These tragic faces often aid us in achieving our means.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 177 Location: In your dreams. Karma: -1,000
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #1 on Oct 22, 2007, 11:15pm »
"Oh, not to his face, no," answered Brock flippantly, waving the hand that held the key in the air as he used that very same hand to close the door behind him. The hand shifted to a pocket in his pants and he must have abandoned the key there: the next time he lifted his hand, it was empty.
Although Elias was starting to move, Brock kept his palm on Elias' elbow and kept up with him. If there was anything at which he'd gotten good since he'd known the other, it was keeping up with Elias Sven's whims and movements.
"But otherwise it's a harmless." As if proving that there was no harm in it at all, Brock squeezed Elias' elbow as he lead him down the hallway. "He'd do nearly anything for you, you know."
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 179 Karma: 1
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #2 on Oct 22, 2007, 9:49pm »
If Brock wanted another body coming and going, Elias would merrily act as the person doing so. He smiled lightly, but it wasn't too bright and obvious. There was a meaning in 'too perfect' that he couldn't grasp but he had an inkling that maybe Brock grew lonesome. Perhaps it was like the Men who dreamed about coming home to the Woman who had dinner prepared and the family gathered at the table.
Feeling the hand shift to his shoulder and down to his elbow, let him know it was time to leave.
Elias started to walk out, turning his head to look around the apartment building curiously. So far he saw no one else leaving their rooms and continued on. "A mess?" he mused, wondering why Brock wanted such a thing. Usually people wanted their rooms to be clean and well organized. However, other than repeating it to himself, he didn't question further. After all, he was going to come back and already had a plan in mind to make a mess. Perhaps Brock was an OCD and had loads of fun cleaning up after people.
"All right, except I wouldn't address him as a pet.." it was a slight warning, but his voice remained neutral, meaning no harm.
These tragic faces often aid us in achieving our means.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 177 Location: In your dreams. Karma: -1,000
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #3 on Oct 22, 2007, 9:21pm »
When Elias took the silver key, Brock reached his hand out to pluck up the gold one, as if he planned on being away after he'd seen Elias home. "There's nothing to appreciate," he teased, wisely not offering anything else in reply to 'It's healing' even though he would have liked to ask more about Fletcher's condition, how Fletcher was feeling, what Fletcher said, what time Fletcher came home, what Fletcher sounded like -- was his voice trembling? Was he brave? Was he upset? -- and various other questions that Elias likely wouldn't care to answer.
Even Brock could tell Elias didn't want to talk about it.
"I'm terribly selfish, you see: it will be nice to have another body coming and going. When I come home, it's too perfect." His arm slowly left Elias' shoulders, but the palm had another purpose: it slipped down so it could cup Elias' elbow, squeezing and holding onto it the way he always did when he intended to lead Elias somewhere, but was afraid of touching too much. The other palm reached for the door when they were close, holding it for the other. "Be sure to leave a mess for me to pick up. I'll be out for a few hours once I take you back. While I'm gone, you're free to come back once you let your pet know you're alive."
It was somewhat mean to call Fletcher that, but it was all in good humour. After all, Fletcher had been one of Elias' knights.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 179 Karma: 1
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #4 on Oct 22, 2007, 8:20pm »
The gesture reminded Elias that he had nothing to worry about, even though he wasn't worrying in the first place. Later on, weeks from now, he might have needed the small shake to remind him that Brock tolerating him was real. As for now, it was a quick transition from trying to get something to having nothing to achieve at all. While Brock had the idea to look up, Elias decided to glance down.
"It's healing," he informed, although a little put off that Fletcher was brought up. With the look Fletcher had given him when Brock was in their room, he would not inform the other male about his friend's well-being or who had exactly done it. Did Fletcher even really know who did it? It remained a mysterious.
Moving closer to the door he shifted his gaze off of the wood and noticed the keys mounted there, taunting him. Immediately, he took to the ones on the bottom left. Elias released Brock to reach out and take the silver one, folding the key within his palm to glance up at Brock. Really, can I have these? his face said but he quickly averted his attention to the door. Still, he didn't want to leave, not when the scent of Brock hung under his nose.
