[ Naturally, Phainon's words make him think of that time, too. The Cat's room had been far too quiet, the absence of purring bodies far too loud, and he'd pressed his fingers into a bite mark that had faded days ago, scooped up his phone and texted Phainon without any expectation that he'd be permitted to do the things he did to him within the hour. No less, that he'd be able to stay afterwards and let himself bask in each affectionate kiss and little huff of breath across his skin. Phainon had opened up like a flower to him, had clung to him like he was a lifeline, had smiled at him... The Cat is well aware of the fact that his smile is the first thing he thinks about when he thinks back to that night. Closely followed by his whispered thanks, and his quiet cursing.
Phainon had trusted him then, to treat him well even as he shoved him right up against the brink, and the feeling was a gratifying one. Even more so now with the reminder, said so casually over dinner. It makes the Cat want to repeat the steps he'd performed at the ball; forget the meal on the table and climb right into Phainon's lap. Prove to himself it's real. Give Phainon even more reason to believe that he's earned that trust.
But, as he inhales, exhales, lets the prickle of anticipation make a sharp fist of his claws, he wants to do this right. Is it thanks for inviting him over? Thanks for not delving too deep into the content of that stupid post? Thanks for liking him enough to let him hit it more than once, when the pool of people with that privilege is so small? Or is it just his romantic heart enjoying something simmering for once, rather than forcing the heat and making it boil before he gets a chance to want it too badly? ]
Ahhh, I see. Now I get it. Now it makes sense.
[ He says, wagging his finger at Phainon, smile easy and wide, scooping up the last morsel of his meal before sitting back in his chair, wine cradled in his hand, the very rim of the glass poised against his mouth. He looks smug, like he's cracked a particularly difficult puzzle, when really he's just found a tease too delicious to resist. ]
[ Phainon isn't used to letting people that close to him, not in the strange, emotional-physical way that had come from the sex he'd shared with Cat not too long ago. When he had been in the bath with Mydeimos it had felt like a punishment and forgiveness all at once, but being stretched and taken in his own room, surrounded by the other man, had been different to that. It might just be a weakness of his too broken heart, too ready to be gentle with anyone who shows him kindness, sweetness, trust.
He had trusted the Trailblazer in the same way, offering his life and his hopes for them to bear.
It might be that Cat is simply the perfect kind of person to sneak under his skin and steal the breath from him, without him even being conscious of it.
Even now, sitting together and finishing a simple meal, he can feel the buzz of tension between them, the anticipation. There doesn't have to be more, and he doesn't expect every meeting he has with Cat to turn into something sexual, but the knowledge that it could is heady, too. They're comfortable enough with one another that one thing could lead to the next, and Phainon wouldn't be too offended. He would enjoy himself, and they'd get closer to their wishes.
The finger waggle makes him laugh, and he leans back in his chair, cradling his drink.
Putting the pieces together... Mydeimos, Cat King and Zelda? It's not looking that good for him or any protests he might try to offer. ]
Not consciously!
[ The protest is weak, though, as he smiles behind his glass, taking another long drink. ]
Maybe there are just too many royals here that it was bound to happen.
[ He gets a strange sense of accomplishment from making Phainon laugh, as if all these little reactions are prizes to be won and ones he covets, whether it be the unfocused gleam of his eyes or the flush on his cheeks, or these little smiles that make it impossible to imagine he isn't more than content with his current company. And, strangely enough, the Cat is just as content in return. It isn't that he's particularly disliked on the regular, or that he couldn't find someone to spend time with if he really wanted to, he just so happens to have very recently come out of a rather long spell of convincing himself he didn't need anyone else in his life but his cats and his psycho witch on-off situationship. So it's been a while since he was anything even close to content.
The fact that he's found it here, in the kitchen of a shared apartment, on a dinner date for the first time in who knows how many years, with a man he's bitten almost as many times as he's kissed, who looks at him with warmth and unrestrained affection, who he will almost definitely get to kiss (at the very least) before he leaves... is not what he expected to find in this place. But he definitely isn't complaining. He'll only do that later when he realises how his heart aches for it once he's back home.
At the sound of Phainon's protest, his eyes tighten for a moment but then relax almost as quickly. ]
You have a point, actually. Before I came here, I hadn't seen another monarch of any kind for hundreds of years. But it looks like this place is crawling with them.
[ He smirks, taking a good mouthful of his wine and cleaning a stray drop that may or may not have existed in the first place off his scarred lip with his tongue. ]
[ Phainon's eyes follow the movement of the Cat's hand, gazing at his lips once more, before he shakes his head and leans back. It's nice to lounge, to relax, to allow himself a moment of reprieve between everything else. So many things still chase his heels, and he knows they will come back to haunt him eventually, but for now he has carved himself a little hour or two of contentment. Good food and good company eases some of the strain, and he can't ask for more.
Not now, at least, though if Cat keeps looking at him the way he does, the smirk, the teasing, all of it together, he thinks he might fold faster than he would like, and that would be embarrassing in its own right. It's not like Cat isn't aware of how much Phainon would indulge with him, but he doesn't want to make it so obvious it's embarrassing, or boring or worse.
He enjoys his company, not just for his hands or what he can do with the rest of his shape, but because he is good at talking. It can be both.
Humming, he shakes his head. ]
Mydeimos was the only royal I had really met. Even monarchs have wishes!
[ Tilting his head, he smiles again, fond, puppyish. The words come to him easily, and he tries to stop staring, being obvious about it all. ]
Would you prefer I call you that? My king? Your majesty? [ His cheeks are a touch warm. ] It wouldn't offend.
[ Monarchs certainly do have wishes, and the Cat King wonders what others of his kind might have wished for in his stead. Perhaps they'd be as selfish as him. Perhaps they'd go full feline uprising. Perhaps they'd scoff at the idea that a Cat King might need anyone's help to see what they want fulfilled and turn the offer away completely. The lack of any others of his kind is as loud here as it is at home.
He's enjoying the comfort too, settling into his seat and only wishing idly that they were sitting somewhere he could press a thigh or an arm against Phainon's body, in the way cats tend to do when they're content to sit and not be disturbed. The last place they'd been close like that was Phainon's bed, and is suddenly very aware of the path through the apartment to get to it. He feels like suggesting it, however, might suggest the wrong idea. Or the right one.
