Elijah
[did I survive?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (2, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 1 )
Elijah
The
apartment finally had art on the walls, the boxes were unpacked, things
were finally where they could be presentable so, naturally, this meant
one thing: it was time for a massive fucking house party.
Well,
not exactly massive. A house party that could fit the apartment, which
was to say: a house party that made it come close to breaking fire code
by having too damned many people in a tiny space. There were maybe
twenty-five people there. Thirty if one counted the constant flow of
people coming in or going out or loitering in the hallway because there
were always people loitering in the hallway and the neighbors would have
been mad had they not been over already to enjoy the benefits of free
beer and a shit ton of alcohol.
The crowd there was mostly in
their twenties, the youngest person at said party being one of the
people throwing said party and one of the oldest being a thirty seven
year old man who lived two doors down from Elijah, but came anyway
because he worked with Jenn and they both had a surprising amount of
tattoos. He said he could get her on with a shop, and Elijah was
content because Daryl was a cool enough guy.
There was a
diverse group of attendees, but most seemed to be Elijah's friends from
class or East Colfax or strangers. Mostly strangers. Strangers who liked
to party, who came because they heard there was something good and they
brought with them booze and weed and the occasional person came and
bartered MDMA for something, like it was a big pharmaceutical game of
Settlers of Catan- I've got Molly for shrooms. Daryl brought those. He
was an aging sort who liked to trip out. Elijah and Daryl got along just
fine.
People were everywhere. In the loft area, on the
balcony smoking, in the kitchen making pizza rolls (because someone
didn't bring drugs or booze but they DID bring pizza rolls and,
therefore, Tyrel and Shawna were the VIPs of the party) and some people
were in the living room trying to avoid sitting on the coffee table
because Elijah warned them that if someone broke any of the furniture
they'd have to take him on an IKEA run again.
Ian
[Awareness compass - where you at, Elijah?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Ian
It
wasn't all that long ago really that Ian had been in college himself.
And let's face it, no one threw a fucking party like performing arts
majors. So the scene that Ian found when he arrived at Elijah's
apartment was a familiar one. Maybe even a welcome one. Ian didn't blend
with the crowd, because Ian never blended, but he slipped into it with
the same graceful ease he'd shown that night when he'd met Elijah on the
dance floor. Confident and relaxed, with a bottle of rye whiskey in his
hand. He didn't know any of these people, but that didn't matter much. A
party was a fucking party, and people like Ian didn't need
introductions in order to get noticed.
He passed the people in
the hall with a nod, and maybe one or two of them let their eyes linger
on him as he slipped through the door (or maybe it was the bottle of
Sazerac they were eyeing.) Inside the apartment, there was barely room
to move. All around him there was music and laughter and booming voices.
People were high or drunk (or both) or hanging out in the kitchen
making pizza rolls, and generally everyone seemed to be having a pretty
fucking good time.
Ian wasn't high, or drunk, and he didn't
really eat pizza rolls, but at least one of those things might change by
the time the night was over.
Elijah wasn't in the living
room, but Ian could feel the tumultuous rhythm of his resonance. Weak at
first (like a whisper of chaos,) then stronger as he followed it back
to its source. When Ian reached the balcony, he leaned against the
door-frame and held up the bottle of whiskey. He was wearing coated
black jeans, leather boots and a white t-shirt.
"Brought you a present."
Elijah
And
some people do stare, one from the pizza roll crowd, a couple from the
living room eyed the whiskey. People generally seemed to be enjoying
themselves, and the party seemed even devoid of the standard drunk girl
crying in the bathroom, because there was always a drunk girl crying in
the bathroom at these sorts of events, it just happened. People cried,
and when they cried they did it in bathrooms.
Elijah was on
the balcony, clad in his standard attire- which (as they established)
was too fucking much clothing. In the event that things ever devolved
into strip poker he had a very distinct advantage, you see. Not that
this was the point of his choice in vest, but rather, because he needed a
place for his-
"Seriously, Elijah, what's so special about
the watch?" Jenn asked. She would have been manning the outside of the
party, being a gracious hostess, but the woman was having a rather good
time out on the balcony with Elijah and the other set of people getting
stoned on the balcony. Jenn had a brownie in hand, her stature small by
comparison.
She was a pretty girl, under five and a half feet
tall with large eyes and a messy haircut. She had on high waisted shorts
and a cropped sweatshirt Jenn would not have an advantage at
strip poker. Elijah just grinned, saved from having to answer his room
mate's question by Ian. Elijah couldn't wipe the grin off his face.
"Ain't you good to me?" Elijah said as he sauntered over to greet Ian and retrieve the bottle.
Jen's jaw dropped.
"Dude, that is so not fair. You know DJ Halycon and Ian Lai."
"Your last name is Lai?"
Ian
It
wasn't unheard of for people to recognize Ian by sight (it happened
less these days.) But only rarely had anyone ever been able to produce a
name to go with that recognition. Usually those who did were people who
had some connection to the fashion industry, or who at least followed
it closely. The kinds of people who wrote blog posts or posted pictures
on message boards about the next hot model. So when Jen rattled off his
name (his full name, which even Elijah didn't know) Ian looked at her
and raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
Then he laughed, because Elijah didn't know his last name.
"Yeah. What's yours?"
He
handed over the bottle of whiskey and lifted away from the door-frame,
offering a hand to Jen in greeting. "I'd introduce myself, but I guess I
don't need to."
Elijah
"Poirot," Elijah said.
Like the detective from those Agatha Christie novels. He took the
bottle of whiskey, looked left, then right, then opened it just long
enough to take a quick swig. To test the waters, of course, and to
confirm that it was fucking deliciousness and, as such, should be put to good use.
Jenn
took the offered hand and gave it a shake. She had a bright smile,
something chipper and pleased and she gave it a shake, "Jenna Fern
Laurent, but everybody just calls me Jenn. My mom had a sense of humor,
apparently."
"Jenn did my side piece," Elijah offered, as if
the placement of his tattoo was enough of a claim to fame, though the
mention of it does make Jenn turn a lovely shade of pink.
Ian
[Subterfuge - no, that name does not conjure up extremely sad and personal memories, and we are here to have a good time]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 3 ) Re-rolls: 1
Elijah
[Elijah, do I notice? -1 because I'm kiiiind of in an altered state]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )
Elijah
[Does Jenn notice?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Ian
"Nice." Ian's tone sounded genuinely complimentary. "You're an artist?"
There
was nothing especially notable about Ian's behavior here, and as far as
Elijah was concerned, he was calm and relaxed. Ian shook Jenn's hand.
He smiled. He'd brought whiskey. He had on gorgeous jeans. These were
clear and evident facts.
Jenn saw something a little different
though. She saw the way his smile did not altogether touch his eyes.
She saw the way his attention seemed to pause and hover on her when she
gave her name. She had no way of knowing why, and no real sense of what
was going on his head. All she knew was that when she said her name, it
threw him. Almost imperceptibly. But still, there it was.
"Maybe I'll give you a call if I ever decide I need a tattoo." (That part wasn't a lie.)
Ian
glanced at Elijah's lips. Impulsively, he leaned over and kissed him,
tasting the Sazerac on his breath. There were other tastes mingled with
it. Tequila and pot brownies. Ian didn't ask for the latter, but he
glanced at the whiskey bottle and said, "You're gonna share, right?" His
lips were still achingly close to Elijah's own, parted and wet and
taunting. Like he knew that no one was ever going to say no to him like
that.
Elijah
[Jenn: Manip+sub, I totally didn't notice! Nope! Playing it normal!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Elijah
There
were things that Jenn understood, and one of those things was the
importance to timing. She knew that she couldn't very well bring up
whatever it was that had startled Ian about her name, especially at a
party, especially since she literally just met him. THey are not
that kind of familiar and Jenn, socially graceful creature that she is,
decided to do what she had seen Elijah do half a dozen times before. She
was going to pretend like she didn't notice and go for it.
