We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

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Fionn
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Race: Passive
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Fri Jan 18, 2019 10:10 am

Dentis 16, 2718 | Passive Dorms
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The young man was intercepted before he got into his room. The other passive was older, one of the one's he'd glimpsed with Ayden; that should have been a clear indication of what was coming.

"Ayden wants to see you. I'd say don't keep him waiting but... you need a bath," the older man commented, eyeing him with some distaste. Fionn found himself gazing down at his uniform for the first time and the various things that splattered and stained it, sniffing his skin as well. He’d had a bath yesterday so any sweat on his skin was today’s, not likely to stink. All the boy could smell was salt. For anyone else, he would have been inclined to shrug it off. If it had been Fred then he simply would have gone, dealt with whatever needed to be dealt with and then gone off to wash.

However, the blond remembered quite clearly just how particularly the older passive was about cleanliness. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he’d allowed himself to become so darn slovenly in the last number of years. That being said, the one habit he hadn’t lost and perhaps the most important one in Ayden’s book was clean hands.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t intended to wash, he’d just come back to the dorm to drop off some things, namely the tiny bit of kojala oil he’d gotten from the kitchens and a piece of paper that he’d found in a trouser pocket while he’d been in the laundry. Both had their uses and the paper in particular was exciting because while someone had scribbled some little note on the top of it, most of it was blank. It wasn’t very big, but it was his.

Slipping into the dorm, he stashed away his stolen articles, hiding the kojala oil in Jamie’s bed and finding an alternative place for his paper before he left the dorm, heading for the baths.

There was actually a cracked mirror in the bathhouse, which when he wiped it gave Fionn a view of his face at least, a feature that he otherwise wouldn’t be able to see. It let him see that it too hadn’t escaped the mess that the rest of him had experienced. He seemed to have smeared something dark on his forehead and there appeared to be flour trailed over one cheek. His hair was a chaos of spikes, each strand appearing intent on diverging from the others. Presumably when he’d worked laundry much earlier, it had gotten more than a little damp and every time he’d shoved a hand through it to push it back, it had obviously ended up in serious disarray and then dried, now set like that.

A dunk in the bath soon sorted him out, his various messes washed away and leaving the water cloudy behind him. Hair was towelled dry and then combed with his fingers, the boy making some effort to keep it down before he left, dressed in a clean uniform that for once he wore in its completion, the shirt neatly tucked in and everything. Even so, he still managed to look untidy somehow, more than likely caused by his demeanour as he slouched along hallways with his hands in his pockets.

He opted to head to the canteen to grab something to eat, deciding that he wasn’t going to go hungry on Ayden’s account and not wanting to be distracted in any case. So by the time he was standing outside his patron’s door, he felt a little more comfortable in himself, enjoying his little rebellion of not having come as soon as possible. All the same, it was difficult to feel quite so confident when he was standing in front of the portal though, working up the courage to knock and well aware that he couldn’t stand there indefinitely; his hesitation would be seen by others and he couldn’t afford to seem afraid, especially as he was.

The blond forced himself to take a breath, resisting the urge to drag a nervous hand through his hair before he knocked. He heard the steps on the other side, the sound of a lock popping open and then the door opened, Ayden filling it as he looked down on Fionn.

"Oh it's you, I was wondering when you were going to show up. In you come then," the patron ordered, stepping aside to let the younger man in. Fionn did his best not to come too close to him as he stepped in but discovering that the patron had given him enough room to step past him but their arms brushed, even though he had to turn sideways. The door was shut behind him with a definitive sound and then Ayden stuck two short pieces of metal into the keyhole and re-engaged the lock with surprising quickness.

Passives weren't meant to be able to lock their doors. There was no such thing as privacy for them, an illusion, but the doors still had locks. In theory, it was possible to lock passives in but they didn't hold such keys. It was a risky thing to do, especially as Ayden still had superiors, still had people who could come to check on him and discover that their access was barred. Lock picking, whether to lock or unlock, was not a skill that he'd known that the older passive possessed. He could only stare at the lock with some degree of panic bleeding into his features for he was trapped in here, unable to leave until the older man said that he could.

"Now, we'll have a bit of privacy, won't we?" the patron remarked with a chuckle, clapping him on the shoulder, blue eyes reading his expression. "Make yourself comfortable."
Last edited by Fionn on Mon Jan 21, 2019 10:21 am, edited 2 times in total.

