September 23, 2003.09.23.03. - four star food [tristan][warehouse]
(tristan)
(....ow....)
At some point this morning he woke, and early, sleepy conversation was had, last minute goodbyes, affectionate touches between the pauper and his king before the latter took his leave and the former fell into a deep sleep once more, knowing that he has hours yet before he will be disturbed.
This time, he doesn't take full advantage of that. A couple more hours sleep (recovery time) and aching muscles are forced into movement again after the grumbling of empty belly gathers attention of always hungry kin. It took some time, but he managed to get lanky form into the shower, muscles complaining in umpteen million different little ways, muscles that he forgets he has between evenings with the King, muscles that haven't been so delightfully, thoroughly abused since Diego left, and perhaps not since he last saw his Georgia boy..... maybe even further back then that - if he could remember that far.The scalding spill of hot water did wonders to loosen up some of the ache, but he's still walking carefully as he gathers his clothing, and slips them on while waiting for room service. Enough for 4, with to-go cartons as well. He knows that the King won't mind, as he's put the kin up for days before, and seems to have no bottom to those ever full moneybags of his. Half of breakfast is scarfed down when it arrives, eating like there's no tomorrow - eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, fruit, juice and milk - and the other half is carefully boxed up and added to a bag for easy carrying.
Somehow, slowly, again.... he makes his way from the room - one more check to be sure he has everything (himself, the clothes on his back, violin and food. Yup. Got it all..) and he leaves the key at the desk, and knowing full well he won't survive the walk just yet, he hails a cab, and spends hard earned cash to get him home. The cab waits while he goes inside, grabbing battered backpack and shoving a couple changes of clothes inside, before he's making his way (oh yes, still slowly) to the cab again, and address near the warehouse is given.Dropped off a couple blocks away, cab paid for, pack slung over shoulder, violin case in hand, and rapidly cooling breakfast in the other, and he finally makes his way back to the warehouse to face the wrath of 'daddy' for being out all night. But at least he called! Right? The thought brings a soft chuckle to his lips as he leans a shoulder against the (never. ever. oiled) door and raps knuckles against the aged wood, hoping James is awake enough to hear him and let him in.
(james)
he had... just... resituated himself beneath the heavy comforter
somehow finding his way back into the dream that had her home instead of her scent lingering on his sheets
the cellphone and disturbing phone call forgotten
something else chirps up
it's not the knocking
that's not loud enough to really carry all the way to his room in the warehouse
it's all the little alarms and whatnottery that Erik had Livingston install
those are the things that whisper and itch and tug and pull and outright scream at the Gnawer to wake upbare feet stumble across the living room upstairs
they find their way downstairs and through the maze of traps
and soon enough the door swings open on a squeal of hingesrevealing: one bed-tusseled Bone Gnawer
seems he did not take the time to freshen up as the kin had
hands scrub across his face, dark eyes squinting at the offensive glare of the sun
beneath it all is a lopsided, half-awake grin
he'd insert a comment about alleycats or cats dragging in about... here
but fingers rake through dreads
and that's about it for his commentary
simply turning to head back inside and towards the building within a building
BDUs hanging low and wrinkled on his hips
dark scars crisscrossed by the zebra shadows coming in the unboarded windowsanswering the door at the condo is far less effort
(tristan)
The door squeels open and reveals one bed-tussled Bone Gnawer, and the kin grins sheepishly. "Mornin sunshine. I brought breakfast." Something of an apology, perhaps for waking him up just to open the door, but at the condo - well, it would have been far less effort, far less dangerous, and since as far as the Kin knows the only way into the warehouse is by waking the Gnawer... Well.James turns, and its a slow concentration of muscles flexing and stretching that manage to pull the kin upright again, moan bit back before it is fully realized, the wince hidden by duck of head as he follows through the maxe toward the building within the building.
oh. fucking. hell.
Stairs.bag with breakfast slipped into other hand along with violin to allow arm to help pull himself up the stairs with help of fortunately secured railing. The boys been put through the (oh so delightful) ringer in the past few hours, that much is more then obvious... but not so much that those low-slung bdu's don't get an appreciative glance as he follows his friend.
(james)
"S' who fucked you six way' fr'm Sunday?"the good-natured tease offered as a good morning just before one Ahroun hits the mattress
oh yeh, right past the living room, right past the chairs and couch - right back to freakin' bed
unlike Tristan who was simply worn out, James drove himself to exhaustion so he'd quit thinking and sleep
lanky Ahroun rolls onto his side, curling around pillows, glancing up at the kin through a tangle of dreads he doesn't bother to brush away
(so he's hiding the twinge of jealousy in deep umber)
his bed's big enough for two, so there's plenty of room for Tris to have a seat
(not to mention, it's a lot more forgiving than the damned seats outside)
(tristan)
Violin finds way to some safe corner where stumbling won't find it and do any damage, pack dropped without ceremony next to it, and he near collapses on the bed next to James. A bed big enough for two - and far more forgiving. (thank gaia for small favors)..The comment gets a boyish (sheepish) grin and brow cocked slightly as he reaches to brush dreds from those eyes in lingering caress, verifying what's heard and hopfully hidden before admitting as he places the bag with to-go cartens in it in front of the kin and attempts to cordinate muscles into unlacing his boots.
he's on his friends bed, by invitation - damn straight (HA!) he's not gonna do somethin stupid like (ahem) mess the sheets. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm not exactly sure?" chuckled, sheepishly. nothing to be jealous of there. Just a random guy, right? "Don't even know his name - but it was the third time he's picked me up. I usually hide out in the hotel where he spoils me for a couple days afterwards..." but he didn't want to worry his friend. unsaid, but there...