After
all, this was a party and the compliments seemed genuine enough to make
her blush again and laugh. Which was, of course, at the point where two
of the men Jenn considered to be on her potentially acceptable males to fool around with
list kissed she had to linger before she realized she was lingering,
which made her blush even more and head on inside. There wasn't much
space to respond, so Jenn's response was to smile and give a little
wiggle of her fingers to indicate that she was leaving. Besides, there
was the smell of pizza rolls and she had a brownie to finish. "Tyrel if
you burn down my kitchen, I swear!" which was enough for her to make her
exit.
Elijah worked in a world that was much more concrete,
though, because at that juncture he was kissing Ian and he tasted like
whiskey and tequila and brownies and chaos, because he always tasted
like chaos (and often had the lingering taste of tequila on his lips)
but he leaned in and closed his eyes and didn't precisely give a fuck
who might be watching them kiss because let them. Elijah had space enough to breathe and nothing else, whiskey bottle in hand.
Was he going to share.
"Yeah, I guess," Elijah said grudgingly, though not grudgingly in the slightest. He laughed between breaths, "truth or dare or I've never?"
He
leaned in to kiss Ian again, taking the opportunity to let the bottle
exchange hands while their lips met again. Like Hell Elijah was thinking
about telling him no to… well… damned near anything at that juncture.
Ian
Is it always that easy for you?
Shoshannah
had said that to him the first (and only) time they'd met. That was a
year ago now, right after Ian had first moved to Denver. And his
response?
Not always.
No, not always. But
often. Ian kissed Elijah because he felt like kissing him, but he also
kissed Elijah to distract himself. To ground himself. To remind himself
where he was and why he was here.
He also kissed Elijah
because he knew Elijah wasn't likely to say no to anything he asked
afterwards. And sure enough, Elijah passed back the bottle that Ian had
given him. And they kissed again, and Ian wasn't going to complain about
that. Except that too many more kisses and he might be just as likely
to suggest they leave the party entirely. He didn't do that yet, but he
did let that kiss linger longer, closing his eyes and tracing fingers
over Elijah's neck and jaw. When he pulled back, he took a drink from
the whiskey bottle, then handed it back to Elijah.
"I've never is a better drinking game."
Elijah
To be fair, Elijah Poirot was not a creature who was born of the answer no. Very rarely did he have a no
for much of anything. Maybe a maybe occasionally, but very rarely was
he one to deny anyone… well… much of anything. He was a creature of
excess, a creature of indulgences because there was always something new
around the corner. He'd recently been introduced to why sensation was
so important, why the method for ecstatic practices was trying to
transcend and he'd felt it for one relatively brief moment until
sunrise. Things were different, now, but then again doesn't magic shape
the world and the will worker?
He took the whiskey bottle with
that ubiquitous grin and he straightened himself up, "wanna see if we
can get other players? I'd say we get Tyrel and Shawna, but Tyrel's a
damn liar when he plays the game because he's is trying to keep on the
down low."
Elijah had to laugh, mostly out of amusement, "He ain't fooling anybody, but hey. Jenn would totally play if we asked her…"
Ian
"I think if we played alone it'd be more like telling each other random facts while we get drunk."
Which
wasn't necessarily a terrible way to spend an evening, but party games
really were better with more people. Ian stepped away slowly, pulling
himself free of Elijah's center of gravity, and he stepped back into the
kitchen where Jenn was checking on Tyrel and the pizza rolls.
"Elijah wants to play I've never. Anyone up for it?"
Ian
didn't know these people. Jenn was the only one of them he'd even been
introduced to. But that made it easier, in a way. It was a party. Nobody
really needed to know anyone. (And Ian didn't particularly care if
Tyrel was a damn liar.)
Elijah
"Aw, Hell no-" replied a younger African american gentleman. His hair was cropped short.
"Shut
up and play, Tyrel," Elijah demanded with his best authoritarian voice.
He didn't necessarily succeed at sounding like much of an authority
figure.
"I wanna play-" Jenn nodded and grabbed the hand of
some girl with dreadlocks. It was off to the balcony with them, if only
because that seemed to be the only place that had seating room on
account of it having patio furniture. Elijah's balcony really was the
best selling point of that particular apartment, even if it did just
have a view of the wall. "C'mon, let's go play."
The girl with
the dreadlocks didn't shave much, but it didn't matter because she had
the sort of bright pixie wire that Jenn had and they both seemed to be
getting along just fine. Tyrel stood up and found himself shoved
outside by his girlfriend, someone who was tall and lean and looked like
a pole vaulter.
Ian
"You should get some shot
glasses," Ian suggested to Elijah with a grin. Then he followed the
others back onto the balcony, slipping past the reluctant Tyrel to take a
seat in one of the patio chairs. Ian slid the chair back a bit when he
sat down, leaning back to look up at sky. The stars were mostly obscured
by smog and city lights, but he could still make out faint pin-points.
When
he sat forward, Ian let his eyes find Jenn. Then the others. Regarding
them thoughtfully. If Tyrel met his gaze, he'd get a brief smile. More
teasing than genuine. (Or daring, maybe.)
Elijah
Tyrel
sat comfortably in his chair, meeting Ian's eyes and giving the man a
brief nod. That upward motion that held together his coolness. He did
smile, brief though it was, though it should come about more often. He
had pretty teeth; bright and white and straight. Elijah took a seat at
the table, lining up shot glasses for his companions. Five in all,
unmatched and from various truck stops from between here and Baton
Rouge.
"Man, why do I gotta be Marilyn Monroe?" Tyrel teased.
"Because you're so dang pretty," Elijah replied with a laugh.
Jenn
and the girl with the dreadlocks sat close together. She gave Ian a
quick look, offered her hand like a professional and smiled bright. She
had a presence to her, something commanding and something that demanded
attention. SHe had the presence of a character in the Vagina Monologues,
"'ey I'm Beth, how do you know Elijah?"
"How does anyone know Elijah?" Tyrel teased.
the
woman took her shot glass and settled back into her chair once
everything was set. Jenn was, by all standards at the table, probably
the most soft spoken of the people there. Content to watch and, instead,
take in what was going on around her. Her lips turned upward and she
didn't say anything for now.
"Okay," Elijah announced, "I've never… been arrested."
Which had Beth giving Elijah the bird and taking her shot, "cheeaaaaap."
Ian
How did he know Elijah?
(How does anyone?)
Ian
reached out to take Beth's hand. "Ian. We met at a club." Which was
true, if a bit lacking in pertinent and salacious detail. Not that Ian
was necessarily coy in that regard, but he didn't know what kind of
relationship Elijah had with his friends. Jenn's little smile wasn't
lost on him, and Ian shot her a knowing look.
Elijah'd never
been arrested. This fact actually surprised Ian a little, not because he
pictured Elijah as being especially criminal in nature, but because
Elijah seemed like the sort of person who did things without really
pondering the consequences. Maybe he was just lucky.
Ian
picked up his shot glass and drained it slowly. He didn't knock it back
the way he might have if Elijah had used the tequila. That would have
been an insult to the fucking Sazerac. And somehow it tasted just as
good, despite being in a glass with an alien on it that said Roswell, NM.
Ian
[Also, Per+Subterfuge on the group as a whole because figuring out who's lying is half the fun of this game]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )
Elijah
The
order went easily enough. Tyrel's turn was next, followed by Beth, then
Jenn, and then finally Ian (if they went in a circle. It would seem the
group did a decent job of gender segregation.) Tyrel took a quick look
around the table, trying to gauge the unknown factors at the table-
namely Ian and Beth. He'd never partied with either of them before.
"I've
never gotten anything pierced below the neck," Tyrel said. Which, of
course, had both tattooed and pierced young ladies taking a drink. Beth
had to stop.
"Dude, 'lijah, we can not shoot this whiskey," she said.
"What? WHy?" he asked.
