[ the only time sebastian gets any less handsy is when he has something contagious, because even after several years of cohabitation he remains one of those naive fools who thinks they can prevent germ sharing if they're just careful. then zetes catches whatever it is anyway and they're obliged to cuddle diseasedly after all, but the point is that now, at this moment where no one is suffering any malady except lovesickness, there's no reason not to cup the side of zetes' face, thumb skimming sharp jaw as he continues to fail not to smile. ]
Listen, buddy. We can't all surf the serendipity highway around here, so--lucky, creepy, potato-tomato.
[ because those are obviously the same thing?? especially since sebastian says all of them in the same tonality, namely one that implies "i am so full of love i might just up and die."
he considers the possibility that the documentation that allows him to have a weapon on his person without declaring its existence might have been in with a pattern for knitted underwear because zete was trying to figure out how sebastian might keep said weapon in said underwear, and then promptly decides he's done considering that, oh god. instead he drops the hand from zetes' face to tug the chain around his neck, just to underscore the "lucky" point, then plucks his permit away to be stored safely on the desk, ashtray serving as a paperweight. he'll file it properly in some time that is like, later to this one. apparently he's given up on not being festooned in errant water drops, especially since it means probably a warm shower or warm curling up in bed later. ]
Okay, enough. I'm rescuing this before it ends up with a betamax tape about how to make your own chainmail or something. Did they have biscotti?
[ breakfast! not even sebastian can be grumpy about breakfast. ]
[ sometimes sebastian does this remarkable thing and makes zetes forget everything that he might have been about to say, and zetes just kind of... revels in that, lip caught between his teeth and eyes a little starry over that ridiculously lovestruck tone. eventually, he manages to make a hmph sound that seems to communicate sebastian is free to make his own decisions about potatoes and tomatoes. zetes is content to stare at him while he discusses word choice or pronunciation or whatever this is.
content to a point, at least, because he can't really sit there doing nothing when sebastian hooks his fingers around zetes' necklace. he takes it as an invitation to kiss him again, soft and just left of center, while the four leaf clover pendant dangles between them. he sighs against sebastian's mouth and draws back as the permit is swiped. it's probably best to let sebastian cart it off to his immaculate side of the office for safe keeping. ]
I have no idea what a betamax tape is but you shouldn't talk smack about chainmail. I for one would be appreciative of a handmade tunic of chainmail. Great for knife fights.
[ is that a hint of some kind? maybe. ]
Also, yes, they had biscotti. A whole box of 'em. [ to go with zetes' whole box of donut holes because they are an adorable couple. also let it be noted that even if they didn't have biscotti at the usual spot, zetes would have walked to the next closest joint as he has in the past. and then the next closest joint to that one and so on and so forth until he found the goods. not that zetes has let sebastian in on that little secret. he'd probably find something about it to fuss over.
zetes rubs idly at the soft skin behind sebastian's ear with his thumb and then smiles conspiratorially. ] I feel like you should carry me. [ you were thinking the same thing, weren't you, seb. ]
[ sebastian, who has developed his own brand of trolling in their time together, responds to this by slinging an arm under zetes' thighs and then just .....standing up, all in one motion. is this a slightly risky move for as hulk-smash-sexy as it is? possibly! except no, because sebastian would break his own legs before trying this without being three hundred percent positive zetes was safe and secure and in zero danger of ending up on the floor.
so, okay, he is just going to carry zetes to where the breakfast food lives, still smiling grossly. he doesn't actually understand what made his dearest darling get all soft-eyed, but he's not going to look a gift love in the mouth!! ]
If you're planning to make knife fights a thing, I want them scheduled so I can be there.
[ of course sebastian has been in knife fights. why wouldn't he have, that's totally an experience normal people have multiples of!! despite the sternness in his voice, however, he's m...ostly kidding, and has other priorities regardless. namely grab those as they sweep by the boxes, because his end destination is carrying them upstairs. where he deposits zetes carefully on his feet in their kitchen, so plates and such can be had; he's definitely going to let them eat in bed, but he's not a barbarian, thank you.
in conclusion: no, never tell him about far-reaching biscotti hunts; he would immediately get fussy about zetes making extra effort to track down his particulars. ]
[ zetes seems completely unperturbed by sebastian's methods, doing little more than chuckling and better securing the arm he has slung around sebastian's neck when he's lifted into the air. they've done this enough times before that zetes has every confidence he'll only be set down when he wants to be. he's half-tempted to ask sebastian to retrieve the hat he so rudely relegated to the floor, but for the sake of remaining safely in sebastian's arms and breakfast, he decides he'll just have to return for his fallen brother later.
they make it to the front desk and zetes sweeps his mess of spilled donuts into the biscotti box in what might be a final screw you to organization. ]
Knife fights aren't usually scheduled. [ he will say thoughtfully on the stairs, cradling their box of breakfast with great care. ] You're thinking of like, rumbles or something. Though, those could also include knives, so. Point.