(james)
a brow lifts, accompanied by a low chuckle"Sounds too good to be true...."
not to downplay the situation - Gnawers are simply realists
eyes had closed when dreads were brushed away
excuse found in burying himself in the pillow's embrace
(it's Rune's... her bed next door lays naked without it)
there shouldn't be any jealousy, for any reason
but he couldn't help it's breif appearence
just to have that comfort, that release... that disconnection for a little while
Tris did, after all, leave the supposed luxury just to check-in
an appearence made, instead of simply calling
he appreciates that
it's writ in the partial smile etched on hard features"Should've stay' 'n soak it up 'gain...."
(tristan)
"and deprive you of 4-star hotel food? not on your life." Winked as boots are kicked off, and lean form all but collapses back into the softness of the bed, the moan falling unchecked this time before he reaches to ruffle dreds playfully. He knows who's pillow it must be, and the jealousy that's there... and he just. knows. He's family.He shakes his head and stretches in a careful exploration to find some comfortable position, finally does, and grabs a spare pillow (James, never Runes) to shove under his head. "Sides, he always leaves in the morning after I wake the first time. Figure I could recouperate here just as easily." A wink, then a softly admitted.. "Sides, I felt guilty"
(james)
a brow certainly lifts at the mention of the food
(now, to actually have to point. it. out. to the Ahroun)
one eye slowly cracks open
and he finally reaches over to drag the bag a little closer
four stars? he's gotta see this to believe it
first whif outta the unrolled top of the bag........ fuck reheating.
the Garou all but straps the bag on like a feeder
pausing only long enough to twist to sit up
his back leaning against the wall
even if he's sure Tristan stuffed himself before leaving
the offers during the time he takes to actually chew are habitual
seems it took a bit to sink in"... guil'y?"
after muscles negotiate a swallow
the Ahroun seems rather confused(tristan)
He chuckles, softly. He didn't miss the need to point it out, but that's gone with the obvious enjoyment of the food brought home. The Gnawer sits up against the back, and hand falls to rest along his friends leg, shaking head for the food. "M'stuffed. only brought you half."
the grin returns, and he chuckles slightly... "Course. Promised to stick close to you as long as you needed then off I run into 4-star hotel spoiling for hours in some self-indulgent fantasy oh my god, James the way he moves....." a long low whistle, before a sheepish grin, and a clearing of his throat... "Anyway. not very fair of me to lounge around with people waiting on me hand and foot with you left here to the horrors of your own cooking...."(james)
the Ahroun grunts, scoffing a mocking smile"Cookin' is'n' horrible...." smirked "'m perfec'ly able t' order'a pizza." stated in matter-of-fact tease "Jaw fuck' up, not 'ands."
though... he's actually a better cook than expected
given the few and far between occasions he's cooked for those other than himself
the food's gone, already, and the Garou settles back against the wall once more
casting a less than playful look at his kin
it's more one of.... studying"Really like'im, don'cha?"
(tristan)
"Yeah, long as there's nuff alcohol, you're a damn fine cook..." Slight flinch, chuckled, as the empty remnants of the meal - that being just all but licked clean containers - is tossed aside. "Tween the two of us we do allright - one to order the pizza, the other to order desert, no problems." grinned...before he flushes under that studying look, and eyes close (and he's right there, just behind his lids, with his silken words and his confident touch and his overpowering presense that brings a slow grin... the rage... something so pure....) for a moment before nodding, slightly. "Yeah."
that's all, for a moment, before the smile fades, and the crease of his brow returns, furrowed in confusion, in mixed up emotion... "He's garou... Fianna... and so. fucking. pure.... and he wants me... even if it's to warm his bed.. it's me he wants there. He doesn't ask my name, so I don't ask his... he tells me to forget what he is... and he forgets the same, and we're just... it's just the two of us in blankets and sheets that are softer then anything I've ever known and while I'm there... with him... it doesn't..."
a pause.
then barely audible."...it doesn't hurt so fucking bad...."
