welcome to the ball

I will never be defeated // I will never come undone // I will never know the way it feels to be just anyone // I will never fall just as you all fall around me so // I will never know samuel denis. 35.

[samueldenis-blog]

           Sam tugged on the leashes in his hands, a sign for his dogs to slow down; it was Monday morning, two hours before most people would even consider getting out of bed. Yet here he was, taking on the day already, slowly reaching the huge park; it was maybe a five-minute walk away from his apartment. Letting his greyhounds off, he let them run around, occasionally throwing the balls he brought with him to play catch.

          There wasn’t any people around, barely any, actually, so at the first sight of someone knew Sam’s dogs had to get distracted. “Val.” He called after one of them, hoping to spare the passer-by a good-natured attack from his dog. “Sorry, she always gets a bit too excited whenever people other than me are involved.”

[samueldenis-blog]

madamebadinter:

“I had no idea that my schedule was so dependent on her! Now I feel back in university where I have to organize all myself and God, I really do not have time for that”

“Now that’s what I call a challenge. Okay so why don’t you just–” she walked towards her office, “Wait here after we order while I talk with the CFO?” she suggested as she then moved to her chair and picked up her office phone. “What do you fancy eating?”

          “No problem.” Sam nodded.  “I don’t know, really. I’m going to leave the choice up to you. We’re in your kingdom now.” 

[rhysbousni-blog]

Passer la Soirée || Rhys & Sam

[samueldenis-blog]

rhysbousni:

Rhys wanted to complain when he mentioned that he should go, but the words had died on the lips Sam had so delicately placed a kiss onto. He stopped any potential movement, eyebrows lifting as he watched Sam turn around with a casual air that suggested such an act was standard. He was sure that the kisses in the night prior were more heat of the moment, hungry and needy. This one felt like neither of those. It felt domestic in the same way as when Rhys was serving plates for them during their dinner.

He watched Sam get up, finally leaning his weight up onto his elbow while paying close attention to the way the man dressed. Watching Sam’s back muscles shift and those adorable legs work themselves around the room made him realize Rhys had seen Sam without an article of clothing perhaps twice in his life, and this time was more intimate than the other. It filled him with a wonderful sensation, but also a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It was all new territory.

Hearing Sam speak made him smile. He waited until he could see his friend’s face completely before sitting up all the way, the blanket pooling at his lower abdomen. Rhys ran a hand through his dark, loose curls. ❝ Mm…I believe you asked something similar before it all happened, ❞ he mused, eyes shifting down to his cloth covered legs and then back up at Sam. ❝ I don’t see why not. I can’t really think of anyone in particular I’d rather have done anything with. It was very spur of the moment anyway. ❞ There was more to it. He just wouldn’t vocalize it yet.

           “I did. I was making sure. And I’m making sure now.” Sam said with a soft smile; last thing he wanted was to make someone else uncomfortable and even if Rhys seemed far from it, Sam’s brain was not going to give him a break-- sure, he needed to know that he was doing all the right things.

           “Spur of the moment.” Sam repeated and wondered what it meant-- spur of the moment, never happening again or spur of the moment, let’s do tat again in the future. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for the latter because he was; he really was. As unexpected and sudden the whole thing was, Samuel was glad it happened. It seemed that so was Rhys.

           Sam was feeling brave so he decided to get an answer to his own question. “Is this going to happen again?” He asked. It came out in a way that definitely suggested him wanting exactly that; Sam wasn’t going to hide it. His mind was still processing last night’s events, sure, but he ddn’t need a lot to figure out how much he liked and enjoyed it and that he definitely wouldn’t object to having that happen again and again-- whatever it was going to mean for the two of them.

[giaivan]

“Mother’s Day comes three times a year for me.”

[samueldenis-blog]

                 “Three?”

[madamebadinter-blog]

“I never behave”

“But I can TRY, because you asked nicely”

[samueldenis-blog]

       “Then, please, do try and leave me some time to enjoy myself that evening.”

[rhysbousni-blog]

Passer la Soirée || Rhys & Sam

[samueldenis-blog]

rhysbousni:

The rustling on the bed had stirred Rhys out of deep sleep and into a noncommittal slumber. He hadn’t fully woken up, but his spatial awareness had grown to a degree that allowed him to experience small parts of the real world. The first thing that registered to him was that he felt warm, very warm. His entire body had been thoroughly heated. Whatever had happened last night was giving him an utter bliss.

