we're not kids anymore.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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AnasAbdin

Origami Around

#extradirty
šŖ¼
noise dept.
KIROKAZE
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Cosmic Funnies

oozey mess
DEAR READER

if i look back, i am lost
Keni

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
trying on a metaphor
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@tra-le-stelle
Julian & Marco:
tra-le-stelle:
price-julian:
[His hand, extended as it was, had his attention, it warranted a pause and a moments worth of curious contemplation. Hand holding was something he categorised somewhat specifically and for a brief, but serious second, he genuinely considered taking it. But he didnt, stood, poised as always and excused himself from the table by tucking his chair back where it had been. The wine theyād bought, only three quarters drunk, sat sadly on a table that was cluttered with unused crockery. His need to eat was no longer something he was consciously thinking about, he was thinking about eating something, but he wasnāt sure what he had in mind could be categorised in the same way as satisfying hunger could.
He let his fingers, bare, apart from one single ring that sat on his index finger, tickled at the other mans; an acknowledgementĀ of sorts, but they didnāt twine round his, instead he let his hand drop into the pocket of his trousers and he nodded forward. A silent follow me. His cleaner must have been in this morning for the apartment was spotless; a large rectangular glass vase, full with wide sprouted lillies, sat on the dresser next to his front door. Tossed were his keys and a thin elegant wallet, stripped was his jacket which he lazily draped over the dresser next to the vase.]Ā Coat? Let me take itā¦[and that he did, ensuring he stroked out one of the accidental creases in its breast before hanging it on a coat stand.] Come through [he said with a smile that was as welcoming as it could be]Ā Right, I should, should he says, have an absolutely fantastic bottle of chateu mourgaux somewhere [heād walked into his living room now, evidence he actually lived there shown in a small doses, in the pair of glasses resting on the couch arm, a half smoked packet of cigarettes on the coffee table. Heād already loosened his tie, wiggling the knot down until he was able to remove it entirely and much like his other belongings, left by the door, tossed it without care onto the back of the couch. In the corner was a cabinet, full with bottles of spirits and liquors that heād collected over the years and he retrieved a bottle]Ā ahaā¦she does still exist. Sitā¦sit. Let me grab some glasses [ and glasses he fetched, wide bottomed with thin barely there stems which he set down on the table and quickly filled to their middle with the wine.]
If youād like something else just say, itās not like my collection isnāt extensive. Must have been a mixologist in a past lifeā¦cheers [he finished as he collapsed into the couch, undeniably close to the other, intentionally so, that ensured their thighs werenāt grazing but were in fact touching. He handed him the glass, sipped from his own and exhaled softly[]Ā she is good, sheās very goodā¦I have no issues with their menu down there but [he pulled a face, sipped again and leant back, extending one arm over the back of the couch, lounging it across behind the others head, body now angled toward him]Ā so what were we talking about? Sistersā¦no Italyā¦no I remember, your apparent shock to the fact that I, mister Price hardsss extraordinaire, could have ever been in a relationship. But to answer you, yes, yes I was. And if to answer your surprise, thatās why Iām not and havenāt been for a considerable amount of time. Far too messy. Iām quite content keeping my options open. [He smiled, realised heād said a lot in a short space of time so happily stayed silent for a moment, let his free hand wander without apparent intention and rest on the others knee, which he gently kneaded as casually as an action such as could be.] But you, youāre quite intriguing. Young and exceptionally good looking, at a place like this? I thought this sort of thing was reserved for forty somethings with too much money and not enough time. Like myself. Why you? Whatās wrong with you? [he smirked softly.]
Marco was unsure if he did something wrong or if Julianās refusal of his hand is just who he was. He could allow himself to dwell on it, to think it over until his pleasant buzz has worn off but he doesnāt. He realizes that everyone hides secrets, even him. Maybe Julian will indulge him, maybe not. For now, he will go along. Rolling his lips together, he nods imperceptibly and then reaches for his wallet. The least he can do is leave a decent tip for the waiter and the busser for taking up valuable table space and not staying for dinner.
Ā The walk back to Julianās didnāt long and it gave Marco the chance to think and sober up a little. The air outside was crisp and refreshing and it ruffled his dark hair. Nights like this made all his earlier worries melt away. Overhead the sky was clear and free of clouds and Marco could see the stars for the first time in a long time. He wondered if Julian liked to star gaze or if he would humor him and maybe sit on the beach listening to the sound of the waves with him. If Marco were more adventurous, heād even think to go a bit further than just star gazing.
