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@scriptsopendoors-blog
sunshineandsemtex started following you
Jim! *he puts on a fake smile* Can I help you?
[A blandly disinterested look.] Hm? Oh, no- I’m just wandering. Don’t let me disturb you, dear.
Really? Wandering includes coming inside my house? Interesting. Anyway, Richie's out if you needed him. Can I take a message?
sunshineandsemtex started following you
Jim! *he puts on a fake smile* Can I help you?
*he grins* That’s true. *he leaves Damien against the doorframe, stepping back a few steps and looking him over once more, with a satisfied smile*
*he pouts mildly, sticking his hands in his trouser pockets* If I may, *he layers his voice with mild sarcasm* how long will I be waiting?
*he raises an eyebrow* Well, we’ll just see, won’t we? Why, are you getting im-pa-tient?
Of course not. *he shrugs* I was just wondering is all.
*he grins* That’s true. *he leaves Damien against the doorframe, stepping back a few steps and looking him over once more, with a satisfied smile*
*he pouts mildly, sticking his hands in his trouser pockets* If I may, *he layers his voice with mild sarcasm* how long will I be waiting?
*he laughs giddily* Careful! Or would you rather just stop here and deal with the floor? It might be a bit uncomfortable, but I suppose you can choose your own arena *he grins*
Oh no, it’s completely up to you Richie. I mean, personally I’d prefer the bedroom but it’s all you. *his smirk comes back full force in return*
Well, I’ll honor your request, I suppose. *he grins* I fully intend to be a kind owner, at the very least.
As I said, forever the gentleman. Even in the position of control. *he brings up a hand, pausing over the tie* May I, master?
*he laughs nervously* Let’s wait just a moment for that, shall we? *he takes Damien’s hand, grinning, and slowly turns them around, backing Damien into a doorway* As I said, I think I should take my time.
*he rolls his eyes, looking downright devious* Well then take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere.
*he laughs giddily* Careful! Or would you rather just stop here and deal with the floor? It might be a bit uncomfortable, but I suppose you can choose your own arena *he grins*
Oh no, it’s completely up to you Richie. I mean, personally I’d prefer the bedroom but it’s all you. *his smirk comes back full force in return*
Well, I’ll honor your request, I suppose. *he grins* I fully intend to be a kind owner, at the very least.
As I said, forever the gentleman. Even in the position of control. *he brings up a hand, pausing over the tie* May I, master?
Coming Home
Richard made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and let his head fall back to rest against the back of the chair. It didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things, he supposed. No one was killing anyone else, that was what mattered. He found that at the moment he did not care all that much about anything else.
“Yeah,” he replied tiredly, closing his eyes tightly and breathing in and out once, deeply. “Yeah, okay.”
"I'll be right back." He placed a quick kiss on the younger man's forehead, smiling weakly. "You get ready for bed." They could always talk more in the morning. They probably would end up talking more in the morning. There was a lot to discuss after all. Just... not right then. It was too late and Rich was too tired and they were both overly emotional at this point. It would wait.
With that thought it mind Damien walked toward the bathroom, picking up cigarette buts and packets and the lighter along the way to throw out.
I suppose I did, didn’t I? *he positively giggles* I am a man who is true to his word, if nothing else… *he looks over Damien, slowly, from head to toe*
*he raises an eyebrow, slightly teasing* Having second thoughts?
*he grins* Definitely not. *he steps backward a few steps, still holding onto Damien’s collar*
*he stumbles forward, look surprised and nearly sending them both tumbling to the floor*
*he laughs giddily* Careful! Or would you rather just stop here and deal with the floor? It might be a bit uncomfortable, but I suppose you can choose your own arena *he grins*
Oh no, it's completely up to you Richie. I mean, personally I'd prefer the bedroom but it's all you. *his smirk comes back full force in return*
Coming Home
Richard stiffened immediately, leaning away from Damien to look him in the eye, suddenly and acutely concentrating on his husband.
“No,” he said, his voice steady once more, though he still felt the burning remnants of tears that had never come in his eyes. “No, we can’t. You can ‘t. He’s my brother, Damien, I can’t.”
His heartbeat, which had slowed down considerably when Damien had come to him, was now frantic. He knew it had been a bad decision to tell him, but he hadn’t thought that… He had thought he was putting Damien in danger, but perhaps he had wronged both of them. Both of the only people he really cared about, put in danger because of him. He whimpered helplessly, holding his head with one hand, wishing the world could simply turn back an hour.