A bigger, less ignorable shifting lured him away from his sleep altogether. Rhys now came to the affirmation that someone else was in his bed; and, his face scrunched up in contemplation to speed up his brief early morning fuzziness and remember that said individual was Sam. The memories of last night flashed a sequence in the back of his mind and each new image brought about a new sensation to accompany it. He ached in some places, but most of his body was free of all tension. The heaviest part of his body was his head. It was still cloudy.

When a deep voice breathed out a greeting, Rhys mumbled unintelligibly. He wiggled his entire body to try and move, giving himself two unsuccessful tries before finally flipping over onto his other side. ❝ Too early… ❞ he whispered. He finally opened his eyes and gazed up to see the open, sated face of the man he’d spent he night with. No; it was more important than that, he realized. This was the face of the man he wanted to wake up to more often. ❝ Go back to sleep…Just two more hours, okay? ❞

            Samuel, knowing how his body worked, knew that falling asleep again was definitely not an option -- he wouldn’t be able to do that even if he tried. “I wish but I should head home. Somebody’s gotta take my dogs for a walk and that somebody should be me.” He said softly, thinking back to his two greyhounds, abandoned in his house. “But you sleep, I’m just gonna let myself out.” He smiled. Sam hesitated, for no longer than a second or two though, and leaned in to give Rhys a quick kiss.

            He sat up, looking around the floor to identify his clothing that got abandoned last night; his underwear and pants were the closest so he put on those first then walked a bit further and picked up his crumpled white shirt. His shoes were left for last and he sat back on the bed to put them on.

          While dressing himself, he tried to figure out whether right now was a good idea to talk about what happened the night before or if there even was a point in doing that. It didn’t seem like the air needed clearing; the atmosphere between them felt to be at ease and Sam couldn’t find a reason for him to believe that they weren’t okay. Yet still, he felt like he should say something. Make sure. He always wants to me sure.

            After a failed attempt of trying to speak, which meant Sam opening his mouth wthouth having figured out what he wants to say, he finally managed to throw in the question. “Are you okay with what happened lat night?” He spoke, shifting slightly so he could see Rhys’ face. It definitely didn’t mean that Sam wasn’t okay with that, probably quite the contrary although he still hasn’t processed everything yet, 

[rhysbousni-blog]

Passer la Soirée || Rhys & Sam

[rhysbousni-blog]

The initial lack of physical response from Sam had caused Rhys, even in his wine-addled mind, to attempt to pull back. He knew he wouldn’t take he action back; or rather, he couldn’t take the action back. Even so, he would do what was in his power to ensure the awkwardness of an unrequited kiss went without souring the night’s mood. That was his original plan, until Sam’s lips enveloped his and the chef’s lithe form was pulled forward into Sam’s arms.

Rhys melted into the kiss as if it and his friend’s arms were the only things tethering him to his apartment. Fingers had trailed down to his lower back and instinctively, Rhys pressed himself as close as possible. He could already feeling his skin heating up underneath his shirt where firm hands kept him in place. He was so ready to lift the article of clothing over his head when he noticed for a split second that he could no longer taste wine flavored lips against his own. The man let out a breath he didn’t know he’d kept in, standing a little straighter to press his forehead against Sam’s.

❝ Sam, ❞ he called softly in such a breathy tone that it sounded almost sinful. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look into those eyes to say what would come next. ❝ I have wanted this for so long… ❞ Rhys ran his hands down the back of Sam’s neck and trailed his fingertips along his back. He sucked in another breath to steel himself. ❝ If this is a bad idea, then there aren’t any good ideas left. Right now, I need you to fuck me. ❞ To accentuate his statement, he nodded his head and shifted his hips against the man, causing minor friction. It sent shivers down his spine.

[samueldenis-blog]

--

            It took Sam about two seconds to realize he wasn’t in his own bed, then two more to remember the reason why; with his eyes barely opened, he rolled to his other side, arm outstretched -- yes, Rhys’ sleeping body was very much next to him. Sam rubbed his eyes in order to make himself a little bit more awake and rolled back to his other side searching for either his phone or his watch -- he found the first one on the floor where his trousers landed last night.

            It was early; too early for some people, for Samuel just about the right time to wake up and start the day, even if it was a Saturday. Considering the circumstances, though, he was going to let himself rest for longer. He abandoned the phone, leaving it where he found it -- he’s going to deal with those two missed calls later -- and fell back onto the bed with a deep sigh. Sam must’ve woken up Rhys, too, because he could feel him shifting next to him.

              “Morning.” Sam muttered, his voice deep and raspy from having just woken up. He rolled to his side so he could face Rhys, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyelids threatening to fall shut again because this, right now, was very comfortable; too comfortable to keep himself awake. He hasn’t had the chance to sleep in in quite a while.