Julianās apartment was much more lavish than his own and he slid his light coat off his shoulders before handing it to the other man and toeing off his shoes at the door. His brow rose as Julian mentions the bottle of wine and having sobered up, felt he could use another round, or two, of drinks. Sinking down onto the couch, Marco tucked a leg under himself and gave his attention to his gorgeous date for the evening.
āI think I much prefer this setting, however,ā Marco canāt help but smile to himself as he sips his drink, āitās much more, intimate.ā He tries to remember where their conversation left off and he nods a little.Ā āYes, we were talking about you being in a,ā he feigns a gasp, ārelationship.ā Marco likes how close Julian is and itās evident as he turns a little more, intentionally touching his thigh with the back of his hand.
Marco shrugs a little at Julianās comment about relationships being messy. He knows to the contrary that they can be fulfilling and wonderful. Of course you have to find that right person. Biting back a grin at Julianās compliment, Marco takes another sip of his wine to wet his lips before thinking how best to answer his question. āWell, itās not just forty somethings with too much money, you know,ā he reaches up, placing a hand gently on the other manās arm and giving it a light squeeze before letting go. Sometimes Marco tends to get touchy when heās had a few drinks and hopefully Julian wonāt mind much. āI needed an escape from dancing, from when I get too caught up in my head...and the only thing that can help me come back is time with a beautiful stranger... Maybe thatās whatās wrong with me? As solitary as I might seem, I enjoy the company of others, even for one night.ā He finishes off the last of his wine, watching Julian as he does so. āDoes that sate your curiosity, Dear Julian?ā He resists the urge to stroke his fingertips across the manās jaw.
iām in a long distance relationship with the stars
Julian & Marco:
tra-le-stelle:
price-julian:
[Julian offered a knowing snort, nodded in admission, from behind his tilted wine glass] Oh well sibling rivalry was rife in my household. [He picked up the bottle of wine from its neck, lentĀ forward just enough that he could meet the rim of the otherās glass and with a flick of his wrist began to top the glass up, way past the middle belt of glass, closer to the rim before he stopped and put the bottle back down] So your sisters a dancer too then hm? Does she do it professionally too? [He topped up his own glass upon finishing the sentence, once more settling back into his seat, parting his legs just that little bit more beneath the table] My sistersā¦my younger sister, Iād say were fairly close yes. She lives in Dubai with her husband, so we donāt see each other all that often but sheās a journalist, very smart, enviably so, I try and see her a couple of times a year. My older sister though, half sister, we have different mothers [a pause] Iām sure sheād tell you differently, but I canāt stand the bitch. An overweight, idiotic, nightmare of a woman..And her grotesque bank broker husband, third husband, is arguably just as bad. [He sips his wine once again, smirks] maybe thatās the wine talking.Ā
[Julianās brow arches, its rather harsh actually, without that being his intention] Well sweetheart, that really depends on what you want to consider a commitment. Iāve made my company millions. So Iām committed to them. I have two dogs. Iām committed to them. I go to the gym five times a week. Iām committed to that. [He offers a small, half playful smirk] Any wayā¦doesnāt matter does it? [He chuckles ever so softly, lets his glass rest in the give of his parted fingers. But suddenly chooses to lean forward so the space between them isnāt that obvious any more] Best meal? Hmmmā¦probably in Sicily actually. Dated a native. Caught me a fish. Made it for me on his boat. But enough about foodā¦I donāt actually think Iām all that hungry any more and I know I have better wine and a better view from my apartment. Fancy fucking this off, coming back to mine?Ā
Yes, my sister is a professional dancer as well but she is still in Italy. Probably a good thing one of us chose to stay close to home or our mother would have had a heart attack. Besides, sheās always been the favorite. [Heās embarrassed to admit this but the drinks have made the confession easier. Marco canāt help but chuckle a little as Julian describes his other sister.] Seems fitting that you wouldnāt care for her much. [Again he laughs a little, mostly due to the alcohol.] Just the drinks or pent up resentment? [He leans forward, one dark brow arching slightly, almost egging the man on to confess more. He almost wants to push Julian a little more, maybe ask him if heās ever been in a committed relationship but they arenāt on that level...yet.] Well, I suppose those things do count as a commitment then and it matters if those things are important to you. [Marcoās eyes move slowly over Julianās face, chewing his lip slightly.] You dated someone? [For some reason this eclipsed the bit about going fishing and cooking it for dinner. Marco almost chokes on his drink as Julian asks him back to his place. Heās not really that hungry, come to think of it. He looks around, taking in how dead the restaurant is and suddenly heād rather be anywhere else.] I think that sounds like a wonderful plan. [A sly grin spreads across his face as he slides out of the booth and extends a hand out to Julian.] Well, show me this spectacular view from your place.