When Phainon asks him such a sweet question with all the innocence of a puppy tilting its head at the idea of being scooped up for a walk, the Cat finds himself laughing; the sound is warm, helplessly endeared, but the look in his eyes reads hunger. ]
You have no idea how many people I've suggested that title to. Not one has taken me up on it, unless it's as a joke.
[ Your majesty is one thing. He almost likes it when a certain few people use it, less like a taunt but more like a pet name than a title... But my King. My King, my king, my king. He could tell Phainon to repeat that again and again and the Cat knows that he would. Dangerous. Dangerous and tempting. ]
Call me whatever you want when the mood takes you, puppy. It's all the same to me.
[ If he says it out loud, he might even believe it. ]
[ Phainon is well aware his own wish isn't necessarily for himself, and he has yet to learn about any of the wishes of his peers here. It's hard to think about, when he had spent so many cycles, so many lifetimes not being able to conceive of one to begin with; he's not sure what else he would ask for, outside the one thing he desires the most. It seems too private to poke and prod and demand for other people to tell him what their dreams are, especially when he would be so unwilling to share his own.
It doesn't stop him from wondering all the same, curious and thoughtful before he nudges it aside, to focus on the here and now.
The conversation can continue as he tidies up, so he stands, reluctantly untangling their feet, gathering the plates and taking them back to the kitchen to leave in the sink. He grabs the bottle of wine on the way back, moving to lean against the table and smile down at Cat as he does, placing the bottle between them. It's there, if he wants it, but if he has found his limit that is also fine as well. Phainon isn't going to be the type of host that bothers his guests into matching or not matching his own pace.
Instead, he focuses on replying, smile widening. ]
I wouldn't mean it as a joke.
[ But, he suspects Cat knows that.
Gaze set, blue eyes almost smouldering, as if that inner fire is there ready to blaze openly and widely, Phainon tilts his head. ]
I might save it for the more special moments.
[ There's something particularly alluring about the idea of being on his knees, whispering my king as he shows Cat what he is able to do with his mouth. ]
[ The Cat is already well aware of how he likes to watch Phainon move. He has an elegance to him that speaks of his might, his surety in his strength and the power in his limbs, even for something as simple as tidying up a table. He's enticing, despite the mundane action, and makes it all the more interesting for his involvement. If the Cat weren't well aware of how his heart can so easily make him tender over those he's only spent a handful of interactions with, he might blame the wine. But if he were drunk, he'd be sensible enough to take his leave before this gets any worse. He's not, and he won't.
Instead, he reaches for the bottle as he stands, tilting his head in a parroting of Phainon's own movement while also having to tip it up slightly to look at him, wondering what he's thinking about. Wondering if he'd tell him if he asked. ]
I'm looking forward to finding out what you'll deem a special moment.
[ He says, the curve of a mysterious smile twisting his mouth as he nods, turning his head to the rest of the apartment he's wilfully ignored until now. ]
I was wondering if we'd move this to a couch, but then I thought that you and bestie might have replaced all reasonably comfortable furniture with a home gym setup to keep looking the way you do. [ He's putting a huff into his voice, but the root truth of his words is that he's very vividly aware of how good Phainon looks physically, even without focusing on his pretty little face. ] I thought it a little cruel to remind you of what you might be missing out on. My whole apartment is basically one big couch by comparion.
[ Phainon had never really cared about himself when other people were involved, and that’s translated well into this world. Preparing meals, offering his time, his things, his touch and support, it all comes naturally. When his heart is warm now, it’s not from the endless ache of Coreflames burning him from the inside out, no longer able to be contained, but from the knowledge of affection and comfort that comes hand in hand with being with people he finds himself wanting to protect.
He follows after Cat, his eyes soft as he shakes his head. ]
I try to use the gym when it’s quieter, so people are less inclined to comment on what I’m doing. Mydeimos and I spar often, and I like to run in the mornings.
[ Phainon is particularly passionate about the sunrises he gets to see, the way it makes him painfully happy to witness each one. He never thought he’d get a chase to enjoy something as simple as that. A new day, rather than an endless one.
Motioning to the sofa, he sits. He wonders if Cat sit near, or far, or even on top of him. He won’t mind either way.
Slowly, his smile widens. ]
That sounds like you’re inviting me to see your apartment, Cat.
[ He doesn't feel even the slightest lick of surprise that Phainon uses the gym and runs and spars. He finds it horribly attractive, too, obviously. For the same reason he finds most things he's never touched a paw on attractive: his utter fascination with those interacting with them. He probably would have given detective novels a go if Edwin had stuck around any longer. Him and his poor stupid lack of a sense of self unless framed by his desire. ]
Does it? [ He says, amused, circling the other side of the couch and moving to sit at Phainon's side in an almost polite way, before almost immediately backtracking and throwing his legs over his lap as though he owns it. Typical Cat behaviour. ] I can't think what you'd want to see it for. Like I said. Basically one big couch. And there's nowhere near as much room in it as you've got here.
[ Due to the fact it's basically one room and he went on an almost rampage to find as many soft things as he could to pile onto the bed within the first few days of his arrival and... has not done anything with them since. Not having pocket dimensions here is a pain. ]
I guess there is a pretty cute cat in it, though.
[ He shrugs, then his smile goes pointed, as he takes a sip from the mouth of the bottle, before holding it out. So much for his earlier manners. ]
As soon as those legs are on his lap, he’s reaching down to rest his hands on them. His fingers brush idly over the shape of his shin, before one slides down to rest against his ankle. It’s nice, comforting in a way, to stroke his finger there, to touch the other man’s warm skin as they talk, and enjoy the intimacy. It’s not the same as en embrace, or being curled up together, but it remains sweet.
Tilting his head, he listens to the other man speak before he smiles wider. ]
You can’t think of a single reason why I’d want to visit your home?
[ Even if it wasn’t for a sexual reason, Phainon would want to see where his friend lives, spend time with him. This evening has proven how well they can get along, even outside of the bedroom, and he hopes that Cat realises it. He hopes that the man knows he doesn’t just want him for the sultry way he speaks or the taste of his mouth, but for all the other parts, too.
It is painfully, only being one thing in the eyes of others. He knows.
Taking the bottle, he laughs a little, squeezing Cat’s ankle as he lets himself take his own drink, an indirect kiss of sorts. ]
I hope you’ll let me visit, one day. To see Vyvyan, right?
[ He'd been teasing, mostly. He'd been acting playful and in the back of his mind thinking that Phainon might very well just be being polite, continuing the conversation the way normal people do, the way friendships are supposed to ebb and flow between two people finding they get on well aside from giving each other mind-shattering orgasms. But he'd also been considering potentially having a little tidy-up just in case he was being serious.