[madamebadinter-blog]

“Tell me about it. Hadn’t realized just how much Samantha kept my life organized…But she needed her holidays too…”

“It is chaos here! The labor reform is creating more unrest than predicted… If you don’t mind waiting we can order in hm?”

[samueldenis-blog]

           “God, yes. Suddenly, my schedule is a complete  mess and it’s coming from someone who’s fairly organized.”

            “This sounds like a great idea. I’m actually trying to have breaks that last for more than ten minutes so  the wait should do me some good.”

[madamebadinter-blog]

“I must admit that the place does indeed make it more exciting”

“You always do your job right but you are wrong if you think I am the one needing being protected. You are protecting the others from me snapping”

[samueldenis-blog]

        “Of course. I hope you’re going to make my job easy for me and b e h a v e.”

[rhysbousni-blog]

Passer la Soirée || Rhys & Sam

[samueldenis-blog]

rhysbousni:

Rhys was incredibly starved for human touch when he was sober, but an inebriated mind only made the skin on his body tingle more as he watched Sam’s unyielding stance. There was no tension in his friend’s body. It was exactly opposite of Rhys’. The chef was locked in place, frozen, eyeing caught on the way the other man’s lips looked forgotten. They were lonely, he surmised in his overly clouded head. They needed something.

When Sam spoke, Rhys was drawn from his reverie and he gazed up to meet an expression that he couldn’t read. He knew how he may have appeared to Sam. His pupils were dilated, eyes still half closed, and his lips parted in a way that begged for attention. He could feel his hands unconsciously moving up toward the mass before him. His fingertips danced along Sam’s forearms and drew lines upward until they fell on his shoulders. As he opened his mouth to reaffirm his desire to have the man stay, he could feel the dryness in his throat become debilitating. It was now or never.  

❝ Stay. ❞ The word came out more direct, more sure than the previous time. Only a breath after, he closed the minute distance between them by chastely brushing his lips against Sam’s. They were soft, pliant, and he released his final inhibition by pushing himself slightly forward into a full blown kiss. As he inhaled into the embrace, his fingers dug into the muscles that connected Sam’s neck and shoulders, then lifted them up to cup the man’s cheeks.

            Rhys’ touch felt electrifying yet comfortable-- like it belonged, like it was right. A small smile once again crept onto Sam’s face as he stood in front of the other man, standing still, not moving an inch, just looking-- staring. The closeness of the other body didn’t bother him at all, surprisingly enough, better yet, he felt like it was something he needed.

           Samuel didn’t move for the first couple of seconds even though he was fully aware of what was happening and how Rhys’ lips pressed against his. Fingers dancing on his cheeks made him finally respond; he kissed back putting his all into the action. It didn’t take long before he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist, pulling Rhys closer into his embrace, eliminating any space between their bodies. Sam’s hands were pressed firmly against Rhys’ lower back, one being ver close to creeping underneath it to touch the skin.

           Sam was the first to pull away, only slightly, enough so he could speak, in a low voice, almost a whisper. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” He asked; not to say that he thought it was a bad idea, probably quite the contrary but with his mind so clouded and exhausted, he didn’t have the time to think about anything past this moment; Sam’s always analytical brain refused to ponder on what would happen after they kiss or-- well, do more -- so he had to ask, make sure, get feedback, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

          Truth be told, though, Sam was hoping for absolutely no objections from the other side -- it’s been so long since the last time he was in the position to experience this kind of touch and intimacy and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. Now, it hit Samuel like a lightning, unexpected and he simply felt like he wanted, needed more of it.

[madamebadinter-blog]

“I apologize for the delay, my secretary is in holidays, what can I do for you?”

[samueldenis-blog]

        “Must be rather tough, I still haven’t found a replacement for my assistant and it’s a nightmare at the office.”

       “I was hoping for your company for lunch maybe but you seem to look plenty busy so maybe it’s not a good time.”

[madamebadinter-blog]

“It is a good place, I will give it that much. And they do listen to my remarks, so I do think that the cocktail will be enjoyable”

“You are a savior you know that right?”

[samueldenis-blog]

        “Talking about it made me quite  excited for it, honestly.”

        “Why, thank you very much. I try. Hopefully, I’ll do my job right as your knight in the shining armour for the night.  Fending off the most unbearable ones.”

[rhysbousni-blog]

Passer la Soirée || Rhys & Sam

[samueldenis-blog]

rhysbousni:

The laughter and conversation, the food and wine, the atmosphere was something that Rhys didn’t breathe in often. He was used to cheap thrills with people. Friends were uncommon as everyone was automatically seen as an acquaintance, so hour long conversation was nonexistent. What he was doing with Sam, nearly three hours later and well into the night, was unheard of. Due to scheduling issues, Rhys rarely spent more than an hour with the man. He was going to drink it up for as long as his wine rattled brain could allow.

