds for the brain to adjust to being spoken to, and a couple more to process what’s being said; it happens, and his face crumples up into a smile. ‘ wow. ’ he plants his chin on his closed fist.  ‘ consider me knocked over by your approach. ’

     “Wow. Really? Wow.” A pause. His eyes narrow a little, but there’s still a smile playing at his lips. “Really?”

[ivanturing-blog]

memoryserved:

Ken’s hand flattens to their chest. What a shocking, unexpected proposition Ivan’s brought to the table. “Goodness! You’d want to take moi? I might act the fool and ruin your sparkling reputation.”

     “My reputation’s honestly not that sparkling, Kennedy, and to be frank you’d only be doing it a service.”

[ivanturing-blog]

@excommune

     “You know, I don’t wanna be that lousy American who interrupts your day to tell you I love your accent, so I was trying to think of a way to say that without actually saying it.” His elbow tucks neatly onto the bartop. He smiles. “This is that way.”

[ivanturing-blog]

@strangrs

     “He’s great.” Great. Is that what you say about a baby. That it’s great. God, he hopes Joanna isn’t the type to offer to let him hold it. Him. The baby. God! “You know, sometimes I think babies just look like babies and people really just lie when they say they look like anyone but themselves.”

[ivanturing-blog]

memoryserved:

They lean at relatively the same angle they leaned at a minute ago, but smiling brighter, and less coy. “I believe I am free tomorrow night.”

     “Well, this is an amazing coincidence, because I have a plus one for a benefit tomorrow night and I’d just love to take you with me.”

[ivanturing-blog]

memoryserved:

   “If I’m invited to them, yes.”

     He leans forward, anticipatory. “And are you free tomorrow night?”

[ivanturing-blog]

@bratking

     “I promise this isn’t a power play. I have all my business meetings in here.” He’s lost in his own hedge maze, but he walks with a sense of purpose strong enough that it really doesn’t seem that way.

[ivanturing-blog]

@memoryserved

     “Hey.”

     “You like parties, right?”

[tootstunes]

Visit Original Link

[ivanturing-blog]

@ribleyscotch

     Someone’s bank account just got an additional lump sum of money. “Invest it. Or, I don’t know, buy something. Buy a boat. I have five!”

[ivanturing-blog]

memoryserved:

It’s not important, but he’ll leave fingerprints on the glass even if he thinks he won’t. They’ll be very small and very thin but they’ll be. It is important, but it shouldn’t be. Kennedy can’t see them.

There’s some silence a second after he’s done, while Kennedy wonders if they really care or are they asking questions for the sake of being a person who asks you about yourself. They sit on a bench meant for people with achy legs to watch the turtles from. “What d’you like about Jessamine?”

     Ivan wonders if they really care or if they’re asking questions for the sake of asking, then decides that it doesn’t really matter and shrugs. He couldn’t spot Jessamine from a distance but he knows her up close. “She’s seen a lot. You can tell.” She’s older than he is, he thinks. Almost seventy. “Sometimes you can just look at someone or something and know.”