It isn't until Phainon asks, with that maddeningly attractive curious dog-like head tilt, that the Cat feels the reality of it slide into place in his chest. It says, without the need to say it (though he's sure the two of them will find any excuse to compliment each other about it before the night is over) that this evening has been a success, that Phainon has enjoyed himself, and that he'd like to do it again. The Cat had all but promised to bend him over the table during their text conversation, and he'll still happily do that, but the fact it's not pinned to his worth as company is... it's good. It's nice.
If Simon hadn't very recently reassured him (kind of) of the very same thing, he might be having a Moment right now. But, luckily for Phainon, the Cat can be very cool about this. ]
[ It's quite endearing, to be the person making someone else blush for the first time in a little while, and Phainon finds himself enjoying the fact that he's been able to do it for someone who is as flirtatious as the Cat is. It's not as though he had imagined him entirely immune to the sentiment, but the slight reversal of their roles makes him feel a little bit of giddiness, like winning.
Mydeimos had once said that Phainon enjoyed fighting because he was able to turn his mind off, to let his thoughts settle on the singular focus of raising his blade and cutting down any enemy. Being in this world, his singular focus is, instead, on making their wishes come true, so he is trying a little harder. He is being more flirtatious, more deliberate, less cautious, and while it might come to bite him later...
For now, he's happy. ]
I'll warn you beforehand, don't worry!
[ The blush is endearing, and Phainon wants to touch it, to feel the real, human warmth of it, but he barely resists. ]
[ The Cat rolls his eyes. Because that's what he was worried about, sure. But there's a fond little smile curling his lips as he does it. ]
I said, come over whenever you want. I don't mind.
[ His body is settling comfortably into the feeling of Phainon's hand on his calf, fingers painting idle patterns on his bare skin. He feels warm, even where the cropped hem of his shirt leaves him bare to the elements; the skin there is flushed, from the wine or the comfort or both. He feels good. He's starting to feel like that's just a byproduct of being around Phainon. Or maybe he's just tipsy. ]
You won't find me asking permission every time I use my powers to turn up here. I can do it so easily now that I've been here already. [ He scoops up the bottle from Phainon's grasp, finding it so much easier to lean into teasing and his easy brand of flirtation than he does dwelling on things that make him feel soft and kitten-like. ] Maybe I'll see if curling up in your bed lets me sleep any easier.
[ Phainon's fingers keep idly brushing and playing, enjoying the feeling of warm skin under his touch. It's been a long time since he allowed himself to be tactile, but he's finding comfort in that. After all these years, where his body was burning up from the inside thanks to the 33,550,336 cycles he had lived, and the twelve Coreflames he had taken in each one.
It felt, for a long time, as though his hands were unworthy of such sweet, simple touch.
Laughing softly, he watches Cat with a fond gaze. ]
I'll drop by, in that case.
[ Thumb moving idly, Phainon leans forward, a soft flash of concern settling over his features. ]
Do you have trouble sleeping? If you think it would help, you can come over. I wouldn't mind.
[ That look of concern pulls at the Cat's heart. When was the last time someone looked at him like that? Not for a long while before his arrival here, and then a couple of people he's met in Decadia, who he holds close to his heart but keeps at arm's length out of necessity. Has Phainon become one of those people too?
If he thinks about it, he can imagine it so. He already thinks about him enough, and after tonight it'll be even more difficult to get him off his mind. ]
Mm, maybe I'll do just that then. I'll keep your bed niiiice and warm for you when you get back to it. Or maybe I'll sneak in while you're already snoozing and leech all your warmth.
[ He grins, but he feels like he owes that look some soothing, so he reaches out with the hand that isn't grasping the bottle, and pokes the little crease in Phainon's brow with a claw. ]
I can't shift forms as easily as I can in my own world, and I sleep better as a cat. I just can't get as comfortable. That's all.
[ Phainon pauses for a moment, because he's struck by one very clear thing that he hadn't realised: he can turn into an actual cat?
It should've been obvious, and in hindsight maybe it is. He feels the giggles bubble up from his stomach, and he's taking the hand not brushing idle, silly shapes into the other man's skin, reaching out to grab at the one poking him, thumb against the pulse point before he breathes out, ignoring the way he laughs softly. ]
I'm not laughing at you! I only...
[ He squeezes Cat's wrist. ]
I'm not sure why I didn't realise you were actually a cat, as well.
[ Phainon sounds a little sheepish about it too, shaking his head fondly. ]
[ The Cat frowns a little at the sudden sound of laughter, so it's a good thing Phainon reassures him before the soreness settles in — only... the Cat is very much aware how it hadn't even occurred to him to feel offended, only confused, like he couldn't imagine Phainon would be so cruel and unthinking to him.
He narrows his eyes a bit, but his expression is amused, and when Phainon grabs at his wrist he takes it as an opportunity to shift a little closer in the pantomime of scrutinising him, but in actuality because he just wanted to get close to that face. He looks good when he laughs. He looks good all the time, but the Cat likes him like this the most. Well, maybe not the most. But it's a close second. ]
What, you thought I was just a fruity human tasked with bossing a hundred and forty-six cats around? [ He quirks his eyebrow as if that's a stupid fucking idea when, to an outsider's perspective, that's exactly what his situation looks like. ] I'm a cat first, Phainon. This is a glamour I made myself.
[ Let that one sink in. His smile goes a little flatter. It doesn't disappear completely, but some of the humour certainly dissipates. ]
So if you want to change your mind about bedwarming now, it'd be a good time to do it. Otherwise I'm going to climb into your lap and kiss you.
It's not as though you have spent much time telling me about any of that!
[ A cat first. That's something for him to unpack later, when he's not so caught up in the man next to him.
The truth is that they haven't really spoken in depth about their own histories, their backstories, the things that exist outside the bubbles of their intimacy. In hindsight, he's sure there's probably more that he could have done to bridge that gap, to try and learn a little more about Cat, but isn't that what he's doing now? A nice dinner, conversation, questions to unpick and find out as much as he can.
He isn't cruel, and he isn't unkind, not to those who are not his enemies. Cat King is no enemy, is a friend, growing dearer by the day, and Phainon leans as well, mirroring the slow movement of the man before him. With his legs where they are, they're already close, but it feels as if there's some form of magnet, something keeping them from being too distant with one another.