❝ For what it’s worth, that sounds incredible. I happen to be a sucker for simplicity, ❞ he told Sam, his feet propped up on a small glass table. He was comfortable. His body was sinking into the cushions of his seat and his head lolled back. Rhys could barely see his friend through hooded eyes, but the look of domestic comfort in the blur that was Mr. Denis was enough to make his stomach feel warm. ❝ And anyone would be lucky to have you in a fluffy, monogamous relationship. They’d just have to keep you out of the kitchen. ❞

When Sam moved up from his sitting position, he felt like all of the warmth he’d held onto was draining fast. Rhys moved away from where he was relaxing in a breakneck pace. His short legs carried him over in a single breath, and his next inhale happened to be filled greatly with Sam’s exhale. He could feel it again, mind not previously processing the ramifications for getting so close to his friend’s face. Being there, however, meant his skin heating up again.

There it was. The words were caught in his throat. Stay. Stay here with me. If he could form those words, this wouldn’t have to end yet. He just needed to know how to move his lips. Rhys glanced down at Sam’s lips to see if those words could be found there, but instead, he was met with pink. A soft pink. The cupid’s bow made him sink his teeth into his lower lip. He knew those lips. He saw the way they pursed during the ❛ r ❜ sound of Rhys’ own name. He liked those lips. He’d wanted to taste them for what felt like ages, and now felt like the right time. Drunk mind be damned. ❝ St-stay… ❞ he stuttered, eyes never leaving those lips.

            Samuel let out a laugh, his head thrown back slightly. “Relationship, right. Having me in a monogamous relationship would be a nightmare. I’d barely have the time.” Not to say that Sam wouldn’t be willing to make time but he was married to his work, first and foremost and there’s rarely anyone who;d be willing to put up with that. Truth be told, this was the exact reason for why Sam’s last relationship ended. Samuel just doesn’t know how to make both things, his job and a relationship, work simultaneously and for them to work well together. Maybe one day.

            He was rather surprised to find Rhys so close to him so fast; his brain, influenced by the alcohol and the tiredness from the day, not quite catching up with what was going on around him. Truth be told, he might’ve had not just one too many glasses of wine but it seemed more like -- well, three or four too many; his head felt heavy and dizzy but at the same time his body was relaxed, all worm and tingly. Apart from the slight physical discomfort, Sam felt rather good; quite happy, actually.

             “Should I?” Sam answered to Rhys’ wish; he didn’t miss the way the other’s eyes traveled to his lips -- Samuel didn’t really know what to think about it or whether he should do something about it so he just stood there, heavy breaths, one after another, his head tilted to the side slightly as he looked down at Rhys, waiting.

[samueldenis-blog]

heloisetrudeau:

Ah, a workaholic, as many would bluntly put it . Then again, if work were what put him in a better mood and even allowed him to forget about everything else - as he put it, then why not. She briefly wondered whether he were married or had any children, and what they thought of his lifestyle, but knew better than to pry. “Not ridiculous, just different I guess. I felt the same during my undergraduate years - I beg to differ now, however.”

Showing him her phone background, which had a small list of her things to do for the week, she offered him an understanding smile - from one to another. “I have the same issue, I’m afraid. Turning my phone off helps.” Pausing at the question of her father, she swiped to her second background that was a family photo of her, with her father’s arm around her shoulders and her mother’s waist whilst her brother pulled a less than happy look. “Buisness. You may know him by face, Jerome Trudeau.”

True, most children of the rich became socialites merely due to their parents money. Heloise had purposefully kept out of the media limelight, and quite successfully if she could say so herself. 

           “I still remember my university years very well -- that was the time I used to run on coffee 24/7. I guess my ambition stayed with me; I worked a lot then, I work a lot now.” Sam chuckled. University was a calm but exhausting period in Samuel’s life, as much as it gave him, he was glad it was over. 

             “Oh, right -- now I do recognize him. Never met him, though. I don’t know if that’s lucky for me or not, I guess you’ll have to tell me.”

[samueldenis-blog]

heloisetrudeau:

Giving a brief shrug as he asked how long she expected to be there, that was something she had not fully thought about. It were mostly a market town, with the medina and the nearby Atlas Mountains being the most touristy areas - however she was more keen on trying the expedition to the Sahara for camel trekking. “Probably a week, a week and a half if I’m really pushing it. I’d want to spend one night in the Sahara, I’ve seen some organisations arranging tourists to spend a night in a camp.” 