[ he takes to the task of retrieving plates as soon as his feet are on the ground again, arranging their breakfast on chipped ceramic before reaching for two matching mugs covered in turtles with umbrellas. if you guessed zetes is generally in charge of buying dishware, you'd be right. the turtle mugs are filled with what is probably lukewarm coffee at this point and then zetes hands over sebastian's version of the most important meal of the day. ]
No crumbs in the sheets. [ he says before sebastian can say it to him!!! here he takes a meaningful sip. ]
[ sebastian gives him a look that would mean thanks, smartass shot at anyone else, and technically ........ does still mean that at the moment, but it's simultaneously so fond the former is pretty much meaningless. ]
That's how you get ants.
[ deadpan. definitely serious, definitely also quoting archer, but serious!!!!! no one wants ants. he takes a much larger, though equally meaningful not-sip, because sebastian is one of those people who really doesn't care what his coffee tastes like as long as it contains caffeine, and therefore just slugs most of it down at a draught before taking his plate into their bedroom. which narrative assumes must be the loveliest, most soothing cave in the entire world. especially the funshine lamp sebastian can't help but eye bemusedly every time he enters the room, despite how long it's been there, and the fact that he bought it.
he was already more or less dressed for the day in black jeans and somehow even blacker sweater, so for the moment he sprawls out on top of the covers rather than burrow into the bed, though he suspects that will change once he has a zetes to tuck in with. ]
Reasonable people schedule their knife fights - [ he calls out, somewhat belatedly, to wherever zetes is ] - though. Reasonable people probably don't have those, so now we're tied.
[ zetes tamps down a smile so he can nod solemnly. ]
That's how you get ants. [ he echoes, just as serious. ants are terrible and have no place in their cave of joy and relaxation and loveliness. which is why zetes elects to search their cupboards for a neat stack of coffee bean printed napkins while sebastian sets off in the direction of their bedroom with half his coffee gone already. ]
Tell you what. [ zetes says when he wanders into the bedroom a few seconds later, moving around to his side of the bed to set down his breakfast on his nightstand next to said funshine lamp. ] I promise not to cut anyone unless you're close by, whether my knife fight was scheduled or came about organically.
[ he moves to the closet as he strips off his still damp windbreaker, hanging it on the doorknob rather than shoving it in amongst their dry clothes. he kicks off leather boots and deposits pizza-patterned socks onto the floor, then returns to the bed in just black jeans and grey t-shirt, prepared to leave the task of keeping him warm to the elaborate combination of blankets they've amassed. and sebastian. always sebastian.
once he's situated himself—legs under the covers, shoulder brushing sebastian's—he'll take a bite of maple glazed goodness and offer: ] You don't have to worry. I'm sure I could handle myself anyway.
[ sebastian has his doubts zetes could stab another human being to save his own life, but that's not the correct response, so instead he just shifts around to shuck out of his own socks, along with sweater and jeans, and shimmies down under the covers in boxer-briefs and t-shirt. both of which are ....also black, so nothing of value has been lost. he slings one arm over zetes' shoulders and stretches out with the other to dip a piece of biscotti in his coffee - which narrative has decided is more interesting if it's mostly milk, so disregard that previous thing about drinking it black, dum dee doo early character formation lala - letting it suck up all the liquid possible before chewing thoughtfully, both literally and then figuratively chewing over this hypothetically knife-themed rumble. ]
Sure, but what else do you keep the Jolly Green Glower around for?
[ he is. obviously referring to himself; he knows what he is. in fact he takes no small amount of pride in his complete lack of personability, which is uh, great, i guess????? meanwhile apparently he has recanted the idea that he should keep his thoughts about zetes' capability in a knife fight to himself, speaking of knowing what he is: ]
If you had to cut a bitch [ said with a completely straight face, somehow ] you'd just get sad, and then I'd be sad, and the Cat would be sad, we'd all have to share a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and you know dairy gives her the worst kind of shits.