"Because you can't shoot a whiskey this nice, I'm gonna go grab another bottle so we have a choice," Beth replied.
"Not before your turn," Tyrel reminded her.
"Ugh, okay, fine, I've never… uh… hmmn. I've never eaten Ethiopian food. Now I'm getting the bottle."
Elijah and Jenn took another drink. The little pixie of a woman taking her time with the second drink and giggling.
"Ohhhmigosh, this is so much harder with real liquor."
Ian
Getting
drunk with good whiskey was like a slow burn. It came on slow and
lasted a long time. That was part of why Ian had bought the bottle to
begin with (because he wasn't going to get drunk on cheap tequila.)
Tyrel's turn had Ian sitting back and contemplating the two women with a
curious gaze.
When Beth took her turn, Ian breathed a dry laugh and took a second drink. "I think she's trying to get us drunk."
Because who the fuck hadn't had Ethiopian food? (Apparently Beth.)
Ian
[Stamina!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Elijah
[Jenn - Stamina!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 4) ( fail )
Elijah
[Beth: Stamina]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3) ( fail )
Elijah
[Elijah: stamina?]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (2, 5) ( fail )
Elijah
It was, at that point, Jenn's turn, who's cheeks turned pink as she admitted- "I've never had a three some."
Which had everyone at the table drinking.
Ian
Everyone, including Ian. (Not much of a surprise, there.)
Afterwards,
Ian ran his tongue between his lips and regarded Jenn with a
contemplative expression. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes shone. The
whiskey made everything a little warmer and brighter.
"I've never joined a club."
Which was, in fact, true.
Elijah
[Elijah: drink!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (6, 9) ( success x 2 )
Elijah
Elijah
drained his glass and put it back down. Beth didn't pick up her glass
but Tyrel gave her a look. She looked right back. Tyrel rolled his yes
and took his drink.
"Gotta keep 'I'm honest," Elijah said with a grin.
"What club did you join?" Beth asked casually.
"I was in drama club."
"That suddenly makes sense. Jenn, what about you? Any clubs?" Beth asked.
"No,
track kind of ate my life. That and art class," she said. Her smile was
bright and her cheeks were flushed and she did afford Ian a second
glance.
"Okay! My turn!" Elijah announced, and he had to think
os something that he had done, or hadn't done, that one of these people
surely had to have done. He couldn't say he hadn't eaten Korean food
before, not now anyway, because he'd made it a point to fix that
particular situation, "I've never had a person paint me, and I mean that
as either paint a picture of me or paint on me to be used as an art installation piece."
Ian
[Stamina]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (8, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )
Elijah
[again?]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 6) ( success x 1 )
Ian
"Should I take two drinks if I've done both?"
Ian
grinned broadly as he took his fourth drink, but didn't actually make
any motion toward a fifth. If he took a drink for every instance, he'd
have drunk the entire fucking bottle by now.
"Who painted you?" he asked Jenn, curious.
Elijah
"The entirety of Professor Phillipe's anatomy for art class," she said nonchalantly.
"Ugh, Jenn, you can't pretend like that isn't a big deal," Elijah told her.
"What?"
she said with a little laugh, her cheeks turning a new shade of pink,
"it isn't a big deal, it was part of my work/study program."
"Yeah,
but you're in people's portfolios now. remember the guy that spent a
week staring at your irises for God knows how long because he wanted to
make sure he got the shading right?" Elijah had to poke along, had to
ask, and it was enough to make Jenn laugh.
"It was only, like,
three days, but they paid ten bucks an hour, which was really good for a
university job. The Iris guy's name was Travis Holt, he was going to
try and go submit his stuff in Soho. For some reason, people tended to
fixate on my rib cage, and I have no idea why, my ribs aren't
interesting to shade."
Elijah
Tyrel took a second before saying, "I've never planned an orgy."
Beth swatted Tyrel and took a drink. "Man, fuck you. It's like you follow me on facebook or something."
Ian
"It's not a bad gig if you don't mind sitting still."
Ian was, in fact, very good at sitting still. And he'd done a lot of different things to make money in college.
When
Tyrel's turn came up, Ian shot Beth a look and grinned, but he didn't
make any motion to take a drink. Apparently hosting an orgy was one of
the few sexually-oriented activities he'd never attempted. (And in
truth, it was likely to remain so.) In Ian's universe, sex was something
that tended to just happen naturally.
The way Ian looked at his drink, he almost seemed disappointed. (Or maybe like he'd half-considered lying.)
Elijah
Beth's
turn came up, and she looked at Tyrel in triumph, her eyes alight and
her glass in hand. She looked like a delightful, vengeful goddess at
that knew she was going to have a rare and glorious time.
"I've
never been to France," she announces. Which, of course, had Elijah and
Tyrel both drinking their whiskey and trying to fight back laughter.
Jenn's response, of coure, was much more tame.
"I've never owned a hamster," she said. Which had Tyrel drinking... again.
Elijah
[Elijah stamina]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Elijah
[Tyrel stamina]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 10) ( success x 1 )
Ian
[Subterfuge]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )
Ian
Ian
had, in fact, been to France. He had not, however, owned a hamster. So
it was one more drink for him, and yeah, he felt it now. The flush of
alcohol made his lips red and his eyes glisten. It made him a little
less present. A little less grounded. He leaned back in his chair and
put his foot up on the edge of the seat, draping an arm around his knee.
For a moment, while Elijah and Tyrel fought back laughter, likely over
an inside joke that Ian wasn't privy to, he closed his eyes and rolled
his tongue over his lower lip.
Jenn's turn came and went. And then it was Ian's again. The bottle of Sazerac was almost gone.
"I've never fucked anyone famous."
He
said it with a straight face. But then a beat later, his mouth turned
up in an edgy grin and he reached for his glass to take a drink.
Because see, that. Had been a lie.
Elijah
There is a world full of people. A world full
of people who see things and hear things and get called quacks and
crazies and paranoid. Elijah liked these people, because as one crazy to
another there is a sort of kinship in those who exist on the outskirts
of reason.
He's never fucked anyone famous.
With
that Elijah had to laugh and take a drink, if only because he knows for
certain now that he has, indeed, had illicit relations with a celebrity.
Jenn doesn't drink, but she does take a quick look around to see who
else has been drinking. There wasn't so much quiet as a sort of awe at
those who have done something like touch the untouchable.
These
were normal people. Normal people with normal lives and normal
opportunities. Beth drinks, but for some reason it makes sense that beth
would drink, though she does stop halfway through her shot- something
to be savored and something delicious and warm on her tongue that came
down her throat, "do porn stars count? There's a lot of porn stars, and
it doesn't really take much to be a porn star."
"Aw, Hell, you fucked a porn star?" Tyrel asks.
"Hello, orgy. You kind of fuck whoever shows up, it's part of the fun of massive group sex."
"Yeah, but it's a logistics nightmare," Elijah lamented.
Jenn
looked at Ian, surprised but not surprised. The man was a model, of
course he would have had sex with someone famous, though she had to
clear her throat and try to push the blush off her cheeks, which was
really just the whiskey talking, "I think we may need to define what
famous is. You don't mean… A list celebrity, do you?"
"Yeah," Beth chimed in, "if you do then I'm out on that one."
Ian
It
was a valid question. Fame could be defined in any number of ways. Ian
actually had to contemplate his answer, mulling it over while he
breathed in the lingering scent of whiskey from his now-empty glass. He
could have made the definition stricter. His answer would still be the
same. You meet a lot of people when you're young and beautiful and
living in New York.
Instead he shrugged and said, "Any sort, I suppose."
Because
these people weren't New York fashion models, and this wasn't that kind
of party. And that was half the reason why Ian was here (getting drunk)
in the first place. He glanced at Elijah and tipped his head, smiling.
"Are you counting me, or is that drink for someone more interesting?"
Elijah
"Antoinette Laveau," he announced.
"Huh?" was the collective response from the two non-Louisiana natives.