Julian & Marco:
price-julian:
Weāll have to seeā¦[Julian smirked, let the silence at the end of his sentence hang there for a moment or two before he bought the glass to his mouth again, sipped. But he knew, right then, that there was no deliberation needed if what they were both deliberately not saying, was to happen at the end of the meal.Ā
He nodded though, once, almost sternly as he once again brought the glass back down to the table and carefully folded his arms over his chest] I doā¦I do, Iād like to go a bit deeper than Italian dancer if thatās okay with you.Ā
[ And he was glad that the other started to speak. Perhaps it was the alcohol that was freely being consumed by the both of them, but he was speaking freely, openly, offering a side to himself to Julian with a type of confidence that Julian couldnāt help but smile at.] Yeah? Iāve got two sisters actuallyā¦well, one of them is my half sister. Great arenāt they? Sisters.. Oh but Jesus [he said with a soft snort, a playful sound] you worked in Leeds? You poor, poor soul. [He smirked, a joke, a part of England heād always sigh at the thought of commuting to.Ā
By now, three glasses of wine, almost four having been sipped and savoured a little too quickly on an empty stomach, had started to do their job in blurring the conventions that existed before into something that was far, far simpler. He sat forward, easy open, resting on one bent elbow] Twenty questions? Goodness, that sounds like a commitment. But fine, go on then, kick us off. [He smiled, moved his leg forward, let his knee, ever so, ever so slightly brush past the otherās]Ā
[Marco has always loved his sister as much as a younger brother could. At first there was no competition between them because Sofia hadnāt counted on Marco taking the art seriously. She assumed it was all a passing interest and that by the following week, month, her brother would move onto something else. When he became more serious and their parents showed him more attention, the sibling rivalry became something of an issue. Only when Sofia moved out, became her own person, did the two mend their relationship. Of course, it took a handful of years for this to happen.]
Sisters...they can be fun, yes, when they arenāt trying to push you down the stairs or trying to sabotaging your chances at an audition. [He smiles to himself.] Itās not nearly as awful as it sounds, anymore. Were you, are you close to your sisters at all?Ā [Marco looks up at Julian as he gives his sympathy and laughs to himself. Maybe he knows something about the city that heās yet to learn?] What is so wrong with Leeds? Please indulge me. [Leaning against the table, heās aware of the brush of Julianās knee against his and he can almost feel his body heat between those thin layers of fabric and Marcoās body warms. This time itās not just his face that flushes and he shifts a little in his seat.] I take it youāre not one for commitments? [Marco teases, lifting the glass of cool water to his lips, taking a slow draw. He lets the wetness of the water linger on his lips before his tongue slips out to lick them and he thinks of a question. Something easy at first, unassuming.] What was the best meal youāve ever had?