The hand on the Cat's leg tightens, briefly, and his smile remains small, but soft. ]
Why would I turn you away?
[ Tugging on the wrist, he brings it close, to try and press a kiss to the steady thrum of his pulse. ]
[ True enough. The Cat King doesn't hide who or what he is the same way some might in this place — if Phainon asks, the Cat will answer; if he doesn't offer it up himself before that... it's just that they haven't had much opportunity for conversation before tonight, and the Cat normally lets people know what he is before he goes allowing them into the softer parts of his consideration.
If it changed anything or made Phainon feel strange, it wouldn't be the first time, and the Cat would have simply gone home and never crossed Phainon's path again. Simple. And yet he's full to the brim with the sudden rush of relief that such an outcome isn't one he has to face. He could kiss him. He will kiss him. Especially if he keeps looking at him with that soft smile, pulling his hand close to—
When Phainon kisses his wrist, the Cat's mind goes back to a soft kiss pressed to his cheek, to a fond smile and a soft nod, and remembers the way his heart had slammed in his chest as though it wanted to crawl out and follow the retreating ghost. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this. But he also thought this wouldn't, couldn't happen to him. Why shouldn't he have it, if it's being offered up to him so readily?
He slides his body forward, brushing his hand away from Phainon's mouth like he's jealous it got there before him, kissing him hard but chastely – just a press of their mouths before he's drawing back so that he can sit in his lap properly. A recreation, almost, of their first meeting. It makes him smile, sharp and pointed, before he leans down to kiss Phainon properly. Their conversation isn't over, he'll make sure of it, but now he just wants to enjoy this. ]
[ Phainon doesn't know what to expect, where things will go. There's a strange gulf between them, unasked questions on the tip of their tongues, and he's not sure what he would say to the ones offered to him. Could he speak of his small, quaint village without crying, knowing it will never come back? Would he be able to whisper more about being an Heir, the Black Tide, without the weight of his grief making him weak and fragile?
In a way, he's glad he doesn't have to think of the answers to those things, glad that he can let his eyes drag over the Cat instead. It makes it easier, as it has done in the past. He can focus instead on his hands, his touch, the solid weight of his body over him, and how warm it makes him feel. How strange it is, to have a friend he cares for, one whose blood has never stained his hands, whose life has never been plundered in the hope of a better future.
Cat King does not know his violence, only his softness, and Phainon wants to keep it that way. Let him never know Khaslana, who had become the Dawn and burned all the love inside himself in the making.
Leaning into the kiss, he smiles, one arm wrapping around Cat's waist to hold him there. It's easier than the one they had shared before, that first idle flirtation becoming something more at the celebration, Phainon less nervous, less shy. He has confidence with the Cat King touching him, kissing and wanting him, knowing he can give and take and be welcomed. He trusts in that, even if his other words are buried somewhere deep inside.
It doesn't need to become sexual, but the desire remains, unable to be resisted.
Phainon keeps the kiss soft, and slow, almost sweet, basking in the heat of it. He smiles into it, his other hand sliding to the Cat's waist, to find the soft skin there and pet it, to let his fingers find his warmth and grasp onto it. It makes his chilled fingers feel better - cold to him, but likely not to anyone else, the loss of his Coreflames making all his limbs feel frozen. ]
[ The Cat tucks the bottle in his other hand between the seat cushions so that he can get both of his hands to Phainon's jaw. This position, too, is familiar; though instead of having Phainon folded beneath him mid-fuck, he's simply holding him close because it feels good and comfortable to do it. But it isn't all that far removed. Back then, he'd wanted to hold him close to cling to the moment, knowing that it was soon to end and wishing he could stay basking in the way it felt. For the pleasure of it, yes, but for the closeness too. Now, Phainon is just as pliant underneath him, but he's different too. So content to be kissed and to kiss him back, smiling against him, touching him. It's slower, less urgent, non-specific in the direction it's heading.
The Cat loves to kiss, could happily get lost in it for without so much as thinking of resurfacing, and honestly hadn't realised how much he truly missed it until he arrived in this place where physicality means everything and kissing is its own gateway drug. But he could get used to this soft directionless kind. Climbing into Phainon's bed to kiss him like this. Waking him in the morning with a kiss like this. Finding him out in the city to pull him onto a bench somewhere and kiss him, just like this. Perhaps he'll even catch him at the gym and lick the sweat off his top lip before kissing him goodbye. All stupid, ridiculous, romantic things that he's never let himself think about except in private, painful moments like these. Things he hurts himself on purpose by wanting.
He imagined them with Edwin, with Simon, and look how that turned out. But Phainon kisses him back. Phainon wants him here, with him. So... Perhaps he can covet this, in his own way, in his own mind. Perhaps this can be his and his alone.
He parts their mouths only to breathe, lifting his paws to slide appraisingly back through Phainon's soft hair, two handfuls of pale locks the way one might pet an eager dog. He laughs, soft and affectionate. ]
I could kiss you for hours. [ He heaves a dramatic sigh. ] How am I going to get anything done now...
[ Before arriving here, Phainon hadn't been someone inclined to decadence, to letting himself indulge beyond more than what was needed. He had a singular focus, a carefully fostered desire, to enact vengeance upon the Black Tide and to honour the village and friends he carried in his heart. Inheriting the cycles did nothing to stop that, the bitterness real and sharp inside him, and the facade he wears, the mask that is half himself and half not, has settled onto him in this world with ease.
Below all the horror and the nightmare is the boy who wanted to be a hero, the man who raised his blade to the sky and swore to become the world's Deliverer. It feels further away at times, and too close to his heart at others, but Phainon is recognising the parts of himself that are one or the other. Phainon, a farm boy turned soldier; Khaslana, the manifestation of hate. They're both part of him now, and he is slowly coming to terms with it, accepting, understand, refusing to falter.
Pulling Cat a little tighter, he hums into the kiss, tilting into the touch of his hands, enjoying the echo of his laugh. The apartment is theirs, with no one to bother them for at least a little while, and he wants to enjoy this. There's freedom in that laugh, and something real under it, something that makes his chest feel tight and his cheeks feel hot, hands keen to touch and take and anchor. Admitting to a desire is hard, nigh impossible for Phainon, but the more time he spends here the easier it feels.
Their noses nudge, and his smile widens into a grin, tilting his head and watching the other man fondly. ]
Did you make plans for after our dinner? Should I be offended?