Not that there's a less worst kind.
[ crunch crunch crunch. thoughtfully. ]
's better for everyone if I do any stabbing that needs doing, right?
[ perhaps no one but zetes could pick out in all of that sebastian's actual meaning, which is that he is pure and lovely and sebastian would stab like, eighty people if it meant he got to stay that way. now shut up, he's just going to eat another biscotti with his head mushed in zetes' shoulder. cronch, cronch. ]
A lot of things, actually. His shoulder is the perfect headrest, for one. [ zetes says as he instinctively melts into sebastian's side once that arm settles around him, doing his very best to provide proof for this testimony when he leans back and makes himself comfortable. sebastian may appear to be made of angles and legs and sharp-edged exasperation, but thankfully zetes has known him long enough to discover all his softer spots, one such spot being his thigh, which zetes rests a hand on and pats affectionately. when he breathes in, all he can smell is sugary maple and smoke. ]
And okay, I see your point. But to be fair, I think Ben and Jerry's is worth the worst kind of shits. Lady Catherine would agree. [ or at least zetes assumes she would agree. why would she turn down food, really?
zetes reaches for another donut hole, also taking a moment to chew thoughtfully, tongue making quick work of any glaze left on his lips. it's true zetes doesn't have much affection for fighting, knives or no. he can do it with an agile efficiency, has been trained to do it for the sake of all those lives they were looking out for on the police force (and are still looking out for now, let's be fair), but it's never left anything but a bad ache in his chest. to make light of it all is easier, but it doesn't change the facts.
the thought of sebastian fighting isn't much better, but there's an undeniable comfort in the implicit message here. ]
Right. [ he traces a finger over the bare skin under his hand, drawing a smiley face that sebastian may or may not recognize as such. ] But let's avoid stabbing if at all possible.
[ he tilts his head to smile up at sebastian, the curve of his mouth subtle but warm. it's one of those you have to stay safe out there because i can't live without you kind of smiles. after a moment of meaningful gazing, he pops the other half of his donut hole in his mouth and then holds up one of his sugar-coated fingers. ]
[ this is the problem with letting men date each other, by the way; they are first in line to consider "the worst kind of shits" appropriate breakfast conversation. fortunately for the sake of this thread retaining like, a single iota of class, sebastian loses interest in any such repartee while zetes muses, mostly because look, he is only human, and furthermore a human very fond of that tongue.
mostly.
the rest of what occupies him is that in quiet like this, when it's just them, sebastian knows zetes well enough to pick up even the smallest emotional nuances like notes in the complexity of really good wine, so while of course doing something dramatically sardonic with his sardonically dramatic eyebrows, he kisses the pads of sugar-coated fingers before actually, you know, sucking them between his lips up to the first knuckle. you see, zetes: he's not going anywhere! allow him to demonstrate with more suggestivity, as well as a level of doe-eyed softness absolutely no one else would believe sebastian actually possesses.
another little fingerprint kiss, for good measure, then sebastian considers giving zetes his hand back and decides against it, knotting their fingers together instead and resting them loosely on his own thigh, since zetes seems so interested in them. ( them being sebastian's thighs, naturally; being interested in them is only sensible. ) ]
What's "if at all possible"? What if they shortchange me at Yankee Candle, is that a stabbing offense?
[ the odds that sebastian has ever been in a yankee candle shop are zero. ]
You're delicious, by the way. [ which is to say nothing about the donut holes, ha ha. they were also delicious, but sebastian has priorities, and they are thoroughly banishing from zetes' chest even the tiniest ache. ]
Edited (wow i don't know what the hell happened to that last sentence??????) 2017-11-20 01:40 (UTC)
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no subject
Listen, buddy. We can't all surf the serendipity highway around here, so--lucky, creepy, potato-tomato.