Julian & Marco:
price-julian:
[He couldnāt quite tell, given it was early days, whether the others loose, flirty demeanour was something of a habit or something that the alcohol heād already consumed was willing him to behave in this way. And as the otherās hand came forward and curled over his own he flicked his eyes down, stared at the contact for a moment or two before using the others removal as an excuse to pick up his own hand and pick up his wine glass] Looks to me if youād already started on the vino my love [His face stayed semi serious as he bought the glass up, took a large mouthful before setting it back down again. Thatās when his face softened, turned into a small but sincere smirk. He decided he liked this, whether it was the alcohol in the other or not. It was sweet.] I guessā¦I guess Iāve got some serious catching up to do hm?Ā
[As Marco spoke he sat back in his own chair, mimicked the otherās posture in all its fluidity; took his glass again between two fingers, bought it up to his lips and sipped as he listened.] mmm no, no I canāt think of an occupation that would be harder. Physically I mean. Maybe I should get you an espresso martini instead of wine? I wouldnāt want you falling asleep on me. The night is far too young. [Julian smiled, had to fight back a smirk that may have seemed patronising at the otherās eagerness to please. It was, after all, ever so endearing] Well, hereās hoping. I was actually hoping youād have a few ideas of your own on that front, but if not, Iām sure the wine will do its job just fine.Ā
[He could flirt with the best of them. Julian swallowed another mouthful] But Marco, Marcoā¦tell me a bit about yourself. So far, I know youāre a dancer and a good one at that, I know youāre Italian and I know youāve got a fabulous taste in shirts. But I want more. So much more. Pleaseā¦divulge.Ā
[Marco takes a breath to steady the beating of his heart. The last thing he wants is to push Julian away by getting out of hand so he opts to sip at the glass of water that sits untouched at the end of the table.] Oh, I wouldnāt dare to fall asleep on you, you have my full attention. Maybe I should slow down? [His eyes fall to the place ware before him and though he made the small gesture of touching Julianās hand, he wonders if maybe that was crossing the line. Marco smiles to himself, clearing his throat and then glances back up across the way to Julian.]
Well, maybe we can start with appetizers and then after than, dinner? Then...from there...we will have to see. [Again, he smiles wide and he feels the blood rushing to his face. Lifting a hand, he presses his palm to his cheek and heās so glad that itās a bit dark in the restaurant.] You want to know more about me? [Marco is always surprised to hear this. Heās always felt he was too complicated to know. That it was pointless telling someone about his past when they werenāt destined to stay.] Iām from Italy, yes, and Iām a dancer [he laughs]
Hm, letās see...I have an older sister, Sofia, who is a dancer as well. Actually, it was her who got me interested in it, sort of. When I was very little our mother would force me to go watch her practice. At first it was boring but then I became enamored with the art so my mother enrolled me in classes at La Scala Ballet School. For a while it was amazing- I loved it. I met so many wonderful people and performed in many different productions when I was offered a position at Northern Ballet in Leeds... [Marcoās voice goes quiet. He hesitates to ever tell anyone about his love life so itās heavily guarded and kept under lock and key.] Perhaps a round of twenty questions would prove to be more fun? [He cocks a brow, tempting his date to have a little bit of fun but also to change the subject.]
Julian & Marco:
price-julian:
[He lowered himself into his seat opposite the other with a warm, gentle smile that just about smoothed out those lingering lines of todays stress from the corners of a mouth that had been pursed too tightly for too long today. And he glanced to the side, took in what Marco had insisted he take into consideration. He nods, never quite having agreed with so many others when it came to British Coast line, but the other was right, the moon tonight was playing just so against the soft, for once tame, tide of southamptonās coast] I meanā¦its not quite the Amalfi is it? But itāll doā¦for now. [He grinned now, motioning over a server with a quick almost absent wave] but here I am, telling you about a beautiful coast in your own home country. Yes, apparently even Iām that arrogant. [Julian half chuckled, cutting the sound short so he could ask the sever for something to drink] Right, can we pleeeease get a bottle of yourĀ Montrachet, two glasses, and another one of whatever my company had before this. Thank you.Ā
[He turned back to Marco, pushing back his hair with slightly parted fingers] Trust me, Iām not just being an overbearing ass hole ordering your drinks for you, that wine is truly gorgeous. Not unlike yourself tonight. [He let one hand splay out across the pressed table cloth, running the pad of his thumb along the handle of a fork that had been placed atop a cloth napkin] you Italianās really do know how to dress up a nice shirt donāt you?Ā
[He pressed back against his chair, tapping his thumb without any sound against the fork] I really am sorry I was late, Iām sure the people I work with must study my diary and deliberately pick my busiest days to host the longest of meetings. How was your day though? Get up to anything exciting?
[The few drinks that heās had have his head feeling light and he canāt help the smirk that stays present on his face. He doesnāt mind that heās talking about Italy as though heās from there. Quite the opposite. Though Marco doesnāt see himself ever going back home, he still enjoys hearing what others who are not native like about Italy. Maybe someday he will find some who will lure him back. Maybe.]