[ Tilting up, he noses at the Cat's jaw, brushing his mouth against the sharp edge of it, teasing, enjoying the feeling of being close. ]
[ His eyes flash, amused. ] Greedy, puppy. No, nothing like that, but I can't spend every hour of every day thinking about your mouth. That really would be indulgent.
[ He lets the implication that he's spent any time at all prior to this meeting thinking about Phainon's mouth go unspoken, because not only should it be obvious that he has, given the texts he sent Phainon recently, but he's a little embarrassed at how much he's been thinking about it, amongst other things. ]
But I've always been bad at showing resistance. I want too much to hold myself back from it. And you, puppy, you're much too sweet to resist.
[ Is he convincing himself he simply had no chance not falling into things this honey trap of a man? Was he doomed from the start by his big eyes and his gentle face? His apprehension turned burning need that the Cat can relate to so succinctly, if not in the exact same way Phainon feels it? Who knows. But, as he smooths his hand through his hair again, tilting his head ever so slightly to watch it pass through his claws, he thinks it might not be so bad. He's survived before, he'll survive again. ]
But I feel like I should get a few more revelations out of the way before I get too carried away with you, and you answered so many of my questions before, so... Is there anything you want to ask me?
[ It would be easy to make a comment about that being the purpose of their time here, but Phainon doesn't want to ruin the moment by making it sound like that's all that matters to him. He might have come here for the purpose of his wish, but his desire for Cat is real, not linked specifically to the contract he had signed or the need to make sure he does as he is told.
It's a little more than that.
Nudging their noses together again, he hums softly. ]
I'll have a little restraint for us both, then.
[ Not that it stops him from letting his fingers stroke over the small of his back, not that it stops him from holding the other man closer, resting his chin against him as he gazes up. He's a little bit like putty under him, enjoying being petted and held, as if he really is a domesticated dog at the heel of his master. It would be funny if the comparison wasn't a little too close to home.
Humming, he tilts his head, eyes almost unblinking. ]
Anything I want?
[ There's a moment of consideration, and then - ]
I'd like to know what else you enjoy doing in your free time... Other than thinking about kissing me.
[ Resistance, to the Cat, is an opportunity to push. Even when he swore off humans for life, he still found himself weaving between the proverbial (and literal) legs of ones that caught his eye. Even when he arrived here and decided he was determinedly not going to act like a lovesick idiot in the throes of a rebound, he still sought out familiar faces more than once. Followed them to their apartments, watched them at a distance, and pushed his claws in deep when he should have kept them back.
Resisting Phainon feels like pressing those claws to a new couch without tarnishing it. Like taking a bite and not a mouthful. Like feeling the heat without jumping into the fire. Temptation, resistance. The Cat is weak to both.
So, though he talks a big game about not kissing Phainon's mouth, not letting himself get distracted that way... he said fucking nothing about kissing him elsewhere.
He lets Phainon rub their noses together, eyelashes flickering softly, smile going tender as he focuses in on the physicality of him; those hands at his back, the way he holds the Cat close like the only reason he's accepting the pause of their kisses is because he can still have him like this. Cute. Another tally mark on bites for later.
And at the sound of his request, he quirks his eyebrow a little, but nods his consent to answer. But not before he leans down, pressing his mouth to Phainon's jaw, and then another and another, back toward his ear and against the lobe of it. And between every kiss, he gives Phainon what he asked for: ]
I like... clothes shopping and fashion, so I like putting together outfits. I like to read, and I like to watch movies, though my choices in that department are a little- [ He nips his ear softly with his fangs, but not enough to be considered a bite, then starts down his neck. ] -limited, here. Hmmm, what else. I like to people watch. I like getting a coffee and just watching the world and the people in it go by. I like taking naps. I like buying and arranging flowers.
[ He pauses, lips to his collar, on the very precipice of going further, and then retracting to blink almost innocently at the other man. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Phainon had trusted him then, to treat him well even as he shoved him right up against the brink, and the feeling was a gratifying one. Even more so now with the reminder, said so casually over dinner. It makes the Cat want to repeat the steps he'd performed at the ball; forget the meal on the table and climb right into Phainon's lap. Prove to himself it's real. Give Phainon even more reason to believe that he's earned that trust.
But, as he inhales, exhales, lets the prickle of anticipation make a sharp fist of his claws, he wants to do this right. Is it thanks for inviting him over? Thanks for not delving too deep into the content of that stupid post? Thanks for liking him enough to let him hit it more than once, when the pool of people with that privilege is so small? Or is it just his romantic heart enjoying something simmering for once, rather than forcing the heat and making it boil before he gets a chance to want it too badly? ]
Ahhh, I see. Now I get it. Now it makes sense.
[ He says, wagging his finger at Phainon, smile easy and wide, scooping up the last morsel of his meal before sitting back in his chair, wine cradled in his hand, the very rim of the glass poised against his mouth. He looks smug, like he's cracked a particularly difficult puzzle, when really he's just found a tease too delicious to resist. ]
You've got a thing for royalty, haven't you?
no subject
He had trusted the Trailblazer in the same way, offering his life and his hopes for them to bear.
It might be that Cat is simply the perfect kind of person to sneak under his skin and steal the breath from him, without him even being conscious of it.
Even now, sitting together and finishing a simple meal, he can feel the buzz of tension between them, the anticipation. There doesn't have to be more, and he doesn't expect every meeting he has with Cat to turn into something sexual, but the knowledge that it could is heady, too. They're comfortable enough with one another that one thing could lead to the next, and Phainon wouldn't be too offended. He would enjoy himself, and they'd get closer to their wishes.
The finger waggle makes him laugh, and he leans back in his chair, cradling his drink.
Putting the pieces together... Mydeimos, Cat King and Zelda? It's not looking that good for him or any protests he might try to offer. ]
Not consciously!
[ The protest is weak, though, as he smiles behind his glass, taking another long drink. ]
Maybe there are just too many royals here that it was bound to happen.
no subject
The fact that he's found it here, in the kitchen of a shared apartment, on a dinner date for the first time in who knows how many years, with a man he's bitten almost as many times as he's kissed, who looks at him with warmth and unrestrained affection, who he will almost definitely get to kiss (at the very least) before he leaves... is not what he expected to find in this place. But he definitely isn't complaining. He'll only do that later when he realises how his heart aches for it once he's back home.
At the sound of Phainon's protest, his eyes tighten for a moment but then relax almost as quickly. ]
You have a point, actually. Before I came here, I hadn't seen another monarch of any kind for hundreds of years. But it looks like this place is crawling with them.