These tragic faces often aid us in achieving our means.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 177 Location: In your dreams. Karma: -1,000
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #5 on Oct 22, 2007, 12:28pm »
"Naturally," he offered, gracious and kind, as if there was never a man who was more willing to give than Brock Butschky -- as if temples should have been erected in his name; as if he should have had plays written about him; as if he resided at the top of the tallest mountain in the world looking down, sitting at a stone table with his arms folded and deciding that, no, the world wasn't truly all right, but it would do anyway: it was good enough.
His arm slipped around Elias' shoulders, shaking him gently and roughing him -- a small gesture of comfort. "But I ask you don't come at night unless you have an escort. Your kitten's welcome at any time as well, but I have a feeling you'd be unable to force him here."
Brock's eyes lifted to the ceiling, mouth curved down somewhat, eyes low-lidded and distant. "A shame, what happened to his face."
When that thought passed, he began to lead Elias toward the door, politely saying, "The keys are on the key holder." And they were: the key holder was mounted beside the door, deep and rich, carved into the shape of an upside-down oak leaf. On each of the leaf's ends, a set of keys lingered. There seemed to be more keys than what one person would need, but on the bottom left were two: one silver, one gold.
"They're the bottom most on the left. Whichever key colour you prefer, you're free to have." Judging by the two different colours, he must have had copies made.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 179 Karma: 1
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #6 on Oct 22, 2007, 8:52am »
Elias hadn't caught the satisfied glint in Brock's eyes because his own were focused on the counter and at the two rags folded next to each other. Bunched in his right hand, the fabric of his stained shirt peeked out between his fingers. Finally, his eyes took him to Brock's face. For some strange reason the other male looked as though he was hesitant to speak. A lot had happened between the two for the last couple of days, there were many things to say.
Vaguely, Elias wondered if he really wanted to hear it all. However, what was actually said took him by surprise. He was expecting something worse, very worse. Every tense fiber in his body started to disappear. Between yesterday and today, it wasn't enough time to Elias. In some sick way, new couples everywhere wondered if there was going to be a tomorrow for their bond?
Not at all, at least for one night stands.
The silence couldn't last forever with Elias. He walked toward Brock and reached his left hand out to take Brock's right into his own. It didn't involve braiding fingers together; instead his fingers inched into the center of the palm. Still quiet, he rested his head against the other's arm, a gesture that said no, I don't want to leave.
"Is it okay if I came back later today, then?" That would be the evening, but it would be enough time to talk to Fletcher if he had any worries. At least he would have enough time to not let someone worry about whether or not he was alive.
« Last Edit: Oct 22, 2007, 10:12am by Elias Sven »
These tragic faces often aid us in achieving our means.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 177 Location: In your dreams. Karma: -1,000
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #7 on Oct 22, 2007, 5:08am »
The first rag he'd used to clean up was deep green. The second he used was white and white only so he could see what traces of juice or other unclean things were left when he dampened it and wiped it across the counter.
He found nothing: his expression was somewhat satisfied, but not so much of an obvious thing.
By the time Elias came back, both of the rags were folded neatly by the sink, side-by-side, green and white. When he turned his head to the other, looked him over from bottom-up, taking in every detail of far-too-large-but-manageable black shirt against Elias' complexion, there was a small trace of satisfaction lingering somewhere in his deep green eyes, bright and possessive, as if to say That's mine -- no, not just the shirt. All of it. Doesn't it look wonderful?
He was certain, at that moment, he understood what Elias Sven's father must have felt when he allowed his son to pursue a modeling career.
He was also certain Fletcher Heaton might be wondering what the hell was going on: where was Elias? Was he all right?
He paused for a moment, the other words that were on his tongue dying slowly, replaced by an expression like contemplation. When he opened his mouth to speak again, he stopped once more as if hesitating, and then continued, "I should be seeing you home soon, shouldn't I? I've occupied enough of your time between yesterday and today."