Damien’s face fell, a look of pure hopelessness settling on once forced calm features. He just didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t Richie-?
Because it was Jim. It was as simple as that. It was his brother, the only family he seemed to have left. One of the few people he cared about. If someone had een threatening to report Richie he would have shot them down in an instant, begged and pleaded. He couldn’t imagine it happening to someone you’d known all your life, as bad as the situation seemed.
Slowly, hesitantly, he places a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Okay then, we won’t. But we need to work something out, all right?” He bit his lip, glancing down for a moment. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Richard let himself relax once more. They were all safe for now, at the very least. There wasn’t very much else he could do at this point. For the moment, Damien wasn’t going to report Jim and Jim wasn’t going to do anything to Damien. All he had to do was keep it that way. A task that would prove much more difficult to carry out than it was to propose, he was certain.
“I won’t get hurt,” he assured Damien quietly. “Jim, he makes sure of that. He cares for me too, believe it or not.”
He smiled weakly, and leaned into Damien, pulling away quickly making a face.
“You reek of those things, Dame,” he said with a cough.
A small, apologetic smile made its way onto Damien's face and he glanced guiltily at the packet and stubbed outs cigs on the table.
"I, um... slipped." He shrugged, rubbing small circles into Rich's shoulder blades absent mindedly. "It was just stress. I'll, uh, get rid of the other packs after a shower, yeah?" He carefully didn't mention the four packs he'd already gone through, and just how many there were hiding around the flat.
I suppose I did, didn’t I? *he positively giggles* I am a man who is true to his word, if nothing else… *he looks over Damien, slowly, from head to toe*
*he raises an eyebrow, slightly teasing* Having second thoughts?
*he grins* Definitely not. *he steps backward a few steps, still holding onto Damien’s collar*
*he stumbles forward, look surprised and nearly sending them both tumbling to the floor*
*he takes the collar of Damien’s shirt in one hand and pulls him in slightly, trying not to let his nerves get to him* I don’t think it would matter if you were, under the circumstances, but it is nice to have your consent. *he smiles*
Yes, always the gentleman Richie. Even with me tied up with a bow for you. *leans forward, just slightly, leaving less than an inch between their faces* Metaphorically, of course.
*he grins somewhat flightily* Well, that would certainly be a reversal of roles indeed *he lets out a sudden nervous laugh and covers his mouth, embarrassed*
*his smirk widens* Yes, well, I believe you said you would take advantage, Mister Brook.
I suppose I did, didn’t I? *he positively giggles* I am a man who is true to his word, if nothing else… *he looks over Damien, slowly, from head to toe*
*he raises an eyebrow, slightly teasing* Having second thoughts?
darkly-stark started following you
*he gapes, a small half-smile spreading across his face* Mi-Mister Stark. Um, hello. Again. Um, sorry, I’ve met another version of you.
Tony rose an eyebrow, amused. “Hello…It seems you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, and I don’t know yours.”
“Richard, sir,” he said eagerly, holding out a hand. “Richard Brook. Um, sorry, I’m a bit of a-a fan. sorry.”
He took it, chuckling. “Its fine, really. Its a pleasure to meet you, Richard.” He smirked.
Had he been a lesser man or perhaps been a bit more tired Damien would have swooned right then and there. “No, honestly, the pleasure is all mine, sir.”
He grinned, and looked around. “This is a pretty nice place you got here….”
"Oh, um, thanks. It's, um, well I-I think temporary." He shrugged helplessly, glancing around the small flat.
Coming Home
Richard shrugged hopelessly, almost laughing for how lost and drowned he felt.
“What he tells me,” he repeated, his voice hitching in his throat once and a half before he was done. “Wh-whatever it is. Sometimes it’s just be seen somewhere wearing his clothes, sometimes it’s, I dunno, bury this suitcase somewhere no one will find it, or make sure this woman doesn’t go near home for a certain period of time, or… I don’t know, I don’t…”
He paused, lurching forward and letting his head fall into his hands, palms pressing desperately at his forehead.
“I don’t even know everything he does, I just do what he tells me,” he repeated miserably.
“Oh Richie…” He took another long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly before stubbing it out on the coffee table, honestly too tired to consider what he was doing.