[ He smirks, taking a good mouthful of his wine and cleaning a stray drop that may or may not have existed in the first place off his scarred lip with his tongue. ]
No Kings though. That still all mine, for now.
no subject
Not now, at least, though if Cat keeps looking at him the way he does, the smirk, the teasing, all of it together, he thinks he might fold faster than he would like, and that would be embarrassing in its own right. It's not like Cat isn't aware of how much Phainon would indulge with him, but he doesn't want to make it so obvious it's embarrassing, or boring or worse.
He enjoys his company, not just for his hands or what he can do with the rest of his shape, but because he is good at talking. It can be both.
Humming, he shakes his head. ]
Mydeimos was the only royal I had really met. Even monarchs have wishes!
[ Tilting his head, he smiles again, fond, puppyish. The words come to him easily, and he tries to stop staring, being obvious about it all. ]
Would you prefer I call you that? My king? Your majesty? [ His cheeks are a touch warm. ] It wouldn't offend.
no subject
He's enjoying the comfort too, settling into his seat and only wishing idly that they were sitting somewhere he could press a thigh or an arm against Phainon's body, in the way cats tend to do when they're content to sit and not be disturbed. The last place they'd been close like that was Phainon's bed, and is suddenly very aware of the path through the apartment to get to it. He feels like suggesting it, however, might suggest the wrong idea. Or the right one.
When Phainon asks him such a sweet question with all the innocence of a puppy tilting its head at the idea of being scooped up for a walk, the Cat finds himself laughing; the sound is warm, helplessly endeared, but the look in his eyes reads hunger. ]
You have no idea how many people I've suggested that title to. Not one has taken me up on it, unless it's as a joke.
[ Your majesty is one thing. He almost likes it when a certain few people use it, less like a taunt but more like a pet name than a title... But my King. My King, my king, my king. He could tell Phainon to repeat that again and again and the Cat knows that he would. Dangerous. Dangerous and tempting. ]
Call me whatever you want when the mood takes you, puppy. It's all the same to me.
[ If he says it out loud, he might even believe it. ]
no subject
It doesn't stop him from wondering all the same, curious and thoughtful before he nudges it aside, to focus on the here and now.
The conversation can continue as he tidies up, so he stands, reluctantly untangling their feet, gathering the plates and taking them back to the kitchen to leave in the sink. He grabs the bottle of wine on the way back, moving to lean against the table and smile down at Cat as he does, placing the bottle between them. It's there, if he wants it, but if he has found his limit that is also fine as well. Phainon isn't going to be the type of host that bothers his guests into matching or not matching his own pace.
Instead, he focuses on replying, smile widening. ]
I wouldn't mean it as a joke.
[ But, he suspects Cat knows that.
Gaze set, blue eyes almost smouldering, as if that inner fire is there ready to blaze openly and widely, Phainon tilts his head. ]
I might save it for the more special moments.
[ There's something particularly alluring about the idea of being on his knees, whispering my king as he shows Cat what he is able to do with his mouth. ]
Shall we sit?
no subject
Instead, he reaches for the bottle as he stands, tilting his head in a parroting of Phainon's own movement while also having to tip it up slightly to look at him, wondering what he's thinking about. Wondering if he'd tell him if he asked. ]
I'm looking forward to finding out what you'll deem a special moment.
[ He says, the curve of a mysterious smile twisting his mouth as he nods, turning his head to the rest of the apartment he's wilfully ignored until now. ]
I was wondering if we'd move this to a couch, but then I thought that you and bestie might have replaced all reasonably comfortable furniture with a home gym setup to keep looking the way you do. [ He's putting a huff into his voice, but the root truth of his words is that he's very vividly aware of how good Phainon looks physically, even without focusing on his pretty little face. ] I thought it a little cruel to remind you of what you might be missing out on. My whole apartment is basically one big couch by comparion.
no subject
He follows after Cat, his eyes soft as he shakes his head. ]
I try to use the gym when it’s quieter, so people are less inclined to comment on what I’m doing. Mydeimos and I spar often, and I like to run in the mornings.
[ Phainon is particularly passionate about the sunrises he gets to see, the way it makes him painfully happy to witness each one. He never thought he’d get a chase to enjoy something as simple as that. A new day, rather than an endless one.
Motioning to the sofa, he sits. He wonders if Cat sit near, or far, or even on top of him. He won’t mind either way.
Slowly, his smile widens. ]
That sounds like you’re inviting me to see your apartment, Cat.
no subject
Does it? [ He says, amused, circling the other side of the couch and moving to sit at Phainon's side in an almost polite way, before almost immediately backtracking and throwing his legs over his lap as though he owns it. Typical Cat behaviour. ] I can't think what you'd want to see it for. Like I said. Basically one big couch. And there's nowhere near as much room in it as you've got here.
[ Due to the fact it's basically one room and he went on an almost rampage to find as many soft things as he could to pile onto the bed within the first few days of his arrival and... has not done anything with them since. Not having pocket dimensions here is a pain. ]
I guess there is a pretty cute cat in it, though.
[ He shrugs, then his smile goes pointed, as he takes a sip from the mouth of the bottle, before holding it out. So much for his earlier manners. ]
And Vyvyan is there sometimes, too.
[ Heh. ]
no subject
As soon as those legs are on his lap, he’s reaching down to rest his hands on them. His fingers brush idly over the shape of his shin, before one slides down to rest against his ankle. It’s nice, comforting in a way, to stroke his finger there, to touch the other man’s warm skin as they talk, and enjoy the intimacy. It’s not the same as en embrace, or being curled up together, but it remains sweet.
Tilting his head, he listens to the other man speak before he smiles wider. ]
You can’t think of a single reason why I’d want to visit your home?
[ Even if it wasn’t for a sexual reason, Phainon would want to see where his friend lives, spend time with him. This evening has proven how well they can get along, even outside of the bedroom, and he hopes that Cat realises it. He hopes that the man knows he doesn’t just want him for the sultry way he speaks or the taste of his mouth, but for all the other parts, too.
It is painfully, only being one thing in the eyes of others. He knows.
Taking the bottle, he laughs a little, squeezing Cat’s ankle as he lets himself take his own drink, an indirect kiss of sorts. ]
I hope you’ll let me visit, one day. To see Vyvyan, right?