Elijah grinned and put a hand up, "Antionette Laveau claims to be a direct descendant of Marie Laveau. The
Marie Laveau- Antoinette's a medium, I met her in New Orleans at her
grave site, doesn't look a day over twenty-five… I think at the time she
wasn't twenty-five, anyway. Antionette's a medium, New Orleans is full
of folks sayin' they can talk to the dead but-"
"Antionette's
the real thing," Jenn blurted, then covered her mouth and looked a
little embarrassed to admit that… well… she believe in ghosts and people
talking to them. She, of course, had no idea that her room mate and his
friend were capable of bending reality to their whim, but we digress.
"So,
she's famous in a very small community of people who think she's a
living link to the most famous voodoo queen in New Orleans."
Ian
[Oh, I think that was drink #6 for Ian. Better do that Stamina thing.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )
Elijah
[Elijah, should you drink?]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (3, 8) ( success x 1 )
Ian
Ian,
not being from Louisiana, had no idea who Antionette Laveau was, but it
didn't really matter. The story was still an interesting one. He
smiled, and the balcony lights made his eyes shine like dark glass.
The
bottle of Sazerac was nearly empty. Ian gazed at it for a moment as
though he half-expected it to magically refill itself, but there was no
one present at this party who could do something like that. So he
reached out and picked it up, putting the lip of the bottle to his
mouth, and drained the last mouthful of whiskey. When he was done, he
uncurled from his seat and stood up, leaving the bottle and his empty
shot glass on the table.
"Are they seriously doing karaoke in there?"
Indeed,
the unmistakable echo of off-tone singing had begun to permeate the
air. Ian walked over to the balcony door and leaned a hand against the
frame. He didn't seem off-balance, but then, sometimes with him it could
be hard to tell.
Elijah
"Ooooh, karaoke," Elijah said, like a moth to off-keyflames.
"If it's a party with Daryl, then there is karaoke," Jenn replied.
"Ugh,
no thank you, i'm gonna stay out here," beth replied with a nod. Tyrel
shook his head at the prospect of being forced to go and sing in front
of people.
The French doors were wide open, and with little
fanfare Jenn was leading Elijah back inside, because he was well into
his evening and seemed more than content to touch whomever was available
to touch. In that instance, it was the pixie of a brunette heading for
the door. Elijah stopped by Ian, one arm over Jenn and his other hand at
the small of Ian's back.
"I swear to god, if you sing, you're God's gift to humanity artistically," he said with a grin.
Ian
Unsurprisingly,
karaoke was not a particular hobby of Ian's. Not because he couldn't or
didn't like to sing, but because the last place he usually wanted to be
was in some dive bar with a bunch of drunk townies singing a selection
of the world's most generic pop songs.
Everyone had their scene.
Jenn
helped Elijah through the door, and Elijah put his hand on Ian's back
and told him that he'd be God's gift if he could sing. Ian laughed and
looked over, and on impulse he leaned in and whispered against the
sensitive ridges of Elijah's ear. It recalled a moment on a dance floor a
few weeks earlier when they'd first met.
"You first."
The sound of his voice was like velvet.
Elijah
[can I survive karaoke, -1 because drunk]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Elijah
His
breath caught in his throat and it was something familiar. Something
that made a chill run up his spine and there was a feeling there. There
was something there that went beyond words and promised things that
Elijah Poirot was more than happy to be promised. He inhaled, shot Ian a
cocksure grin and swaggered his happy self inside.
"Somebody
pick me out something-" he said with a laugh, because laughter came
easily, because he was an exhibitionist at heart, and this?
this was a stage, and this was fun.
The music started with a chorus of Oh, won't' you take me home tonight-
"Oh
shit," he said with a laugh, and he waltzed his way back into the song,
making it seem like it was no problem whatsoever that he missed his
entrance or that someone was asking him to sing Queen at that particular
juncture because, well, it was a compliment and this was a party and
you didn't sing the blues at a party.
"Down beside that red fire light- Are those the words-Ohhhhhhhh you gonna let it all hang out, fat bottomed girls you make the rocking' world go 'rooooouuuuund-"
he
starts in with a rendition of Fat Bottom Girls. He had a presence. If
he could make a passable job dancing, then clearly music was a much
stronger suit for him. Something where he could work a crowd, could get
people clapping and he had an undeniable appeal. It didn't hurt, of
course, that Elijah's voice was spot on, that the pitch didn't waver
except when it needed to waver and he was riding that buzz of a lack of
inhibitions and feeling what the crowd wanted.
There was no self, there was just music.
"I was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad
but I knew life before I left my nursery-"
Ian
Ian
hadn't really had any expectations when he'd sent Elijah up there to
sing. He'd meant it as a dare (I'll show you mine if you show me yours.)
And he laughed when Elijah missed his entrance and had to jump in
mid-chorus. But then Elijah started to sing...
...and he was fucking great at it.
Ian
made his way into the living room and stood beside Jenn while they
watched Elijah's performance. The crowd cheered and clapped in time to
the music, and there was Life there (a heartbeat.) A for a few minutes
it was easy to forget that the world was a fucked up place: that Ian
still had dreams about being devoured by corpses; that he'd cut a
possessed man in half a couple of months ago and still didn't know the
guy's name.
Ian didn't think about that shit, because Elijah
was drunk and singing Queen and he was fucking captivating. It was a
silly song. It didn't matter. That was the point.
Ian grinned broadly as he watched, and when the song was over he clapped and uttered a loud whistle of approval.
Elijah
He laughs.
He
dreams of the end of the world and death and the abyss and whatever
lives within those terrible depths. he dreams of horrible things,
listens to the dead, is courting fire with the technocracy and at that
juncture Elijah was just a guy singing karaoke in his living room with
about twenty people looking on with amusement. He put on his own
personal rock show for them, used whatever stage presence he had to make
it something worth watching.
People clapped, he held the
microphone high and triumphant before he took a bow. Elijah even managed
to keep from dropping it or getting and feedback in the one speaker
Daryl managed to bring with him.
Jenn stood close to Ian, not
too close- not assuming familiarity but as close as the scenery could
provide without being awkward. She had her arms clasped in front of her,
held high and eyes on the performance. She has a set of stars behind
one of her ears. Three little ones in a discreet location, probably her
first tattoos. When it was over, Jenn giggled and clapped.
Her
expression was delighted, something that she and Elijah seemed to share
because her eyes were wide and her attention was on the performance. (She
looked at him with fondness, not the romantic kind, but the kind a girl
does reserve for her best friend. She'd give him a kidney if she had
to, but Jenn had no idea what kind of mess he's getting himself into.) Elijah broke through the crowd, past the makeshift stage.
"Apparently, whiskey makes me Freddy Mercury," he announced.
Ian
[Does Ian do a passable job with this singing thing?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 6 ) [WP]
Ian
[Fuck it, let's throw in some dancing while we're at it.]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 2, 5, 5, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 ) Re-rolls: 1
Ian
[Time to change professions Ian. The dice have spoken.]
Ian
"If you can do Bohemian Rhapsody, I'll be really
impressed." Ian grinned. He glanced between Elijah and Jenn, noting
their warmth and familiarity, and almost for a moment he forgot that
he'd said he'd go next (or, well, implied it.) But he had said it,
hadn't he?
There were things in the world that one could be reasonably certain of. The sun rose in the East. Mammals
were warm-blooded. And Ian Lai did not sing karaoke.
Every once in a while, the world was a surprising place.
There
was a lull in the music once Elijah set down the microphone. Ian
grabbed Elijah by the front of his vest and kissed him. "Fuck it," Ian
said with a grin. Then he walked up to the guy playing the music and
said something in his ear. When he grabbed the microphone, he looked
right at Elijah and said, "This is the only time you are ever going to
see this."
Then a-ha's Take On Me started playing.