Youāre fine, I donāt think youāre being arrogant at all. [Of course if heād been talking to anyone else, Marco might have felt different. This man across from him now, was anything but offensive. It was hard for him to pry his eyes away from Julianās face thinking how much more clothing he has on compared to the other day.
Damn the alcohol.
He leans forward against the table, crossing one leg over the other. His posture is loose, playful even. Tonight Marco wants to be seen if only by the beautiful man across from him. He gives a casual lift of his brow when Julian comments on his shirt and he shakes his head.] This old thing? [He reaches up, sliding the palm of his hand over the collar of his shirt and then down his chest.] You look very dashing yourself, though I wasnāt too sure how dressed up I should get for tonight. I must admit that I feel a little under dressed. [A small pout forms on his lips when Julian apologizes for being late and he shakes his head.] No, no, donāt worry about it at all. [Absently, he reaches out and places a hand gently atop Julianās, squeezing it reassuringly before retreating.] My day? [He clears his throat.] My day was, exhausting. [He laughs to himself.] Some might think being a dancer isnāt that difficult of an occupation, but try telling that to my feet and body. [Again, he laughs.]
Well, youāre here now. Hopefully you can find something to get your mind off of work? [Yes, heās full on flirting now but he canāt help it. Itās been quite a while since heās been on a genuine date.]
the-lesser-half:
[Heās not looking for company, and he would think his sour mood would deter people, but theĀ āfunā thing about being at the fucking Seven, is everyone feels like itās their job to cheer you up. Most people might consider this a nice, welcome thing. But Noah isnāt most people.Ā
Still, the guy is⦠on the side of non-invasive, at least. Heās not overly cheery, or pushy, as he casually slips in beside him, and makes straightforward attempt at conversation.Ā
Noah glances at him brieflyāhe looks familiarāhandsome, definitelyābut he makes no judgements beyond that.]Ā
You could say that, [he mutters, somewhat reluctant.] Most of them are, though.Ā
[Marco is in a particular mood this morning. Not necessarily a bad one but not really a confrontational one either. He can feel the eyes of the other on him as he sits down, probably wondering what the hell heās doing. To be honest, he really doesnāt know.] Wow, that sounds terrible. [His tone is flat.] Did the server have anything to do with your bad night? [Heās probably going to regret engaging the guy but for now, he presses on.]
rivers-run-wild:
Well, what else do you have here other than free time? [He grins, then adds a shrug.]Ā I mean, that and lots os pretty distractions, [he teases.] Which Iāll admit, is even a problem for the blokes and I when weāre trying to get practice in.Ā
But yeah, you definitely should. Itās a fun night. We play on Fridays, at the Needy. Just cover stuff, stuff people can dance to, yāknow. But actually, Iām talking to Lady lately, trying to see if I can get a gig playing my acoustic stuff. I donāt know.. maybe at the Jellyfish, or something, but.. I donāt know if thatās the right scene for it or not. Iāll have to talk to her.Ā
[With a gentle smile ever present, Marco listens to River. He likes how easy it is to talk to him. Heās much different than even Marco himself.] I have no doubt that Lady would say yes to letting you play other places. I mean, I would if I were her. Well, if i were in charge of things. [Marco canāt help but blush as he stumbles over his own tongue.] Yes, Jellyfish, itās a nice place. Iāve been there once or twice. I can see you on stage surrounded by a crowd of people. [He dares to give River a friendly wink] Iām sure if you do get play there will be some advertisement?