[ Hehe. ]
no subject
It isn't until Phainon asks, with that maddeningly attractive curious dog-like head tilt, that the Cat feels the reality of it slide into place in his chest. It says, without the need to say it (though he's sure the two of them will find any excuse to compliment each other about it before the night is over) that this evening has been a success, that Phainon has enjoyed himself, and that he'd like to do it again. The Cat had all but promised to bend him over the table during their text conversation, and he'll still happily do that, but the fact it's not pinned to his worth as company is... it's good. It's nice.
If Simon hadn't very recently reassured him (kind of) of the very same thing, he might be having a Moment right now. But, luckily for Phainon, the Cat can be very cool about this. ]
Come over whenever you want.
[ Like, so fucking cool. Is he blushing? ]
no subject
Mydeimos had once said that Phainon enjoyed fighting because he was able to turn his mind off, to let his thoughts settle on the singular focus of raising his blade and cutting down any enemy. Being in this world, his singular focus is, instead, on making their wishes come true, so he is trying a little harder. He is being more flirtatious, more deliberate, less cautious, and while it might come to bite him later...
For now, he's happy. ]
I'll warn you beforehand, don't worry!
[ The blush is endearing, and Phainon wants to touch it, to feel the real, human warmth of it, but he barely resists. ]
I won't drop in unannounced.
no subject
I said, come over whenever you want. I don't mind.
[ His body is settling comfortably into the feeling of Phainon's hand on his calf, fingers painting idle patterns on his bare skin. He feels warm, even where the cropped hem of his shirt leaves him bare to the elements; the skin there is flushed, from the wine or the comfort or both. He feels good. He's starting to feel like that's just a byproduct of being around Phainon. Or maybe he's just tipsy. ]
You won't find me asking permission every time I use my powers to turn up here. I can do it so easily now that I've been here already. [ He scoops up the bottle from Phainon's grasp, finding it so much easier to lean into teasing and his easy brand of flirtation than he does dwelling on things that make him feel soft and kitten-like. ] Maybe I'll see if curling up in your bed lets me sleep any easier.
no subject
It felt, for a long time, as though his hands were unworthy of such sweet, simple touch.
Laughing softly, he watches Cat with a fond gaze. ]
I'll drop by, in that case.
[ Thumb moving idly, Phainon leans forward, a soft flash of concern settling over his features. ]
Do you have trouble sleeping? If you think it would help, you can come over. I wouldn't mind.
no subject
If he thinks about it, he can imagine it so. He already thinks about him enough, and after tonight it'll be even more difficult to get him off his mind. ]
Mm, maybe I'll do just that then. I'll keep your bed niiiice and warm for you when you get back to it. Or maybe I'll sneak in while you're already snoozing and leech all your warmth.
[ He grins, but he feels like he owes that look some soothing, so he reaches out with the hand that isn't grasping the bottle, and pokes the little crease in Phainon's brow with a claw. ]
I can't shift forms as easily as I can in my own world, and I sleep better as a cat. I just can't get as comfortable. That's all.
no subject
It should've been obvious, and in hindsight maybe it is. He feels the giggles bubble up from his stomach, and he's taking the hand not brushing idle, silly shapes into the other man's skin, reaching out to grab at the one poking him, thumb against the pulse point before he breathes out, ignoring the way he laughs softly. ]
I'm not laughing at you! I only...
[ He squeezes Cat's wrist. ]
I'm not sure why I didn't realise you were actually a cat, as well.
[ Phainon sounds a little sheepish about it too, shaking his head fondly. ]
Keep my bed warm as often as you like.
no subject
He narrows his eyes a bit, but his expression is amused, and when Phainon grabs at his wrist he takes it as an opportunity to shift a little closer in the pantomime of scrutinising him, but in actuality because he just wanted to get close to that face. He looks good when he laughs. He looks good all the time, but the Cat likes him like this the most. Well, maybe not the most. But it's a close second. ]
What, you thought I was just a fruity human tasked with bossing a hundred and forty-six cats around? [ He quirks his eyebrow as if that's a stupid fucking idea when, to an outsider's perspective, that's exactly what his situation looks like. ] I'm a cat first, Phainon. This is a glamour I made myself.
[ Let that one sink in. His smile goes a little flatter. It doesn't disappear completely, but some of the humour certainly dissipates. ]
So if you want to change your mind about bedwarming now, it'd be a good time to do it. Otherwise I'm going to climb into your lap and kiss you.
no subject
[ A cat first. That's something for him to unpack later, when he's not so caught up in the man next to him.
The truth is that they haven't really spoken in depth about their own histories, their backstories, the things that exist outside the bubbles of their intimacy. In hindsight, he's sure there's probably more that he could have done to bridge that gap, to try and learn a little more about Cat, but isn't that what he's doing now? A nice dinner, conversation, questions to unpick and find out as much as he can.
He isn't cruel, and he isn't unkind, not to those who are not his enemies. Cat King is no enemy, is a friend, growing dearer by the day, and Phainon leans as well, mirroring the slow movement of the man before him. With his legs where they are, they're already close, but it feels as if there's some form of magnet, something keeping them from being too distant with one another.
The hand on the Cat's leg tightens, briefly, and his smile remains small, but soft. ]
Why would I turn you away?
[ Tugging on the wrist, he brings it close, to try and press a kiss to the steady thrum of his pulse. ]
I want you right here, with me.
no subject
If it changed anything or made Phainon feel strange, it wouldn't be the first time, and the Cat would have simply gone home and never crossed Phainon's path again. Simple. And yet he's full to the brim with the sudden rush of relief that such an outcome isn't one he has to face. He could kiss him. He will kiss him. Especially if he keeps looking at him with that soft smile, pulling his hand close to—
When Phainon kisses his wrist, the Cat's mind goes back to a soft kiss pressed to his cheek, to a fond smile and a soft nod, and remembers the way his heart had slammed in his chest as though it wanted to crawl out and follow the retreating ghost. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this. But he also thought this wouldn't, couldn't happen to him. Why shouldn't he have it, if it's being offered up to him so readily?
He slides his body forward, brushing his hand away from Phainon's mouth like he's jealous it got there before him, kissing him hard but chastely – just a press of their mouths before he's drawing back so that he can sit in his lap properly. A recreation, almost, of their first meeting. It makes him smile, sharp and pointed, before he leans down to kiss Phainon properly. Their conversation isn't over, he'll make sure of it, but now he just wants to enjoy this. ]
no subject
In a way, he's glad he doesn't have to think of the answers to those things, glad that he can let his eyes drag over the Cat instead. It makes it easier, as it has done in the past. He can focus instead on his hands, his touch, the solid weight of his body over him, and how warm it makes him feel. How strange it is, to have a friend he cares for, one whose blood has never stained his hands, whose life has never been plundered in the hope of a better future.