(james)
there is a breif amusement at another purebred Fianna
(that is also tucked away knowing their last issues with said Tribe)
but.... it fades. quickly.
it's not judgement that causes his gaze to drop away
for lashes to fall and tangle and hide deep umber
the smile is soft, fond, and heartbreakingly sad
because it's knowing
the Ahroun, the Warrior, is silent for a long time
fingers twist in the scent-retaining down beside his hip
it's pulled into his lap, fists burrowing into the folds of the black case
dark eyes just gaze at restless extremeties finding something to do
before he simply sighs"She c'n make all th' hur' stop. C'mple'ely" murmured, before eyes finally lift in glance "Know what it like. Don' blame yeh bein' late." the laughter is softly wry, teasing even in the sadness "Jus'..... be caref'l, uh?"
the last encompasses so very much
he knows Tristan is careful
he just couldn't bear to lose what the Fenrir so recently did(tristan)
He knows. god how he knows. Diego did that for him, too... but then to disappear, and knowing what he knows about the former pack, his brothers, the things they'd done and vowed to do again if he were ever found...
James as the benefit of a totem that even though she's gone - he knows she is alive.
The kin has no such thing.
Fortunately, he has James, and it's clear that the Gnawer, the warrior Ahroun who gave him the first feeling of friendship in years is the only reason he stayed, the only reason he came backthe one reason he came home.
His smile is heartbreakingly sad, and it wrenches deeply within the kin, and crunch of abs punctuated by a "holychrist" and sheepish grin he avoids soiling the scents lingering in that pillow, but his head finds room on James' thigh, curling close with a softly teased "yes, pa." in return.
he knows why, he aches with the same loss and he's doing his best to be careful... "I... god. I loose all my sense when he's around it seems. I need someone to meet him at some point, and make sure that... well. that I'm not completely senseless and stupid...." he trails off, but it's clear that he wants no repeat of carmen, and he doesn't want to hurt James in any, any way.... he couldn't bare that... he cuoldn't bare to see betrayal in his family's eyes...
(james)
there's..... a soft laugh at the informal title
fingers brush through Tristan's unrly curls
most would read something into the absent touches
(and maybe, months ago, there would have been)
but between the two Gnawers it's nothing more than familial bondingthey don't know exactly what happened to Carmen
just that she was stolen away because nobody was aware enough
this mystery guy of Tristan's could be the Wrym itself - or just what he seems
it wouldn't be the first time Garou have put aside rank and tribe for attraction
.... or even love
look at him and the serpentwolf Beta
it's just that, though, he's a Gnawer
and such things are always too good to be true or last"Don' wan'a see yeh heart broken, 'gain, eith'r...."
(tristan)
Months ago, when they first met, there may have been more read into the touches, but ever since then it's been nothing but affection, bonding, just... connecting. Eyes close under the slide of fingers through curls, and his mind meanders down the same paths that his friends' do... the not knowing is the worst, whether it be a lover missing, or what happened to a helpless little girl.He's aware enough to know that he could so easily throw everything away for something, unknowingly hurting those he loves because the happiness shared in the few hours spent lost in each others arms is just. that. good. So he askes for help... because he is a Gnawer, and it's far too good to be true. "....and I'd rather suffer a broken heart, then a shattered friendship." simple, really. Someone finds something on the fianna and it's clear whose side he'll remain on - no matter how much it hurts... Family first. (...please don't let there be anything wrong...)
(james)
the nod is willing.... and resigned
he knows what it's like to hope for something and find elsewise
but this may just be the resultant paranoia haunting them"'ll see what c'n be foun'..." there's a pause, and a soft chuckle, the Ahroun twisting to lay back down in some strange glyph formed by their ragtag styles on the dark sheets and comforter by contortion of body for comfort "Thou'...." another pause, a soft tug on a lock of curling hair ".... gun' need more'n that 'e's good'n bed."
(tristan)
The Ahroun twists and lays down and he can't help but chuckle softly after the tug on curls, blushing brightly even as he nudges the thigh under his head... "that's really. fucking. good. in bed." grinned, though the blush is spreading till he's near burning with the memory of touch over skin... a few moments pass as he tries to put it all into some cohesive description without sounding like a lovesick teenager...even if that's just about exactly what he is....
A clearing of his throat, slight, to push back memory into a cohesive whole... "Fianna.. high ranking, but not sure how high exactly? Purebred... by the way his rage feels and the way he talks I'd guess Ragabash, but might be a songster instead...." a pause, again, fingers sliding over battered bdu's in lingering absent caress... "dark hair, spills just over his shoulders... shorter then me, 5'11" maybe? maybe 6 foot even... though he's worse then decker when it comes to never, ever looking up at someone - he holds himself as if he's king of the world, know what I mean? Dark dark eyes.. almost black, enough to drown in, only seen him in bed without sunglasses... expensive tastes, clothes are silk or equally expensive, imported cigarettes, nothing les then 4 or 5 star hotels, spends money like it's going out of style, I called from his cell phone, which he couldn't find when he left, but said he'd just pick up another one, no problem..."
He trails off, chuckling softly... "He is the King, and I am the pauper... he loves music, I play for him between rounds until I can no longer lift my arms, and then he'd hold the Violin for me if he could I think... and I sound like a stupid teenaged idiot I know...." grinned with a glance...
[pause]
Posted by james at September 23, 2003 12:00 AM
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