Julian & Marco:
price-julian:
[Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. The meeting had overun like the bitch heād always known it was going to be and heād found himself cursing and offending through the latter half of the congregation just to shut the idiots around the table up. But it had ended, thirty three and a half minutes later than heād scheduled it to, but it had and thankfully, albeit out of character for central London, heād managed to pull into Zenithās parking area just twenty minutes late for the dinner heād arranged.Ā
Sure, that twenty minutes had promptly gone south and turned into forty five by the time heād changed into another, but more dinner appropriate, suit; made from a soft navy wool blend, two button fastening, a classic double vented reverse. Nice, fucking lovely actually. And with a quick reapplication of his aftershave and a rather shameless swill of mouthwash he was out the door. Thankfully in his mad dash to look presentable heād thought to send the other a quick, half apologetic text:Ā
āReally sorry, ended up getting held up at work. Will be with you by ten. Have a drink on me. Be there soon, J.āĀ
The walk wasnāt long of course, so his gracious entrance into what was a rather busy night for the glut, happened at some time just before ten. Hopefully ballet dancers didnāt have to adhere to some stupid no eating after six rule because he was fucking starving and there was a sea bream fillet with his name on it. So he scanned the room, clucked his tongue softly, said something forgettable to the matredee as he spotted the other and promptlyĀ made his way over to that pretty little thing sat with his back to him at one of the farther, more private tables.Ā
He let his hand drop to the others shoulder as he swiftly side stepped to his seat. Smile fucking brightly Julian, you owe this poor boy] Hello you, god I am so, so sorry Iām late. Absolute liability. Let me get a bottle, say sorry properly. [he grinned]
[He was nervous but he had enough gall to finally admit it to himself and in doing so his nerves calmed a little. Of course that only helped while he was dancing. Heād been able to pour all his concentration into his steps and pirouettes and on getting his lifts just right. His instructor praised him greatly at the end of the day.
The ride back to The Seven was a different story. It was only 8:30 pm by the time he arrived back and Quay. Time was not going to be quick for him.
While he got himself ready, Marco couldnāt help but think of Luis and what he might be doing at that moment. Maybe he was out on a date as well. Marco pictured Luis, sitting across the table in some cafe. He was dressed handsomely, that secretive smile of his ever present. Marco imagined him sharing stories with some man heād met at a bookstore. Itās too easy for him to get wrapped up in his thoughts and imagery of his former lover.
The walk to the restaurant takes about twenty minutes but Marco arrives much sooner than he had intended but his early arrival meant that he was able to get a decent table in a secluded corner.
His phone goes off with a text notification and he sees itās Julian. A tiny part of him wonders if itās a text to cancel plans but, thankfully, itās not. Marco shoots back a text maybe a little too quickly:
āNo worries at all! :)ā He does feel a little juvenile including the smiley face but maybe Julian wonāt comment.
...
The touch of a hand on his shoulder does cause him to jump ever so slightly but with the couple of drinks already in his system, it brings a soft chuckle to his lips. Julian appears in the darkness of the restaurant and the only thing Marco can think is: āwas he this gorgeous when they first met?ā]
No, donāt be sorry, really. I wasnāt waiting all that long and the view has been nothing short of stunning. [He motions to the waves and the beach all lit up under a bright white moon.]
price-julian:
[He chuckles, the sound is low and deep and he looks down and back up again in one quick gesture before he lets the sound settle into something else] As much as that offer is, well, one heck of an offer I really do think your behind would look better in them than mine.Ā
[There are times when Julian was so good at maintaining his work life balance that anything, even something as harmless as flirting, is automatically categorised so specifically by him, that he misses out on moments like this. Julian didnāt date. He paid for company, partly due to habits, partly due to the fact that by paying, by scheduling, he was able to fit sex and some semblance of a relationship into his day to day life.Ā
So asking someone to dinner, asking someone who had no connection to his work life, who just happened to have a sweet smile and seemed to be able to hold a decent conversation, wasnāt something heād done in a long time.Ā
Julian smiled softly at the other now, nodded] Greatā¦thatās great. [He slipped his hand into a tight pocket on his hip, with effort some effort given how tight they were, and pulled his phone from where it had been. He flicked to a calendar, now more than used to the patch work of colour that came from his personal schedule; almost every god damn minute of his next two weeks littered with wall to wall commitments. He clucked his tongue, bingo] Thursday? How about Thursday? Would nine be too late? Someone inconsiderately booked a meeting in for me at six, so will give me time to get back here. Freshen up a bit.Ā
[When exactly was the last time heād been asked on a date? Or well, dinner. This is a date, right? Marco suddenly feels oddly out of place. Itās even been a while since heās asked anyone on a date but itās still a nice feeling. Knowing that someone desires his company, wants to spend time with him.
By now, his smile has totally gotten out of hand and heās sure his face has gone pink but he doesnāt care. This beautiful man is asking for his time. He patiently waits while Julian checks his phone, knowing that he, himself, has plenty of free time outside of work.] Nine PM this Thursday? [He doesnāt even think to check his phone and pretend that he has a social life so heās quick to reply.] Yes, that works just fine! [Heās like an puppy eager to please.]
