z_jay | Luceti | Appointments

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Luceti | Appointments

This post is intended for anything that one could want to RP with Eugene. Nothing fancy here, just a date, type, and place where you'd like to meet up with him and we'll go from there. The only limit here is the imagination.

Stay safe out there!

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It's beginning to become easier, letting the pattern of flashing go on and off in his peripheral vision, piecing together the more obvious shapes of lips and barely-visible flickers of tongue. He twists his head enough to keep watching when Zevran rises from the kiss, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder.

"Spoilsport." It's said as affectionately as the word can be said, rueful and warm and a little rough. "What's for breakfast, then?"

"A 'full english' as your books say. Beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, blood sausage, bacon, eggs, and fried bread." Something that would assist with sore heads and sour stomachs, at least as far as he had heard.

"If you like I can scrub and oil you down after dinner, mm?"

"After herding us around last night and making breakfast this morning?" Jack looks over at Savio with a lazy affection, giving his a little preen in reward for the good job he's doing at the key. "It should be us giving you the bath and rub-down, don't you think?" They probably could, too, as long as Zev didn't mind them lurching through it like zombies.

"I shall save that favor for something more weighty, Jack." He reaches out to poke Savio's beak when he, as ever, translates 'jack' as a rapid series of clicks to show 'Jack-Jack' or 'Jack-no' depending.

Cute when Jack could hear, less so when they need to focus.

"Such pampering does not sit well with me and you know it."

Such ********* ****** no down/sit well *th me/me and you know it, he sees from two directions, and more miraculously, he manages to put together the meaning well enough. Not bad, he thinks, after less than a month of practice.

"We could make it a game," he muses, grinning and half-joking. "Smack me for every spot I miss scrubbing and then bugger me senseless."

It's much easier to have a filthy mouth, he's found, when he can't actually hear himself.

"..." Enough so that it's taken Zevran completely by surprise. He stares at Jack and Savio for a long moment, memorizing the curl to his lips and the tilt of his head. Savio, helper that he is, starts translating what Jack said for Zevran's benefit. Otherwise he'd be talking, right?

"I think, perhaps, I could agree to that." He manages finally and Savio dutifully translates. He's such a helpful bird, isn't he?

Being watched is its own reward, and even with the headache throbbing at his temples, the nagging ache everywhere and half-sick feeling crawling around his insides, Jack lifts his eyebrows invitingly. Lifts them and licks his lips, taking the moment of silence as it drags on and self-indulgently raking his bottom lips between his teeth.

When the answer comes, he laughs under his breath without even meaning to, taking Zevran's hand and kissing the inside of his wrist. And again, another inch up. Then another. And another, with a murmur on the tail of it.

"Could you, Ser?" He looks up, chancing a little nip against the skin. "It's been awhile. A little gazza might go wild."

"A little gazza might have to wait until he looks less like death, mm? I need you fresh for such torments." He cradles the side of Jacks' skull in his palm, fingers curling and catching along his scalp easily. He has long since memorized the shape of him, what makes him shiver and sigh, what makes him blush. There's a gentle tug as he pulls Jack up for a slow, close lipped kiss. All barest brushes of skin on skin and faint washes of breath before he pulls back.

"It is simpler for you to enjoy them when you are not already miserable, mm?"

There's nothing like being handled by a masseuse's grip. An assasin's? Zevran's, he settles on mentally, contenting himself with moving with his hand, accommodating the pull and feeling a little of that overused achiness fuzz at the edges and melt with that tender, certain direction.

"Unfortunately a good point." He acquiesces as gracefully as he's really likely to - he's no great seducer when he's this worn-down, but defeats don't really hit too hard, either. "I imagine I'll be in good shape by tonight. Or - you know, whenever then-or-later you're up for it."

"Later, mm? Gazza will have both of his lords training him, mm?" One soft promise against his lips before he pulls back and returns to the pan on the stove. Savio, wanting noises of his own, starts to nudge at Jack's hand with his beak.

The barest shape of Zevran's promise is enough, and Jack settles back down against the table with an easy smile, content to get into a poking war with Savio and let his mind wander upon that prospect. Both lords.

It takes several moments of meandering until his mind fuzzily stumbles over an impediment to that, and he pulls a face that is half grin and half grimage, pressing his eye down against his forearm.

"Yeah. Assuming one of his lords isn't soundly couched for being a complete idiot."

"Mm. You saw it as well?" He has to repeat himself twice for Savio's sake, the light blinking through, followed by an abbreviated, and somewhat stilted Gene bad?

Zevran may or may not have been ranting at the bird earlier.

GENE GOOD

Jack takes over the key without thinking, tapping the reassurance as he gives Zev a commiserating look.

"I wasn't sitting in his lap to be affectionate at that point. I promise."

GENE NO. GENE NO

GENE GOOD Savio mimics once, twice, thrice to set the pattern in right before clacking his beak at Jack, trying to nudge him from the button.

MY BUTTON

Zev, oblivious to this, stirs the mess in the pan before turning back with a mug of coffee for Jack. "Your thoughts on the matter?"

"Thoughts? 'Idiot,' if I'm being nice."

HOUSE BUTTON

He gives an aggrieved noise, watching the mug with a trace of apprehension in his appreciation. Every mercy willing it won't just make him feel sicker, but there's usually no way to know until he tries.

"He knows Rogue is touchy about it. He knows that! And- I mean, fine. He gets drunk, does a little kissing, that's not cheating where I'm concerned and I'm pretty sure he knows that. But did he ever sound that out with you? Or, you know, give even a tiny warning before just rolling it out in a way that might end up slamming the self-destruct button on a perfectly good friendship?"

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