[ because those are obviously the same thing?? especially since sebastian says all of them in the same tonality, namely one that implies "i am so full of love i might just up and die."
he considers the possibility that the documentation that allows him to have a weapon on his person without declaring its existence might have been in with a pattern for knitted underwear because zete was trying to figure out how sebastian might keep said weapon in said underwear, and then promptly decides he's done considering that, oh god. instead he drops the hand from zetes' face to tug the chain around his neck, just to underscore the "lucky" point, then plucks his permit away to be stored safely on the desk, ashtray serving as a paperweight. he'll file it properly in some time that is like, later to this one. apparently he's given up on not being festooned in errant water drops, especially since it means probably a warm shower or warm curling up in bed later. ]
Okay, enough. I'm rescuing this before it ends up with a betamax tape about how to make your own chainmail or something. Did they have biscotti?
[ breakfast! not even sebastian can be grumpy about breakfast. ]
no subject
content to a point, at least, because he can't really sit there doing nothing when sebastian hooks his fingers around zetes' necklace. he takes it as an invitation to kiss him again, soft and just left of center, while the four leaf clover pendant dangles between them. he sighs against sebastian's mouth and draws back as the permit is swiped. it's probably best to let sebastian cart it off to his immaculate side of the office for safe keeping. ]
I have no idea what a betamax tape is but you shouldn't talk smack about chainmail. I for one would be appreciative of a handmade tunic of chainmail. Great for knife fights.
[ is that a hint of some kind? maybe. ]
Also, yes, they had biscotti. A whole box of 'em. [ to go with zetes' whole box of donut holes because they are an adorable couple. also let it be noted that even if they didn't have biscotti at the usual spot, zetes would have walked to the next closest joint as he has in the past. and then the next closest joint to that one and so on and so forth until he found the goods. not that zetes has let sebastian in on that little secret. he'd probably find something about it to fuss over.
zetes rubs idly at the soft skin behind sebastian's ear with his thumb and then smiles conspiratorially. ] I feel like you should carry me. [ you were thinking the same thing, weren't you, seb. ]
no subject
so, okay, he is just going to carry zetes to where the breakfast food lives, still smiling grossly. he doesn't actually understand what made his dearest darling get all soft-eyed, but he's not going to look a gift love in the mouth!! ]
If you're planning to make knife fights a thing, I want them scheduled so I can be there.
[ of course sebastian has been in knife fights. why wouldn't he have, that's totally an experience normal people have multiples of!! despite the sternness in his voice, however, he's m...ostly kidding, and has other priorities regardless. namely grab those as they sweep by the boxes, because his end destination is carrying them upstairs. where he deposits zetes carefully on his feet in their kitchen, so plates and such can be had; he's definitely going to let them eat in bed, but he's not a barbarian, thank you.
in conclusion: no, never tell him about far-reaching biscotti hunts; he would immediately get fussy about zetes making extra effort to track down his particulars. ]
no subject
they make it to the front desk and zetes sweeps his mess of spilled donuts into the biscotti box in what might be a final screw you to organization. ]
Knife fights aren't usually scheduled. [ he will say thoughtfully on the stairs, cradling their box of breakfast with great care. ] You're thinking of like, rumbles or something. Though, those could also include knives, so. Point.
[ he takes to the task of retrieving plates as soon as his feet are on the ground again, arranging their breakfast on chipped ceramic before reaching for two matching mugs covered in turtles with umbrellas. if you guessed zetes is generally in charge of buying dishware, you'd be right. the turtle mugs are filled with what is probably lukewarm coffee at this point and then zetes hands over sebastian's version of the most important meal of the day. ]
No crumbs in the sheets. [ he says before sebastian can say it to him!!! here he takes a meaningful sip. ]
no subject
That's how you get ants.
[ deadpan. definitely serious, definitely also quoting archer, but serious!!!!! no one wants ants. he takes a much larger, though equally meaningful not-sip, because sebastian is one of those people who really doesn't care what his coffee tastes like as long as it contains caffeine, and therefore just slugs most of it down at a draught before taking his plate into their bedroom. which narrative assumes must be the loveliest, most soothing cave in the entire world. especially the funshine lamp sebastian can't help but eye bemusedly every time he enters the room, despite how long it's been there, and the fact that he bought it.
he was already more or less dressed for the day in black jeans and somehow even blacker sweater, so for the moment he sprawls out on top of the covers rather than burrow into the bed, though he suspects that will change once he has a zetes to tuck in with. ]
Reasonable people schedule their knife fights - [ he calls out, somewhat belatedly, to wherever zetes is ] - though. Reasonable people probably don't have those, so now we're tied.
no subject
That's how you get ants. [ he echoes, just as serious. ants are terrible and have no place in their cave of joy and relaxation and loveliness. which is why zetes elects to search their cupboards for a neat stack of coffee bean printed napkins while sebastian sets off in the direction of their bedroom with half his coffee gone already. ]
Tell you what. [ zetes says when he wanders into the bedroom a few seconds later, moving around to his side of the bed to set down his breakfast on his nightstand next to said funshine lamp. ] I promise not to cut anyone unless you're close by, whether my knife fight was scheduled or came about organically.