Lose Control
firstnamekoby:
{ Nights like these he needs to forget. Erase the thoughts of a past and family. A sister heās disappointed time and again. Enemies that not only look for him but search for her. Avoidance has always been a way he deals with things and tonight, life at the seven is no different.Ā
How easy it is to indulge. To play the pretty face with a hard body and hard ons that he offers to the highest bidder. He can forget when his mind is empty, idle hands busy, and tongue dripping with the sweetest nothings and lies to get just what he wants.
This nigh is no different. The music pulses through him and his body moves to the music pumping through the speakers and heās forgetting. His mind is on other goals. More physical, financial, and lustful goals. Nearly drunk and existing purely for pleasureās purpose, Jacob slips deeper into the trance created by sensations around him. Hands on his chest, hips, and ass. The laughter of the women and men moving closer to him. The cool burn of another shot in his mouth.Ā
He likes Limelight. Itās always a start at forgetting. The music stops and the floor clears. Jacob follows the crowd to the bar. A few more shoots and his mind will be a vast pool of nothing. No regrets. No thoughts. Just a blank canvas he can spend the night filling.
His mouth is poised to order when he decides to play nice guy. Another role he enjoys trying on from time to time.}Ā
Two shots for me. { His fingers point awkwardly at his own chest and heās in the midst of offering to buy drinks for the people sitting the closest to him at the bar. When one of the girls from the floor tumbles towards him. Sheās drunk and clumsy and in a matter of seconds, everything on the bar is on him and anyone else in a three foot radius. } And whatever the ballerina just spilled all over us.Ā
[The music is sometimes too loud and the bass thumps his chest too hard but he ignores it. All around him people are drunk, dancing, fondling one another. The show of flesh is something heās used to but never quiet gotten numb to it. Marco does like what he see. Beautiful people, some with something to offer, some with nothing. Some looking for a warm body to occupy empty space in their beds.
Leaning across the bar, he asks for a soda and ignores the look from the bartender. Drinking tonight means a hard time getting up in the morning and morning means rehearsals. Heād never hear the end of it if he showed up late or hung over to work tomorrow. None of the club patrons pay Marco much mind as he sips his drink, turning toward the crowd to watch them all with judgement. Yes, Marco is judging them because heās in one of those moods. He hates it but he deals by riding them out until they fade a little bit.
Thereās commotion a few feet away. A circle of people forms around one of the club goers as her drink goes careening over those nearest to her. Luckily Marco isnāt one of the victims and feels only a little bit guilty about those who are.] Too bad for the one who has to clean that mess up... Thankfully ballerinas are a little more graceful than that.
the-lesser-half:
[Heās parched and has a headache that could take down a rhino. Ultimately, what he needed was water last night, before passing out with nothing but liquor an cigarettes in his gut, but water this morning if going to have to do.Ā
Heād been out of fucking coffee when heād woken up, which is the most not-okay thing ever, so heād been forced to leave his apartment to stumble, hung over and groggy, to the cafe on the roof terrace of Zenith. With access from the outside, itās accessible to everybody.
He orders a triple espresso andĀ āthe biggest bowl of drip coffee they can bring himā, with plenty of cream and no sugar, and a jug of water and a glass. The server, too cute andĀ ākindā for her own good, smiles at him and her high pony tail slips across her shoulders as she tilts her head.Ā āAnd will that be lemon, cucumber or melon, today?āĀ
Noah blinks at her, confused, brows heavy over his eyes. FuckĀ his head hurts.] What? [He asks. And she repeats:Ā āOh, we have lemon water, cucumber water or watermelon water for you sir. And then of course we can just give you standard iced, but I highly recommend the fruit infused options, theyāre deliāā. Wincing, Noah holds up a hand, waving it to try to shut her up. Her voice is shrill and unkind to his pounding head. He pinches the bridge of his nose.] I donāt fucking know, Barbie, just bring me anything wet, I beg you.Ā
[Heās drinking a mimosa and eating a plate of berry crepes and enjoying the morning breeze that comes up off the water. The sun is out and itās a beautiful day. It doesnāt seem that much can dampen his mood. That is, until the server comes back, pouring a drink and mumbling under her breath about a rude customer. Marco glances up, seeing the culprit a few seats down the bar and he canāt help when the corners of his mouth turn down.