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User avatar
Fionn
Posts: 298
Joined: Wed Nov 28, 2018 11:17 am
Topics: 31
Race: Passive
Occupation: Misery
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Maximus
Writer Profile: Writer Profile
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Contact:

Sat Jan 19, 2019 12:54 pm

Dentis 16, 2718 | Passive Dorms
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Comfort was far from Fionn's mind as he turned rather rigidly, not wanting to stare too long at the lock as Ayden moved past him.

This had been Fred's room, his last patron and tormentor who had honestly been more like a cuddly hingle in comparison until Lars ate him alive. If his eldest roommate decided that he wanted to kill the patron then he'd have a much harder time of it. How things had changed...

The room was smaller than the room that he shared with Jamie and Lars, cosier but this one was Ayden's alone. His bed was a comfortable one, a little wider than the ones in the shared rooms, and his own hearth, which had a fire roaring within it. There was a washstand with a jug nearby it and a table containing the remains of a meal, a chair pulled out from under it that suggested that Ayden had been sitting there when the blond knocked. There were various items set near the table, the sort of thing that would count as contraband and which he had no doubt confiscated from others when he'd carried out inspections.

And there were... books, real honest to the gods books. Fionn gawked, wondering how the older man had gotten ahold of such items, especially when he'd felt that having a slip of paper was so highly illicit. As he watched, Ayden approached the tomes, narrow and simplistic in truth, the sort of books that passives were occasionally allowed access to because they were stories designed to make them better servants, more accepting of their way of life. However, as the patron took one from the middle and opened it, Fionn discovered that they provided something more: it was actually a slim storage container. He extracted a cigarette from it, almost seeming to conjure it out of thin air, and the blond wondered idly if it was one of his own.

"I mean it, you can sit down. If you want to take that seat, there's food there. I don't know if you've eaten or not but you're welcome to it," the older man commented, moving to the fire, bending to shove the tip of the cigarette into the flames before bringing it to his lips, taking a long drag.

"No, I'm fine to stand," Fionn responded woodenly, crossing his arms over his chest, trying not to shift his weight from foot to foot in his uneasiness. Ayden glanced his way, cigarette drawn from his lips as he exhaled a plume of smoke. The parse's head tilted, his expression thoughtful. He closed the distance between them, leaving less than a yard for a gap.

"Do I frighten you, Fionn?"

"No!" he spat out, the speed of the denial belying the meaning of the word.

A slow grin spread over Ayden's face, the man stepping closer, cigarette in one hand while the other went to Fionn's chest, fingers splaying over his quickly beating heart. The blond jerked, ready to step back but stopped, knowing that there was nowhere to go. Ayden took another drag and puffed smoke out of the side of his grinning mouth.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked wickedly, laughing as he removed his hand, the touch already having had a noticeable effect by ratcheting up his heart rate. His face had also taken the opportunity to heat and redden during those agonisingly long seconds.

Sweet Alioe, he couldn't hate him. It wasn't possible for him to hate him, especially not when the older boy had his hands on him. The attraction within him had undeniably stirred and he was suddenly all too conscious of the fact that the door being locked meant that they had quite a bit of privacy.

Steady now, he told himself, swallowing with difficulty as the other moved away. He watched the taller man sprawl quite comfortably on his bed, long form stretched out and his head and shoulders propped up on pillows as he smoked.

Damn him! He was doing it on purpose, he had to be, knowing full well that it wasn't terror that was producing this reaction from him. Fionn couldn't look at him. He just couldn't. Instead, he moved to examine the books, shaking fingers tracing the spines as if he could absorb the coveted letters through his skin. The titles were innocuous, the sort of thing that could be found in the little passive library, simple moral tales about servants and reaffirmed how the gated passives should act. They were fairytales really, speaking of happiness and rewards for those who behaved themselves and went above and beyond to please their masters as if only the "bad" servants were the ones who were punished. Regardless, they were new, something that Ayden had obviously brought here as Fred certainly hadn't had them.

Given where the cigarette had come from, he doubted that the handful of tomes were what they seemed but to an outsider, say Mrs Rogers if she came checking, they probably looked very good indeed.

"Looking for some inspiration? To be a good, obedient little servant? Wouldn't have thought that was your thing although from what I've heard, you apparently need a lesson or two," Ayden explained with a laugh.