And
Ian, as it turned out, actually had a fucking fantastic voice. The song
choice hadn't been completely random. There were high notes that
frankly, on another night, he might just as easily have missed. But
tonight he didn't. Tonight he hit every. single. one of them. Because he
hadn't really sung in front of a crowd since college, and let's face it
- if he was going to do it, he might as well go for broke.
"We’re
talking away / I don’t know what I’m to say / I’ll say it anyway /
Today’s another day to find you / Shying away / I’ll be coming for your
love, OK?
"Take on me / Take me on / I’ll be gone / In a day or two..."
He
even danced a little, during the instrumental parts. Nothing serious,
really. Just a bit of 80's throw-back. A section of his hair (he'd been
letting it grow out the past few weeks) fell in front of his eyes and
his lips and cheeks were flushed with the effort it took to hit those
high notes (and probably also from the alcohol) and for a few minutes
there, he actually did look like a fucking pop star.
Then the
song ended, and he laughed, because he actually just fucking did that,
and it occurred to him to hope that none of the other people at the
party knew who he was (or, worse, thought to make a video of it.)
Elijah
[I may or may not be doing magic]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (9) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Elijah
Ian
grabbed Elijah by the front of the vest, and pulled him in and kissed
him. He closed his eyes, rode the moment and tried to open himself up to
the world the want hat Sera had shown him how. The way that Ian had
shown him when he placed his hand over his heart and in a second,
because it took a moment, through will and wanting alone did Elijah feel
the world open up into a blossoming moment of living bodies and beating
hearts and collectively held breath at the performance they were about
to see.
"Je suis un cochonne chanceux," he replied with a grin. Bright and vibrant and alive.
Then a-ha's Take On Me started playing.
And Elijah could not stop himself from laughing, though he didn't laugh for long.
It
was like being transported back to the eighties. It was like being in
the moment where the world stopped and it didn't matter what time it was
or who was there or what was going on because Ian Lai was
fan-fucking-tastic. Ian was beyond fantastic, he was like a slice of a
Molly Ringwald movie and Elijah had a front row seat.
He
didn't know what to do aside from applaud and laugh. Some people at the
party were old enough to remember the time period, or at least big
enough hipsters to catch the reference.
there was a flush on his cheeks and a feeling in his stomach and maybe it was the whiskey talking but-
"That was fucking hot-"
Elijah announced. Even kissed Ian when he came close enough, because he
wanted to, because he wanted to taste whiskey, because this man was
beyond talented and there was a moment where where everyone's heart was
beating loud and fast and people were applauding and talking and
laughing and breathing beating growing drunk on whatever substance they
so chose and there was music in the air. And life was pretty fucking
fantastic.
Ian
[Empathy on Jenn - how ok is she with physical contact right now?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 6, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Ian
Ian didn't actually remember the 80's, because he'd only been a couple of months old when 1990 hit. He hadn't even been born when Take On Me
came out. But he knew the song anyway. Everyone knew that song. That
Ian knew it well enough to remember all the lyrics, while drunk, without
prompting? There were implications there. But Ian was content simply to
let the moment exist as it was without discussion.
That was fucking hot,
Elijah said, and Ian fell easily into the kiss while people around him
laughed and applauded. When he pulled away, he looked at Jenn and, on
impulse, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. This lingering,
affectionate gesture. "We should find somewhere less crowded."
He
said this to both of them, the suggestion casual and open. Not really a
promise so much as a possibility. The lights in the living room were
bright and the voices in the crowd seemed to echo as they bounced off
the walls and ceiling, and soon enough the music started playing again
and the person following Ian (poor guy) had no hope whatsoever of
matching the performance that either Ian or Elijah had just given.
It
was a lot of sensory input to process, but Ian's focus stayed on the
two people nearest him. Their presence was a grounding thing.
Elijah
[odds her room, even's Daryl's place]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (3) ( fail )
Elijah
There
had to be space somewhere, somewhere that they could go that wasn't
going to be full of people, and Jenn, being the tiny bright
slightly-more-sober-now creature that she was, nodded back to the one
closed door in the entirety of the tiny portent. the one room in the
place that Elijah hadn't shown him because, well, that was Jenn's space.
Her
cheeks were a bright and vibrant pink, and her smile was somewhere
between coy and delighted. She tipped her head to the side, closed her
eyes and took in the sensation once it hit her that Ian had kissed her
on the cheek. She wasn't sure what to do, but Elijah took a second to
kiss her on the other cheek. it made her laugh.
"C'mon,
my room's over there," she finally said, and with that the little
brunette headed along her way to lead the men to her boudoir.
The
room was pretty enough, something earthy and full of plants with the
faint hint of rosemary and florals. The bed was full of pillows and
various browns and green fabrics. there was a pottery wheel in the
corner of the room next to her dresser. There was a nightstand on one
die of the bed and a chair on the other. The room was lit up with a
quiet warm glow of fairy lights across the ceiling, hung there like
stars.
Ian
Earthy. That was a good way to describe Jenn's
room. She led the way inside, and once past the door Ian paused to take a
look around, getting a bearing for his new surroundings. His gaze was
appraising (and appreciative.) Normally he wouldn't be so charmed by the
fairy lights, but tonight he was warm and buzzed and the twinkling
lights seemed dreamy and utterly appropriate. The plants were another
welcome addition. Even without his other senses active, their life had a
kind of presence and vibration. The air was different in here than it
had been in the living room. Cleaner.
If Jenn didn't lock the
door, Ian would reach back and do it for her. Then he sat down on the
foot of the mattress and lay back with his arms folded under his head.
It made the edge of his t-shirt hike up to reveal a couple inches of
skin.
For a few beats he just stared at the lights. His pulse
was still elevated from his performance, beating a quickened rhythm
through his veins. His lips parted while breathed.
"I vote we
keep playing that game. Only instead of drinking, we take off our
clothes." His eyes traveled to Elijah, then to Jenn, something raw and
tempting gleaming in the depths. But when he spoke next, his voice was
soft and unassuming. "If you're up for it, that is."
Elijah
Something
about the addition of fairy lights was very much move for Jenn.
Something that makes sense for her. Something that seemed like the kind of
girl who would tattoo irises on herself and ask for stars behind her
ear. She locked the door behind her, standing with a smile on her face
as she plopped herself down on the chair by the bed. Elijah took his
perch by the door.
He observed the two of them, his eyes
wander over Ian's frame, over Jenn's thighs, because he had to observe
the both of them. Had to look over the art in front of him and the
living, breathing, beating hearts of those in the room with him. The
door was locked, and Elijah had to laugh. Had to laugh and take it all
in like this was a treat, a gift, and there was the prospect of playing a
game. The very same game they were playing earlier.
"I think I've got an unfair advantage," Elijah said.
"Not unfair, you've also done more stuff than me, so the fact that I already kind of started out naked? ish? "
"Oh, poor me, near naked Jenn. You can go first."
Jenn took a look at her party members, had to think of something, because she was most assuredly intent on going first.
"I… have never… had sex with someone else watching," she told them.
Elijah, a knowing grin still on his face, discarded his vest.
"She's playing dirty."
Ian
"That's
because she's smart." Ian unfolded his arms and pushed himself up onto
his elbows. Briefly, he glanced at the leather bracelets circling his
wrists. "Although that kind of falls in with the whole threeway thing,
doesn't it?"
Still, he didn't object. And a moment later he
grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. When he fell
back onto the mattress, he tossed the shirt at Jenn playfully.
He'd gone last in the game before. So that made it Elijah's turn.
Elijah
"It's
not my fault you've got exhibitionistic tendencies," Jenn replied
innocently, and while she could feign innocence beautifully, she
couldn't help but laugh. She caught Ian's shirt, holding onto it and
reveling in the fact that the shirt was soft and he had a surprisingly
good taste in fabrics.
Elijah shrugged, not much caring at
that juncture that he was down a vest because, well, there was no way
that he couldn't win in this particular situation. Elijah took a second,
shooting Jenn a grin and he couldn't help himself. If she was going to
play dirty? Well, he was most assuredly going to return the favor.