The moment dragged on, long and uncomfortable. Finally Damien stood up, walking over and sitting down on the arm of Richie’s chair before pulling the younger man into an uneven hug. Curled up as he was Richie, in fact, ended up more half curled on his husband’s lap but Damien didn’t mind. All that mattered was helping Richie, making him feel better.
“We can report him,” he said quietly, smoothing a hand through short, dark locks in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “I could send an anonymous tip or-or something. We can work this out, put an end to this.”
Richard stiffened immediately, leaning away from Damien to look him in the eye, suddenly and acutely concentrating on his husband.
“No,” he said, his voice steady once more, though he still felt the burning remnants of tears that had never come in his eyes. “No, we can’t. You can ‘t. He’s my brother, Damien, I can’t.”
His heartbeat, which had slowed down considerably when Damien had come to him, was now frantic. He knew it had been a bad decision to tell him, but he hadn’t thought that… He had thought he was putting Damien in danger, but perhaps he had wronged both of them. Both of the only people he really cared about, put in danger because of him. He whimpered helplessly, holding his head with one hand, wishing the world could simply turn back an hour.
Damien's face fell, a look of pure hopelessness settling on once forced calm features. He just didn't understand. Why wouldn't Richie-?
Because it was Jim. It was as simple as that. It was his brother, the only family he seemed to have left. One of the few people he cared about. If someone had een threatening to report Richie he would have shot them down in an instant, begged and pleaded. He couldn't imagine it happening to someone you'd known all your life, as bad as the situation seemed.
Slowly, hesitantly, he places a hand on his husband's shoulder. "Okay then, we won't. But we need to work something out, all right?" He bit his lip, glancing down for a moment. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."
darkly-stark started following you
*he gapes, a small half-smile spreading across his face* Mi-Mister Stark. Um, hello. Again. Um, sorry, I’ve met another version of you.
Tony rose an eyebrow, amused. “Hello…It seems you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, and I don’t know yours.”
“Richard, sir,” he said eagerly, holding out a hand. “Richard Brook. Um, sorry, I’m a bit of a-a fan. sorry.”
He took it, chuckling. “Its fine, really. Its a pleasure to meet you, Richard.” He smirked.
Had he been a lesser man or perhaps been a bit more tired Damien would have swooned right then and there. "No, honestly, the pleasure is all mine, sir."
*he takes the collar of Damien’s shirt in one hand and pulls him in slightly, trying not to let his nerves get to him* I don’t think it would matter if you were, under the circumstances, but it is nice to have your consent. *he smiles*
Yes, always the gentleman Richie. Even with me tied up with a bow for you. *leans forward, just slightly, leaving less than an inch between their faces* Metaphorically, of course.
*he grins somewhat flightily* Well, that would certainly be a reversal of roles indeed *he lets out a sudden nervous laugh and covers his mouth, embarrassed*
*his smirk widens* Yes, well, I believe you said you would take advantage, Mister Brook.
Coming Home
Richard shrugged hopelessly, almost laughing for how lost and drowned he felt.
“What he tells me,” he repeated, his voice hitching in his throat once and a half before he was done. “Wh-whatever it is. Sometimes it’s just be seen somewhere wearing his clothes, sometimes it’s, I dunno, bury this suitcase somewhere no one will find it, or make sure this woman doesn’t go near home for a certain period of time, or… I don’t know, I don’t…”
He paused, lurching forward and letting his head fall into his hands, palms pressing desperately at his forehead.
“I don’t even know everything he does, I just do what he tells me,” he repeated miserably.
"Oh Richie..." He took another long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly before stubbing it out on the coffee table, honestly too tired to consider what he was doing.
The moment dragged on, long and uncomfortable. Finally Damien stood up, walking over and sitting down on the arm of Richie's chair before pulling the younger man into an uneven hug. Curled up as he was Richie, in fact, ended up more half curled on his husband's lap but Damien didn't mind. All that mattered was helping Richie, making him feel better.
"We can report him," he said quietly, smoothing a hand through short, dark locks in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I could send an anonymous tip or-or something. We can work this out, put an end to this."
scriptsopendoors started following you
Bonjour, monsieur. Can I do something for you?
Ah, no, sorry. *shrugs* Though I suppose it would be polite to ask the same, yes?