All pretence of distraction was gone, brown gaze drawn to Ayden as if he was magnetised. The other was watching him, oozing nonchalance but also evidently interested. It was quite an intense interest actually, the man's gaze sweeping slowly over his body in a manner that sent a small shiver of pleasure up Fionn's spine.

"Oh? Heard a lot about me, have you? What have you heard?" the blond asked with feigned casualness that fell flat courtesy of the little tremble in his voice. He put a hand on the chair, intending to turn it around so he could sit but not be too close to Ayden. He didn't want to sit on the bed with him. If he did that, he was probably doomed, all caution would be thrown to the wind and the relationship that he definitely didn't want to start up again - oh but he really did want it - would most definitely start up again.

"Come here, would you?" Ayden requested, sitting up and drawing his legs up under him as he patted the edge of his bed. Fionn's heart lurched. "Yeah, well, I've been asking about you as it happens. Had to find out how you'd been getting on, it's been a few years, you know? Show me your hands, would you?"

By this point, the younger servant had approached, perching himself on the bed's edge and when the request to show his hands came, he found himself thrown back in time. How many times had the brunette asked him such a thing, clucking his tongue in disappointment and disgust if he found them anything less than spotless. He'd always had a thing about clean hands, not wanting Fionn to touch him if they were in any way dirty. It had always meant that Ayden wouldn't have any contact with him either, the blond too likely to get "caught up in the moment" and so he had taken to being clean in those early years, not wanting to miss out on the chance to be close to him. Still, that didn't stop his hands from shaking as he presented them to Ayden, a sense of anticipation building within him.

He wanted this. He really wanted this and if Ayden-

"Make fists, I want to see your knuckles."

Fionn did as he was told, heart beating so fast that he thought he might vomit it up, gentle fingers tracing over his scarred knuckles, Ayden's hands softer than he remembered, softer than any passive's he'd seen for awhile. They weren't as rough as Fionn's own, the roughness evidently having been lost at the same time as a great deal of his muscle; the life he'd been living over the last few years had been an easy one.

"You do hit as much as they say, you should be smarter about it though. You must leave yourself in bits," Ayden murmured, raising Fionn's hands in his own, head bending to allow his lips to brush over his scarred knuckles as if to kiss the old hurts better. Something inside the blond melted.

Ayden massaged his hands, encouraging Fionn to relax them and stretch out his fingers again, his own knuckles relatively unblemished. He stroked the blond's hands, again bending to land those feathery kisses across his fingers. Fionn was frozen in place.

"I could do with someone... someone I can trust. Someone who knows the lads in the wing. Someone who can help me handle trouble and maybe... deal out a bit of punishment. It's hard coming in like this, getting back to a wing after a few years, people thinking that maybe... I'm soft 'cos I haven't been working as hard as them for awhile," the brunette admitted with a soft sigh, gazing down at Fionn's hands sadly.

"You aren't soft, they just... they don't know any better," the blond breathed out, earning a small smile from Ayden although his blue eyes were pools of worry. "If you want me t-t-to help out then I could... I could..."

The words stuttered to a halt, simply because Ayden was gazing at him with an expression that was considerably brightened, his eyes blazing with hope. "Would you... would you do that for me? Really? Oh Fionn!"

Arms were thrown around him, the blond finding himself pressed against the other, dragged further onto the bed with that enthusiastic embrace. He found his face pressed against the other's shoulder, revelling in the closeness, the warmth and the smell! Alioe, he'd forgotten that smell, that wonderful, familiar and comforting smell. He relaxed in Ayden's arms, his own snaking out around him, wanting to draw out this contact, desperately yearning for it.

But Ayden was pulling back, taking his face in his hands instead, the two forced to look at each other as brown eyes met blue. "You're wonderful, do you know that? I knew that I could talk to you about this, that you'd get it. That you'd get me," the patron declared happily, his demeanour becoming more relaxed as he spoke, voice softening. "I'm grateful, Fionn, really I am. If I need you, I can count on you. Can't I?"

The boy nodded, frankly more than willing to say yes to anything right now and the man obviously knew it. He leaned close again, this time pressing his lips to Fionn's own and the blond parted them willingly, the taste of the cigarette swirling into his mouth and then he lost his head altogether. The kiss deepened rapidly, a hunger on the blond's part as he pressed against him, needy for the remembered touch, all earlier fears and nervousness forgotten as he gave himself to the other man.

And he was glad of it.
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