"'Fine,
Jenn, I've never gone to a final while uproariously high," he
announced. And, with that, Elijah was taking off his shirt as well. The
young woman sighed, though she could only feign woe and the young woman
started to take off her sweatshirt. The young woman found herself
sitting in a neon pink bra. She turned just enough revealing a tattoo of
the red bull and a unicorn across her back. "Okay, Ian, your turn."
Ian
"Only
if we're counting high school." And since high school really only half
counted, Ian kicked off one of his boots and left it at that. He glanced
over while Jenn removed her shirt, and there was a pause while his eyes
hovered over the tattoo.
"As for you and your heart, and
the things you said and didn't say... she will remember them all when
men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits."
His
voice held a soft cadence when he recited the quote. This small piece of
a book that he'd once read to a girl who had the same name as Jenn.
Funny how circular the world could be. Ian closed his eyes for a moment
and rested his palms on his forehead.
"I've never slept with a straight person of the same gender."
He
had to be careful to phrase that one right, considering the mixed
company. But see, then he kicked off his other boot, so clearly that one
was a lie.
Elijah
"Yeah, I don't think you
could be high and dance at the same time, not with the kind of dancing
you do," Elijah said to Ian. He waited for the question, eager to see
where things were going, because they were playing a game
"Molly Grue broke my heart," she confided in Ian,
There
was a fact that Jenn didn't acknowledge, didn't discuss. She wanted
unicorns to be real. Ever so desperately, desperately wanted unicorns to
be real with every fiber of her being, ever aching, wanting inch of her
heart had pined for them, enough that a tale of the last was poignant
enough that she was willing to carry it on her body along with a note
across her collarbone that we may grow in courage, graciousness, and peace.
Something small and subtle, but she'd wanted it. Wished it. Hoped it.
Been heart broken when she found out that she would never, ever see a
unicorn.
It would be the last unicorn in the world that comes to Molly Grue.
Strangely
enough, that one did not get a reaction from Elijah but it did have
Jenn standing up. She looked down and very carefully unbuttoned her
shorts. They were high waisted things, and the question was clear that
maybe she had some other tattoos that her modicum of clothing was
covering, but sure enough she pushed her shorts down and revealed that
she clearly had not planned on having intimate company tonight because
her underwear didn't match. Something lace and tan and nearly blended to
the color of her skin. Elijah rose a brow and she shrugged, "I'm not that boring," Jenn announced, "but I've never gone streaking."
Which
had Elijah starting to take his shoes off. The young man grinned,
shaking his head, perhaps owing to his streak of performance. The young
man had to take them in, and he could be honest enough while trying to
come up with something of a response, some kind of question for whatever
may come next. He did not share Jenn's love of unicorns, but rather,
had bonded and confided once over mermaids. For someone terrified of
water, he had a strange fascination with mermaids.
Ian
Jenn wasn't that boring. (No, Jenn wasn't boring at all.)
Molly Grue broke her heart. Ian didn't say anything to that. He couldn't, really.
But
here, finally, was an experience that Ian and Jenn had shared that
Elijah had not. And Ian, true to form, looked at Elijah and grinned,
teasing and cocksure. His teeth gleamed white (he looked like a tiger.)
That was when Ian's attention drifted back to Jenn, and the grin
softened. He rolled his head back against the bed and watched her,
drumming the fingers of one hand lightly against his chest.
She'd never been streaking. Elijah had. Ian?
Remained still, and waited for Elijah's question.
Elijah
"I've never been on national television."
Ian
Ian laughed. "You fucker." The tone was warm. Playful. And he sat up so that he could pull off both of his socks.
"I've never made a sex tape."
Elijah
"Oh
god dammit-" was Jenn's response. The young woman stood up and, still
in a pair of ballet flats, decided that she may as well get it over with
and take off her bra before she had to lose it for something
interesting.
At first Elijah hadn't noticed that she was
taking her bra off before she was literally throwing it at him. Oddly
enough, he wasn't moving to take his clothes off but the little woman in
the room had covered her breasts with one hand and was busy pelting her
best friend with her bra with the other hand.
"Wait, what?"
"I made a sex tape," Jenn blushed.
"Liiieeees," Elijah laughed as he carefully found himself inspecting her bra before putting it somewhere for safe keeping.
"Why would you not believe me?" she asked.
"Because
you're you. Not that I would not absolutely love to watch you have sex,
or that I don't enjoy the various and sundry things we've done in our
misspent youth but you don't even like putting videos on vine!"
"It was kind of fun," she blushed even harder, "remember Dallas?"
"One Night in the Ferns. Please tell me you called it One Night in the Ferns."
This,
of course, made Jenn laugh hard enough that she dropped her hands to
laugh. She had a lovely body, something athletic but softened by some
time in the off season. Curves where she needed them. Her frame was
perky. "Shut up, Poirot, and ask your question!"
"Fine, fine,
I've never tied someone up before," which was when he got to taking off
his socks because, well, Elijah had to think of something and for some
reason that seemed to be the first thing that came to mind. Maybe he was
lying, maybe he wasn't, but really he just wanted to get rid of his
damned socks. Socks were awful.
Ian
[I am so rolling Per+Subterfuge on both of these guys]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Ian
[Manip+Subterfuge]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 4 )
Ian
Even
with six shots of whiskey in his system, Ian didn't miss much. And
there was a lot to notice between the beats of that conversation, not
least of which being the newly revealed details of Jenn's body. There
was always a turning point in these kinds of games. The moment when
everyone had to decide whether it was a joke or not. Whether they were
just a bunch of friends getting naked for the dare of it. Or something
else.
Elijah called Jenn's sex tape One Night in the Ferns,
and Ian actually cracked up for a moment, because the name was so
patently perfect and ridiculous. The laughter made him seem softer. More human.
Elijah said he'd never tied anyone up,
but then he removed his socks. And Ian shot him a look, both pointed and
amused (because Elijah's words in that moment were truer than his
actions.) But he didn't call him out for it, and he didn't correct Jenn
when she told Elijah that it was his turn (even though it was hers.)
Ian
had about five bracelets on. He also had a belt. Technically, each of
these could be counted as one item of clothing. But they weren't playing
that kind of game. So Ian undid his belt and popped open the button on
his jeans. When he lay back on the mattress, he lifted his hips and slid
the jeans off. The action was probably a little slower than it
absolutely needed to be. Underneath, he had on form-fitted black trunks.
"I've never been tied up."
Elijah
[Are you lying? Per+sub]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Elijah
Elijah
took his time, and he had the unfair advantage at that juncture, having
to remove his shirt along with his vest, but soon enough, Jenn and Ian
weren't the only ones topless. His eyes wandered, over the feminine
curves of his friend's body to the masculine lines of Ian's. There was
something different about the two of them, something that made him
subconsciously bite his lower lip for a second as he watched Ian
disrobe.
His eyes flickered with anticipation to Jenn, soon
enough noting that, in disappointment, such a petite package was not
going to continue unwrapping herself. The question was enough to get
him back to reality, and long enough to realize-
"Hey, Jenn, you skipped yourself," because someone would have noticed.
"I don't think you'll want me to go twice to make up," Jenn smiled, half of a threat and a coy smile on her lips.
"I really, really do," Elijah replied in kind.
"I've never spoken a foreign language in the throes of passion and I've never gotten caught having sex in public."
Ian
Jenn
went twice, and Ian never made it clear which of the statements he was
responding to when he slid out of his remaining piece of clothing. Those
questions had been tailor-designed for Elijah anyway. That Jenn managed
to get Ian naked as well was likely just a bonus.
There
wasn't any attempt at false modesty on his part. He'd been naked in
front of strangers before. And given the fact that Elijah was about to
join him in that state, Jenn would have plenty to look at between them.