“Do you think it would be safe for a woman to travel alone there? I know there would be no language barrier - but still?” She smiled briefly at him, grateful to find someone that had actually been and would be able to give her opinions that were not out of a travel guide.  “Are you planning to go anywhere this Summer?” 

           “Oh, that sounds rather exciting. Not my cup of tea, though, I’m more of a museums  and art galleries person when it comes to travelling and vacations -- that’s why I like Rome or Madrid as my holiday destinations.” Sam explained -- that’s why he was a regular at Louvre and knew almost every art gallery owner in the city, no matter how big or small it was. “But a night in the Sahara, you’ll have to tell me all about it when you’re back.”

            “It shouldn’t be a problem, I think -- although, I don’t think I’m a very credible source of information since, well, I’m not a woman.” Sam chuckled. “You’re not planning on going with anyone, then?”

             Samuel haven’t planned anything yet nor had he planned planning anything, to be completely honest. It’s always like that -- if he does end up going somewhere for a holiday, it;s always very last-minute, either based on a recommendation from a friend, something his assistant found or some research on line made by Sam himself. “I’m not sure, I haven’t planned that far just yet. But I’ve been thinking about going to Tokyo for two weeks or so but as a tourist -- every single time I’ve been there, it had been for business and I didn’t really have the time or the opportunity for any sightseeing.”

[rhysbousni-blog]

❝ Oh wow, you’re utterly incorrigible, Sam. Why do I even bother? ❞

[samueldenis-blog]

           “What...?”

[rhysbousni-blog]

Passer la Soirée || Rhys & Sam

[samueldenis-blog]

rhysbousni:

It took a few moments of silent contemplation to decide on which bottle he’d take for the evening. He was positive about the white wine, but the brand, age, and dryness of the drink really needed to suit both the chicken and the vinegar reduction of the meal. It would have to have a significantly less bitterness to it if he wanted it to bring out the full flavor of the meal, but too sweet would leave Sam and himself in an unpleasant stupor for the remainder of the evening. The last the he needed was to be knocked positively onto his ass.

❝ Then we’ll shoot for peak inebriation, steering clear of that one extra glass altogether, ❞ he said teasingly in response to the man’s suggestion of not being too drunk. Deft fingers traced over a bottle of Sauternes from Château d'Yquem. He’d bought it three years ago, and now seemed like the best time to open it. It wasn’t sauvignon blanc, but it would do nicely. ❝ And if I happen to accidentally give you that one extra glass, we’ll just have to call you an Uber, won’t we? ❞

Rhys moved back toward the front of the kitchen and grabbed two circular glasses from the dish rack, holding them in between his index finger and thumb of one hand while the other held the bottle. He sauntered over to the table, placed one glass in front of Sam, poured it until the chartreuse liquid filled it halfway. He then went on to do the same with his glass, setting the bottle in the middle f the table afterward before going back to the kitchen for the plates of food.

As he came back, he couldn’t help but feel like a waiter again. Of course, when he had been one, he wasn’t walking barefoot in lounge-wear, but this little detail made him feel even more amazing. Here he was, serving his friend a plate of last minute gourmet food while dressing for complete domesticity. It was intimate in ways he didn’t care to understand. ❝ Honestly, I’m just thankful you’re stepping away from your work, if even for a moment, ❞ he said then, positioning the plates perfectly in the center of where the chairs were placed. He took his own seat and reached for his glass, taking a tentative sip. ❝ After you, babe. ❞

--

           It did end up being one glass too many but, strangely enough, Samuel didn’t seem to care that much -- he was enjoying himself, actually; be it the wine, the food, the company, Sam would probably even go as far as saying that he was having fun. The thought of all the work he had planned for tonight kept on coming back, bugging him from the back of his head, his workaholic side never giving him a rest but with the help of the alcohol and the conversation going, he was able to ignore the voice telling him to go home, at least for the most part.

           “I could invite you over for dinner, too, but let’s be honest -- I couldn’t even dream to top you up when it comes to food since I’m hopeless at cooking. French toast and eggs for breakfast is as far as I can go with food, honestly.” He said before finishing another glass of wine. He set it on the table once it was empty and leaned against the back of the sofa again, his arm bent on top of it, the side of his head against his palm as he sat facing Rhys. “I’m a horrible husband material.” He laughed.

            Sam looked at the watch on his wrist and he figured he might be on his way to overstaying his welcome Or maybe this was just an excuse because he felt bad for not working, which was ridiculous to even think about this late at night. “I think I should head home, it’s getting pretty late now.” He told Rhys as he ran a hand through his hair, slowly pushing himself up from the sofa.