[ he moves to the closet as he strips off his still damp windbreaker, hanging it on the doorknob rather than shoving it in amongst their dry clothes. he kicks off leather boots and deposits pizza-patterned socks onto the floor, then returns to the bed in just black jeans and grey t-shirt, prepared to leave the task of keeping him warm to the elaborate combination of blankets they've amassed. and sebastian. always sebastian.
once he's situated himself—legs under the covers, shoulder brushing sebastian's—he'll take a bite of maple glazed goodness and offer: ] You don't have to worry. I'm sure I could handle myself anyway.
no subject
Sure, but what else do you keep the Jolly Green Glower around for?
[ he is. obviously referring to himself; he knows what he is. in fact he takes no small amount of pride in his complete lack of personability, which is uh, great, i guess????? meanwhile apparently he has recanted the idea that he should keep his thoughts about zetes' capability in a knife fight to himself, speaking of knowing what he is: ]
If you had to cut a bitch [ said with a completely straight face, somehow ] you'd just get sad, and then I'd be sad, and the Cat would be sad, we'd all have to share a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and you know dairy gives her the worst kind of shits.
Not that there's a less worst kind.
[ crunch crunch crunch. thoughtfully. ]
's better for everyone if I do any stabbing that needs doing, right?
[ perhaps no one but zetes could pick out in all of that sebastian's actual meaning, which is that he is pure and lovely and sebastian would stab like, eighty people if it meant he got to stay that way. now shut up, he's just going to eat another biscotti with his head mushed in zetes' shoulder. cronch, cronch. ]
no subject
And okay, I see your point. But to be fair, I think Ben and Jerry's is worth the worst kind of shits. Lady Catherine would agree. [ or at least zetes assumes she would agree. why would she turn down food, really?
zetes reaches for another donut hole, also taking a moment to chew thoughtfully, tongue making quick work of any glaze left on his lips. it's true zetes doesn't have much affection for fighting, knives or no. he can do it with an agile efficiency, has been trained to do it for the sake of all those lives they were looking out for on the police force (and are still looking out for now, let's be fair), but it's never left anything but a bad ache in his chest. to make light of it all is easier, but it doesn't change the facts.
the thought of sebastian fighting isn't much better, but there's an undeniable comfort in the implicit message here. ]
Right. [ he traces a finger over the bare skin under his hand, drawing a smiley face that sebastian may or may not recognize as such. ] But let's avoid stabbing if at all possible.
[ he tilts his head to smile up at sebastian, the curve of his mouth subtle but warm. it's one of those you have to stay safe out there because i can't live without you kind of smiles. after a moment of meaningful gazing, he pops the other half of his donut hole in his mouth and then holds up one of his sugar-coated fingers. ]
Did you wanna try?
no subject
mostly.
the rest of what occupies him is that in quiet like this, when it's just them, sebastian knows zetes well enough to pick up even the smallest emotional nuances like notes in the complexity of really good wine, so while of course doing something dramatically sardonic with his sardonically dramatic eyebrows, he kisses the pads of sugar-coated fingers before actually, you know, sucking them between his lips up to the first knuckle. you see, zetes: he's not going anywhere! allow him to demonstrate with more suggestivity, as well as a level of doe-eyed softness absolutely no one else would believe sebastian actually possesses.
another little fingerprint kiss, for good measure, then sebastian considers giving zetes his hand back and decides against it, knotting their fingers together instead and resting them loosely on his own thigh, since zetes seems so interested in them. ( them being sebastian's thighs, naturally; being interested in them is only sensible. ) ]
What's "if at all possible"? What if they shortchange me at Yankee Candle, is that a stabbing offense?
[ the odds that sebastian has ever been in a yankee candle shop are zero. ]
You're delicious, by the way. [ which is to say nothing about the donut holes, ha ha. they were also delicious, but sebastian has priorities, and they are thoroughly banishing from zetes' chest even the tiniest ache. ]