Cat King does not know his violence, only his softness, and Phainon wants to keep it that way. Let him never know Khaslana, who had become the Dawn and burned all the love inside himself in the making.
Leaning into the kiss, he smiles, one arm wrapping around Cat's waist to hold him there. It's easier than the one they had shared before, that first idle flirtation becoming something more at the celebration, Phainon less nervous, less shy. He has confidence with the Cat King touching him, kissing and wanting him, knowing he can give and take and be welcomed. He trusts in that, even if his other words are buried somewhere deep inside.
It doesn't need to become sexual, but the desire remains, unable to be resisted.
Phainon keeps the kiss soft, and slow, almost sweet, basking in the heat of it. He smiles into it, his other hand sliding to the Cat's waist, to find the soft skin there and pet it, to let his fingers find his warmth and grasp onto it. It makes his chilled fingers feel better - cold to him, but likely not to anyone else, the loss of his Coreflames making all his limbs feel frozen. ]
no subject
The Cat loves to kiss, could happily get lost in it for without so much as thinking of resurfacing, and honestly hadn't realised how much he truly missed it until he arrived in this place where physicality means everything and kissing is its own gateway drug. But he could get used to this soft directionless kind. Climbing into Phainon's bed to kiss him like this. Waking him in the morning with a kiss like this. Finding him out in the city to pull him onto a bench somewhere and kiss him, just like this. Perhaps he'll even catch him at the gym and lick the sweat off his top lip before kissing him goodbye. All stupid, ridiculous, romantic things that he's never let himself think about except in private, painful moments like these. Things he hurts himself on purpose by wanting.
He imagined them with Edwin, with Simon, and look how that turned out. But Phainon kisses him back. Phainon wants him here, with him. So... Perhaps he can covet this, in his own way, in his own mind. Perhaps this can be his and his alone.
He parts their mouths only to breathe, lifting his paws to slide appraisingly back through Phainon's soft hair, two handfuls of pale locks the way one might pet an eager dog. He laughs, soft and affectionate. ]
I could kiss you for hours. [ He heaves a dramatic sigh. ] How am I going to get anything done now...
no subject
Below all the horror and the nightmare is the boy who wanted to be a hero, the man who raised his blade to the sky and swore to become the world's Deliverer. It feels further away at times, and too close to his heart at others, but Phainon is recognising the parts of himself that are one or the other. Phainon, a farm boy turned soldier; Khaslana, the manifestation of hate. They're both part of him now, and he is slowly coming to terms with it, accepting, understand, refusing to falter.
Pulling Cat a little tighter, he hums into the kiss, tilting into the touch of his hands, enjoying the echo of his laugh. The apartment is theirs, with no one to bother them for at least a little while, and he wants to enjoy this. There's freedom in that laugh, and something real under it, something that makes his chest feel tight and his cheeks feel hot, hands keen to touch and take and anchor. Admitting to a desire is hard, nigh impossible for Phainon, but the more time he spends here the easier it feels.
Their noses nudge, and his smile widens into a grin, tilting his head and watching the other man fondly. ]
Did you make plans for after our dinner? Should I be offended?
[ Tilting up, he noses at the Cat's jaw, brushing his mouth against the sharp edge of it, teasing, enjoying the feeling of being close. ]
No one said you had to stop kissing me.
no subject
[ He lets the implication that he's spent any time at all prior to this meeting thinking about Phainon's mouth go unspoken, because not only should it be obvious that he has, given the texts he sent Phainon recently, but he's a little embarrassed at how much he's been thinking about it, amongst other things. ]
But I've always been bad at showing resistance. I want too much to hold myself back from it. And you, puppy, you're much too sweet to resist.
[ Is he convincing himself he simply had no chance not falling into things this honey trap of a man? Was he doomed from the start by his big eyes and his gentle face? His apprehension turned burning need that the Cat can relate to so succinctly, if not in the exact same way Phainon feels it? Who knows. But, as he smooths his hand through his hair again, tilting his head ever so slightly to watch it pass through his claws, he thinks it might not be so bad. He's survived before, he'll survive again. ]
But I feel like I should get a few more revelations out of the way before I get too carried away with you, and you answered so many of my questions before, so... Is there anything you want to ask me?
no subject
It's a little more than that.
Nudging their noses together again, he hums softly. ]
I'll have a little restraint for us both, then.
[ Not that it stops him from letting his fingers stroke over the small of his back, not that it stops him from holding the other man closer, resting his chin against him as he gazes up. He's a little bit like putty under him, enjoying being petted and held, as if he really is a domesticated dog at the heel of his master. It would be funny if the comparison wasn't a little too close to home.
Humming, he tilts his head, eyes almost unblinking. ]
Anything I want?
[ There's a moment of consideration, and then - ]
I'd like to know what else you enjoy doing in your free time... Other than thinking about kissing me.
no subject
Resisting Phainon feels like pressing those claws to a new couch without tarnishing it. Like taking a bite and not a mouthful. Like feeling the heat without jumping into the fire. Temptation, resistance. The Cat is weak to both.
So, though he talks a big game about not kissing Phainon's mouth, not letting himself get distracted that way... he said fucking nothing about kissing him elsewhere.
He lets Phainon rub their noses together, eyelashes flickering softly, smile going tender as he focuses in on the physicality of him; those hands at his back, the way he holds the Cat close like the only reason he's accepting the pause of their kisses is because he can still have him like this. Cute. Another tally mark on bites for later.
And at the sound of his request, he quirks his eyebrow a little, but nods his consent to answer. But not before he leans down, pressing his mouth to Phainon's jaw, and then another and another, back toward his ear and against the lobe of it. And between every kiss, he gives Phainon what he asked for: ]
I like... clothes shopping and fashion, so I like putting together outfits. I like to read, and I like to watch movies, though my choices in that department are a little- [ He nips his ear softly with his fangs, but not enough to be considered a bite, then starts down his neck. ] -limited, here. Hmmm, what else. I like to people watch. I like getting a coffee and just watching the world and the people in it go by. I like taking naps. I like buying and arranging flowers.
[ He pauses, lips to his collar, on the very precipice of going further, and then retracting to blink almost innocently at the other man. ]
Is that enough?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)