After all those speeches about Elias walking alone, there was no way in hell he'd let him go away by himself now.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 179 Karma: 1
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #8 on Oct 21, 2007, 9:23pm »
The edge of the counter looked appealing compared to Brock's face just because he was embarrassed that he let it even happen. He was fine holding onto the edge, making sure it didn't pool any further but his hand was being shifted away. Shyly, his eyes lifted to see Brock's mouth cleaning the juice from his palm. Quickly, he thunked the glass down upon the counter next to his sweater. Once his hand was released he brought it back to his chest, eyes glancing down to see if there was any evidence that Brock's mouth had been there.
There wasn't.
He watched Brock move to the drawer and turned his head in the direction of the other's room. With the way the other said it, it sounded like he had to be quick. Elias wouldn't have minded walking about in a juice-stained shirt but he knew very well other people would have minded it. In a way it was Brock's fault but Elias had been the stupid one to not pay attention to his hand. "Okay," he responded going in the direction of the room. "Thank you."
When he made it into the room, he didn't glance around curiously or try to snoop. Rather, he went straight to the drawer and opened each one until he got to the indicated tops. They really all did look the same. He saw a few white and a few black. Since he had already spilled the juice, he skipped over the white and removed one of the black ones neatly adorned with a collar. Elias moved to the bed to set the shirt down, removing his own before placing Brock's shirt on.
He could smell the other's scent and was vaguely aware that he enjoyed it too much. Quietly, he buttoned the shirt up to his neck and worked his way to rolling up the sleeves. The shoulders of the shirt dropped down to his arms but the rolled up fabric to his elbows made it look like it was purpose. Elias took his stained shirt and started to fold it on his way back out.
When he got there, his mess was already cleaned. "I think I am done with juice for the day," he said quietly.
These tragic faces often aid us in achieving our means.
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 177 Location: In your dreams. Karma: -1,000
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #9 on Oct 21, 2007, 9:09pm »
In his defense, he didn't burst into laughter the moment Elias spilled his drink. While flustering him had been the intention, forcing the poor boy to spill his drink hadn't been. Although, for the most part, he allowed Elias to push him away, Brock shifted his body so he could take Elias' hand in his own, keeping him from stopping the juice.
Because at times he was wicked, Brock lifted the other's palm and brought his mouth to the side of the hand, not-so-politely mouthing the liquid off, salt and juice mingling against his tongue.
When he lowered that palm, his mouth was still curved into that ever-present sly smile, eyes low-lidded and satisfied. When he released Elias, he offered, "There's no need to worry. I'll take care of it." Which was his way of saying that the entire ordeal was his fault and that he should be the one to clean up the mess.
Already pawing through the drawers for a wash rag, Brock offered, "Do help yourself to the refrigerator; have all the juice you wish -- though I suppose you'd prefer a change of clothes first. Help yourself to my drawers if it suits you." Elias would have to hurry: he wouldn't have much time before Brock finished. "Pick anything you like."
Joined: Sept 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 179 Karma: 1
Re: A study in How Long Can He Sleep? (Elias) « Result #10 on Oct 21, 2007, 7:54pm »
The grip on the glass started to quiver slightly. Not out of fear but because he was starting to feel anxious. He was trapped beneath Brock, between his arms and was looking straight up to the fox-like expression. If it was just juice, then he they should have future conversations about it because for some reason the topic drew Brock closer. For some strange reason, the glass felt like it melded into his palm because by now he was feeling air.
Elias wasn't a clumsy person and never dropped things unless he was instructed. Yet for some reason the glass tilted against his side, the juice pouring down his shirt and onto the counter, which his sweater had kindly soaked up. He didn't even notice his mistake, didn't even see it because Brock's head blocked his view.
Finally, the juice soaked into his shirt and touched his flesh. Of course it was cold and sticky. Elias lifted the glass away from his side, moving his free-hand up to suddenly push Brock away from himself so that he could see the mess he made. His face was slightly flushed, slightly embarrassed by now. "It was just fine," he commented comically before his eyes lifted, the hand moving off of the other's chest to wring at his shirt quietly.
Elias glanced down to see the juice pooling on the counter, making its way towards the ledge. "Sorry," he remarked, dropping his head, "Do you have a rag? I'll clean it up." Now he moved his hand to use the palm to stop the liquid from dripping to the floor.
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