"See," Ian grinned. "I told you she's smart."
Elijah
knew that, of course. Likely a lot better than Ian did. Ian glanced at
Jenn long enough to take in her reaction. Then he propped himself up on
his elbows and watched Elijah. Ian had one foot rested on the edge of
the mattress, his leg bent at the knee, while the other hung over the
side. It was a perfect model pose, all languid and feline.
He didn't say anything else. Just cocked his head in a way that seemed to invite Elijah closer.
Elijah
His pants were the first thing to go,
obviously, down past his legs and discarded, soon enough along with
whatever underthings Elijah decided to wear- precisely two turns and two
questions that were pointed and precise and Elijah decided to take a
few steps closer. He took a second to reach his hand for Jenn to beckon
her along with them. She was off there in her chair, all alone but not
lonely and she was more than content to tentatively take Elijah's hand
and follow along with him to the bed.
She didn't say anything
at first, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed and her lips a rather
pleasing tingling shade of pink. She was a watching sort, the type who
was content to take in those around her, and her eyes did linger, dance
across the familiar frame of Elijah to the less familiar but no less
pleasing body of one Ian Lai. The Ian Lai. The very same Ian Lai
who had left her almost speechless for a moment as she took in his toned
thighs and his abdomen and the more intimate details of the masculine
frame.
"C'mon, Jenn, ante up, you were lying last round,"
Elijah teased playfully. His fingertips placed across the lace on her
underthings. She took a stance between the two of them; Elijah pulled
his hand back long enough to let it rest on Ian's thigh.
"I
have no idea what I'm doing," she said with a laugh. Nervous, but
delighted. her hands rested on the tops of her breasts idly, "and I lost
both of my shoes already."
"Don't stress," Elijah said, "shoes aren't really clothing anyway."
Ian
Elijah
placed his hand on Ian's thigh, and Ian let the contact happen,
lowering his eyelids for a moment as he breathed. Jenn stood between
them, not precisely shy but... hesitant, the way people could be when
they were entering into a situation they didn't know how to navigate.
Ian looked up at her with soft eyes and parted lips.
"We don't
have to do anything." His voice was gentle, and his body language was
relaxed and inviting. When he sat up, he let his hand make contact with
the small of her back, tracing upward over the lines of her tattoo. Then
he let his eyes shift to Elijah, and he reached out to pull Elijah in
for a kiss, slow and lingering. Tempting. Promising.
Outside
the locked door, the crowd cheered loudly as someone began to sing a
Beyonce song, and it wasn't exactly the world's most intimate backdrop,
but given the much more immediate distraction of Elijah and Jenn's warm
bodies, it wasn't a difficult thing to tune out.
Elijah
With
their clothes off, it's easy to tell that it's jenn's work that dots
Elijah's ribcage, there's the same care in his work as there is with the
irises on her thigh. And, for that moment, she watches, she takes in
what is there.
Elijah, for his part, is more than willing, but
when has Elijah been anything other than willing? His lips pressed into
Ian's, his heart beats and he is aware, so very aware of every living
moment and he's pressing against him and there is a wanting, a desire to
be connected at that juncture, and a joy in being connected.
Elijah pulled in, and when he took a second to breathe there was a smile
lingering on his lips, an anticipation of whatever was to come.
Jenn
stepped in, careful and less cautious than she was before. There wasn't
so much trepidation as there was curiosity. Her cheeks stayed flushed,
"we don't have to, but I want to," she admits, reaches out
to caress both of their cheeks and revel in the differences between
both men. To take an artist's perspective to their similarities.
Ian
Ian
smiled against Elijah's lips, feeling the light caress of Jenn's
fingers on his cheek. When he pulled away, he looked at her and drew her
in just as he'd done with Elijah, putting both hands to the sides of
her neck and jaw. And he kissed her slowly: this reverent, sensual
gesture. She liked to watch, but Ian... he liked to explore. To touch.
To taste.
He bit her lip gently before he pulled away, then he wet his lips and smiled.
And then?
He
grabbed her hips and pulled her onto the bed with him, sliding back
toward the pillows. There was a glance tossed Elijah's way. A luring
thing (come follow.) Then Ian's lips found their way to Jenn's
throat, and his hand to her stomach, where he trailed lazy circles
around her navel.
Elijah
Nobody would ever believe Jenn if she said this happened.
Nobody
would ever believe her because it felt like a dream, like some fantasy
to keep her going through the work day instead of tattooing the fiftieth
skull she's going to ever have to ink onto someone in a week. Her lips
tasted like chocolate and whiskey, though more chocolate than alcohol,
like some fine dessert and a night cap. She closed her eyes, her
breathing steady like a runner's though she was soon aware that she was
progressing on ward in the race rather quickly. Her lips against Ian's,
she moaned some gentle keening sound. Something wanting, something
desirous. Something pleased.
She gasped in surprise, on her
back and looking over at both men though she didn't have time to think
beyond the sensation of pleasure. It didn't take much to lure Elijah on
to kissing Jenn's neck, up her jawline, to a place right below her
earlobe, right where the stars dared to almost peek out and the sound
she made was sharp, but pleased, a quick inhalation, a reverence in the
sensation. She had no idea that this is almost how Elijah thinks, she
had no idea how much she really had in common with her friend, but we
digress.
Elijah was content to join, content to explore, content to move in tandem with Ian and share the moment.
Ian
[Life 1, practiced]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (3, 4) ( success x 2 )
Ian
Maybe
nobody would believe Jenn if she told them the story, but there was a
crowd of around thirty people outside, many of whom had seen the three
of them go into the room and shut the door. And if the three of them
weren't careful, someone in that crowd might very well hear them. (A
pity Ian wasn't yet capable of shielding sound.) So perhaps Jenn
wouldn't actually have to tell them anything.
Ian wasn't
really thinking about the story he'd have later. He already had stories
like these. But that was the thing about sharing something - it made it
new again.
They all had their reasons for wanting this. Ian's
were perhaps less in the realm of dreams and more that of instinct. He
fell into it with hardly a second thought, because it was easy to fall
into things with Elijah, and easier still when he'd had six shots of
whiskey. So Ian kissed Jenn's neck and breathed in her scent and
listened to her heartbeat, and gradually his awareness of her and
Elijah's patterns grew into a heady, intoxicating thing. Familiar and
new all at once. Ian's mouth left a trail of slow, open-mouthed kisses
down Jenn's throat and across her collar bone, until he found one of her
breasts and traced his fingers over the inside curve. He kissed her
there too, and rasped his tongue over her nipple.
And he
lingered there for a while, because Jenn had fucking amazing breasts.
But eventually Ian shifted, because he wanted to move further down. So
he navigated his way between her legs and tucked his fingers into the
sides of her underwear, pulling them off slowly. He looked up when he
did this, watching Jenn. Watching Elijah kissing her. And when he slid
down, he breathed against Jenn's skin, first at the base of her stomach,
then lower.
She'd feel his tongue on her then, as he pushed her legs apart.
Elijah
There
was something to be said about sharing an experience, about taking that
moment and embracing it for what it was and thriving in those glorious
seconds before the world exploded into joy. Elijah was in the moment,
having a moment and just enjoying the fact that he could, in fact, have
this experience. He was something of an adrenaline junkie, something of a
performer. It was easy to fall into a cycle of wanting and upping the
ante.
There was only one person in the room who could not feel
the heartbeat of creation around them. Only one person who was so stuck
in the mundane that it was a wonder she had yet to open her eyes and
see the universe. Elijah kissed the place where her ear and her jawline
met, more than content to pay such close attentions to the woman on her
back at that juncture. his lips trailed over, pressed against hers and
explored the taste of her mouth.
"Oh, Elijah," she purred.
There
was an issue of sweet timing, he pulled back just in time for Ian's
tongue to caress her body, long enough that they could both hear her
gasp and grasp at the sheets beneath her. Jenn's thighs parted readily,
easily- she's a flexible sort, unafraid of sensation and all concerns of
potential unworthiness discarded for the sensations of right now. Just
in time for that cry of pleasure to come from her lips. To say Ian's
name like it was reverence, "Ian!"