He looks vaguely familiar but canāt recall a name. Never one to be rude to someoneĀ ājust becauseā, Marco pulls out his wallet and leaves more than enough to cover his bill and leave the server a gracious tip. Maybe the rest of her day will go a little smoother. He hears her thanks as he picks up his glass and moves a few stools closer.]
Bad night? [His voice is casual when he asks, tipping back his drink and emptying the glass but he doesnāt look at the other man. Marco isnāt trying to intimidate and he couldnāt be even if he tried but sometimes he wants to know what other people are thinking, how they work.]
Everything I want Everything I need I found in you No matter what they say I'm gonna find a way To be with you Take me to your place of sweet love Do you realize what you do to me?
price-julian:
[He offers him a polite smile] Well interesting might be a stretch, but sure, thereās enough going on to have kept my interest for the past fifteen years at least. And thereās a fair bit of travelling involved, so that helps keep things fresh. [the smile at some pointĀ in the sentence transforms into something more reminiscent of a smirk, twisted, teasing, much like the others] but thank you for pretending, I know full well my line of work sounds about as exciting to you as does the prospect of watching paint dry. Not all of us can prance about in tights and make a living. Some of us have two left feet alright? [itās all said in jest, his tone much lighter than it has been for some time in fact.
Julian watches him, head tipped just enough that his hair, now pulled from any semblance of a style thanks to the combined effort of running and the light breeze; a light wind that had only just started to set against the thin skin of sweat atop his forehead. He was however almost certain the other was used to compliments. It no doubt went hand in hand with his work. But it didnāt deter Julian from nodding slightly in silence acknowledgement of his thanks.Ā
Then he smirked again, laughed softly] Really? Wellā¦I mean Iād be an absolute fool to say no to that wouldnāt I? But if I do take you up on that offer, Iāll have to pay you back somehow. [he suddenly stands, brushing his backside lightly with the back of his hand to shake away any dirt left behind from the bench] How about dinner? One day this weekā¦my way of saying thank you. Its not everyday a handsome Italian, I assume by your accent Iāve gotten that right, offers you free front row tickets to the theatre. So dinner, what do you say?Ā
Itās not pretending. If a man is prideful of what he does to earn his living and is good at it, then he gets my admiration as well. [So now heās openly flirting. Granted itās subtle but Julian can likely pick up that Marco is honest in his praise.]Ā Iām sure youād look just at home in a pair of tights. Maybe you can borrow mine? [Julian is ridiculously attractive and Marco finds himself having to pry his eyes away from his face to keep from staring at the man...but he can only look away for so long.]
Well I mean, if I can change the mind of one person, then Itās something Iām happy to offer. What can I say? I like to help where I can. [He shrugs, still smiling effortlessly. When Julian stands from the bench, Marco sees that he stands just a few inches shorter than the man and something about this stirs him a bit.] Dinner? [He clears his throat, suddenly finding his mouth has gone dry.] Dinner would be very nice. Pick a night and I will be there.
rivers-run-wild:
La Scala in Milan⦠[Deacon echoes, softly.] Nice. Italy. WowāIād love to go one day. That must have been an incredible experience. So did you move here only recently then? Why England⦠I mean, a place like Italy? Donāt you miss it?Ā
[The compliment makes him smile, and he looks down briefly, shaking his head, a moment of modesty.] Uh, yeah, I make good money. I mean, better than I ever have before, obviously. And I donāt know if Iām in highĀ demand⦠[he scratches the back of his neck, clears his throat]Ā I mean, Iām not a Platinum, or anything. But I also make good money because the band is a, like, secondary gig. So, you know, twice the work, in a way.Ā
I left because I was offered a job at Northern Ballet in Leeds. [He shrugs.] Itās further from my family and itās what I had wanted. My mother still tries to get me to come home but so long as I she stays over there, Iām content. [He steals a glance over at River. Heās not much like Luis. Luis smiled a bit less but when he did, he lit up Marcoās world. River seems more outgoing, asking questions whereas Luis would have forced Marco to ask them. Stark differences...but River seems kind and genuine, traits that Luis also has.
At the mention of his band, Marcoās brow shoots up.] Now see? Thatās something I wish I could do. I always wanted to learn to play an instrument but I never had the free time. Maybe I could come and see you sometime? When do you play again?