lillin:
@praefervidus
“You know, it never snowed where I’m from!” He has said this many times now, just as he repeats that he never thought anywhere would be colder than Salem ( except, he would admit, after a pause, maybe the North Pole. ) but the snow! Gods and devils, there was so much snow! It’s so cold – colder than he is!
But, as he tired himself out, it is decided that snow isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Incubi are plenty chilly enough, after all, and need no help with that. Besides, the novelty of lobbing snowballs at Meerin wears off once the retaliation begins.
So instead Sterling has staked his claim on the hot tub, reminded of how lovely being warm could feel – and how much lovelier it might be if only Meerin would join him.
“Do you think that’s changed now? Two hundred years is a long time, and there’s that – what’s it called? Climate change? Greenhouse effect, I think. I read that the polar ice caps are melting.” Sterling rests his elbows on the edge of the hot tub, eyes following the man in the room beyond. “Is that where polar bears live? Polar ice caps? I don’t imagine they’re very happy about what’s happening, then. Polar bears like the cold.” This is all rather beyond Sterling, whose experience in the modern world often extends no farther than books, or that horribly confusing internet thing that Meerin tried to show him – however, he does enjoy googling, as it feeds his insatiable curiosity, and his is very keen to parrot his findings to any who will listen to him.
He licks his lips. “Are you cold, Master? Because if you are, then there’s room enough for two in here – or even three, if you want to invite that waiter you seem to like.” He doesn’t mean for this to be hurtful. Not to Meerin, anyway. Mostly he just hurts himself with these implications. Perhaps he will hurt the waiter too, if it comes to that.
“I don’t think you’ll feel so sad for the Polar Bears when you see what they do to Seals.” he said absentmindedly as he paced the room - eyes roving over the book within his hands as he finished reading the passages left on the page. Sterling - after all - was very fond of all things living for some reason, The cuter and more helpless ones made all the better in the Incubi’s eyes.
He closed the book as Sterling addressed him by the title he had been given - leaning down to place the leather bound book gently on the bed. Sparing a moment - perhaps two - to lavish attention on the hound sprawled across the bed who whined at him, pushing his head into his hand. He whispered a ‘Good Boy’, ruffling his ears as he made his way towards the voice that continued to echo through the room.
He paused to lean against the door frame, hand on his own hip - his fingers stopping on the belt that held the robe securely upon his frame. He looked at Sterling, arms propped up on the edge of the tub, water dripping down his forearms onto the marble tile floor. The sight of it stirred something within him, something he endeavored to ignore. However successful he was in that would thankfully be for only him to know.
“You mean the waiter who spilled water all over the table?”
Meerin had perhaps been the cause of it, making a comment that flustered the poor man. He had meant nothing by it of course, harmless flirtation - if the comment could even be counted as such. Hardly his fault at all.
“I’ll pass.”
His fingers skimmed across the belt and loosened the robe at his waist, walking over to the tub - and to Sterling. The robe fell as he slowly eased himself into the water, abandoned in a heap behind him upon the floor.
"But Master -- !" For the moment, Sterling finds he is distraught. Though however superficial the feeling, he does so love seals. More so than polar bears. They have such cute faces! And pity any human who would dare harm them in his --
But his concerns are cut short, when there is something new and infinitely more pleasant to occupy himself with. As though drawn free of his own will, Sterling's arms reach out to welcome Meerin into the water. They wrap around the man's slender waist, and hold him near. His dearest Meerin -- beloved Master.
Teeth worry against his lower lip -- is he too forward? But his fingers are already sliding through dark curls. Oh, he loves them so. So pretty. His skin is so warm against Sterling's body.
"Mine." The word is a sigh that barely makes it off his tongue before he moves forward to kiss the other.