Still, she managed to not be terribly loud, what with the room full of people next door.
Ian
They
were so different, Elijah and Jenn. They smelled different. Tasted
different. The details of their bodies were different (masculine and
feminine.) Jenn's utterance of Ian's name made him close his eyes and
groan softly against her, rolling his tongue over her clit slowly. It
was easy to get lost in the taste and feel of her against his mouth, and
in the sound of her moans when he or Elijah did something she liked.
There was nothing rushed about the way Ian did this. He reveled in the
slick slide of his tongue against her lips. Against her clit. Focused
and drawn-out. Finding the patterns she liked best.
But Ian
couldn't not be aware of Elijah's pattern. Of his pulse beating there,
familiar and wanting. And on impulse suddenly he stopped what he was
doing and crawled up the bed to grab Elijah's face and kiss him hard.
Dizzying, claiming, and leaving traces of Jenn on Elijah's lips when he
pulled away.
Ian left a bite on the side of Elijah's ribcage
before he ducked down to grasp Elijah's cock and slide his lips over it.
This time there was no teasing delay. Ian swallowed and took Elijah
down his throat, and when he came up he looked first at Elijah, then at
Jenn (to see if she was watching.)
And this is how it went for
the next few minutes. Long enough to get Elijah moaning, if he could.
Then Ian pulled away (again) and slid back between Jenn's thighs to
finish what he'd started.
Elijah
That was the
thing about this sensation, it had been part of what had driven Elijah
to learning life, being aware of the living beautiful patterns around
him and the heady wanting in the air. When Ian kissed him, he pushed
back, hard and claiming and pushing back because Elijah always pushed
back, even when he was yielding he was always wanting more, always
dizzying chaos and anticipation. he licked his lips once he could pull
back long enough to catch his breath.
There is always a moment
when he slips, when pleasure takes hold and he can't quite figure out
what to say, how to say it, it starts with Elijah cursing, because he
does curse, because he does breathe that moment of merde! That
moment when words fail him and English is but a fleeting thing. he
curses and Jenn laughs between breaths, between pants because the timing
is exquisite- just long enough to leave her wanting but never a long
enough departure to leave her unsatisfied.
"Je ne peux pas
dire lequel de vous je veux baise premier," Elijah purred, though it
took all his will to keep with a coherent thought.
If Jenn
spoke French, the notion was lost on her at that juncture, because there
was the combination of Ian's tongue playing patterns across her clit
and there was the feeling of Elijah leaving nipping kisses on her neck,
down her collarbone, and his tongue played across her breasts and soon
enough it was too much, it was all too much and her thighs trembled and
her voice took on a plaintive, pleading quality and her hands went
immediately to her mouth to muffle her own rise of pleasure. Desperate,
needy, moving through the throes of passion and bucking her hips against
the man between her thighs. Jenn's hand tensed in Elijah's hair, her
eyes closed tightly as she rode through wave after wave of pleasure. of
ecstasy, and for a moment the world felt bright and the fairy lights
across her ceiling really did feel like stars.
Ian
(I can't tell which of you I want to fuck first.)
They
shared that sentiment, Ian and Elijah. But for a few long, wild beats
all that Ian could process or think about was Jenn. Her muffled moans.
The way she tensed around him. Ian exhaled a shuddering breath and dug
his fingers into her thighs. There'd be marks there the next day.
When
she began to relax and uncoil, Ian pulled away and got down from the
bed. Standing made him feel dizzy, and for just a bare moment he stopped
and put his hand out to touch the bed. It wasn't ungraceful. He didn't
waver. But that he needed to center his gravity at all was indication
enough for someone like him that he wasn't entirely sober. A moment
later he found his wallet in the pocket of his jeans and grabbed a
couple of condoms out of it. As he climbed back on the bed, he tossed
one onto Elijah's chest.
One or the other? Or both at once? There were different ways they could do this.
Ian
slid up against Jenn's side, just as he'd done earlier, and with a hand
on her hip he rolled her toward him and kissed her. He kept kissing her
while he unwrapped the condom and put it on, and then his hand slid
down the length of her thigh and pulled her leg up onto his hip.
He moaned when he slid into her, muffling the sound against her neck.
Elijah
There
was a moment of calm, of anticipation that came, because they all knew
what would be coming next and Jenn, in her glorious moment of afterglow,
was content to bask in the moment. Elijah took the opportunity to catch
the condom tossed to him, to carefully unroll it and put it on while
Jenn rolled over on her side.
She kissed Ian like kissing
meant something, not an idle gesture but something that was to be
savored in its own right. She could still taste herself on his lips, and
the eroticism of it was not lost on her. Her thighs were toned, that of
someone who once upon a time was a runner. She could feel that press
inside of her, the way her stomach tensed and her thoughts became
precise and sharp at that moment. "Oh, god," she blasphemed, lost
in the moment and the sensation. It didn't take her long to adjust
until she could feel a different sort of press.
Elijah had
prepared, of course, had put on the condom, had leaned over to the
nightstand and provided himself with a little extra lubrication and he
pressed against her. Jenn's breathing went ragged for a second, and the
motion was slow. Patient, because Elijah knew he had to be patient for
Jenn, that he couldn't press too quickly or she might say it was too
much too soon and it would seem that the pace was perfect, just enough
that it was all sensation, all ecstasy.
"Ohmigodohmigodohmigodthankyou-" she panted.
There
was a second when Elijah entered her that he had to wait, had to catch
his breath and all he could do was moan. HTere was a moment once he was
completely inside of her that all he could do was hold onto her because
she was so damnably tight and o perfectly beautiful t that juncture. He
leaned forward, just enough that his lips could brush against Ian's
cheek. Jenn wasn't a very tall young woman, one of the downsides of
being a lady of her stature, but she was close enough that she could
practically feel both men's hearts beating and she could tap into their
pulse without the aid of magic.
Ian
Elijah was
careful, and when he started to push in, Ian stopped moving and went
still. He closed his eyes and breathed as Jenn got tighter around him.
As Elijah's length slid against his. Ian was breathing fast. It made him
light-headed.
"Fuck." The word was half-whisper, half-moan.
And
there they were, tangled up, entwined, hearts beating in syncopated
rhythm. Elijah's lips brushed Ian's cheek, and Ian turned his head so
they could kiss properly, closing his eyes and letting his hips roll
just. a little. When he opened his eyes, he settled one of his hands on
Elijah's hip and let the motion of his body flow into that touch.
Pressing just ever so gently when he wanted Elijah to move with him.
And
that was how they kept in sync. And pretty soon, it wasn't at all clear
which one of them was controlling the pace. Maybe it didn't matter.
This wasn't impersonal. They were in this moment with each other just as
much as they were in it with Jenn. Ian kissed them both, one after the
other, and their moans (muffled, stuttered, human, ecstatic) mingled
together with the heat of their breath.
There was music
playing outside the door. People were talking. Laughing. It faded into
the background, like white noise, beneath the sound of their blood.
Ian
and Elijah came at the same time. It happened while Ian was twining his
fingers into Elijah's hair. When they caught each other's eyes (dazed
and blown-out and shimmering in the fairy light) and Ian held the gaze
for a long, drawn-out moment. Then he gasped and shuddered and let go of
Elijah's hair in favor of Jenn's thigh, burying his face against her
neck so that his moans soaked into her skin.
The music came
back gradually, along with a dim awareness of their surroundings, and
Ian pulled out carefully and rolled onto his back.
The ceiling glittered.
He
fell asleep not long after that, tangled up with Jenn or Elijah or
somewhere between both of them. He'd be gone by the time they woke up,
but for a while he let the warmth of their patterns occupy his space,
and when he dreamed he could still hear the sound of their hearts.
