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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 28, 2009 20:27:14 GMT -5
"But why?"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 28, 2009 20:40:55 GMT -5
"Because you're mostly man," he said, another light shrug. "It just doesn't make sense that you'd be part bird all the time."
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 28, 2009 20:57:03 GMT -5
Erin absorbed this. "Oh."
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 28, 2009 21:04:49 GMT -5
Adrien smiled, falling back into the predictable pattern of ambiguous smiles and slightly-less-ambiguous actions, fingertips creeping forward so that they were soon upon his collarbones.
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 28, 2009 21:09:27 GMT -5
Erin could not shake the feeling that Notre Dame's hands were closing around his neck when he did that. Erin hunched his shoulders again, to shift the other man's hands away, and flicked his gaze towards the tent flap. Erin had an excellent internal clock, but unfortunately he still had a while to go 'til he was due to his cage...
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 28, 2009 21:53:27 GMT -5
"Calm down." His hands slid down a little further. The suggestiveness of the action was hard to conceal. But Notre-Dame had a rather predictable interest in other men's shoulders. His own were rather narrow.
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 28, 2009 22:03:53 GMT -5
Erin thought, rather dryly, that that was exactly the sort of thing a potential rapist would say. Not that he thought Notre Dame was a rapist, no, not at all, and Erin had a rather predictable belief in his own invincibility, but it reminded him of a line from some high school drama, the sort of trash his sister would watch- the football player to the cheerleader as he unhooked her bra.
Still, it seemed pretty unlikely that there would be any possible reason for Notre Dame to be touching his chest other than because he was trying to start something, and Erin pushed his hands away with a small huff of exasperation.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 28, 2009 22:13:18 GMT -5
The thought of Notre-Dame raping anyone was laughable. Well, not entirely - a girl, perhaps, with ease - but a man? Erin, in particular? Not unless he wanted the reaction he'd get from him.
He smiled again, still completely silent, and pushed his hands back over his shoulders. When he finally spoke, he took away whatever ambiguity might have been left. "Free of charge."
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 28, 2009 22:31:37 GMT -5
Erin crossed his arms, settling in like a storm-cloud and perfectly comfortable where he was, i.e., not facing Notre Dame. It wasn't that Erin was a prude, nor was he that uncomfortable with the idea of sex with a near-stranger- hell, he was only out of his teens by a few years and over the legal drinking age, he knew at least the basics of hooking up- but the other man didn't appeal to him at all. He glared at the far wall, wishing that Notre Dame would stop touching him so he could concentrate. "How generous. No."
It might have been his unsettling ability to make Erin feel like prey.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 29, 2009 13:47:19 GMT -5
Notre-Dame shrugged, still smiling in the usual manner. He stepped to the side, hands sliding almost teasingly over Erin's bare skin before they were gone, and met Erin's eyes as though they were inside on a joke together. The smile was almost personal, but then, wasn't it always. "If you ever want to."
He waved, a flutter of fingers that did not seem effeminate, before turning and leaving the tent, reaching for a cigarette as he did so.
He hadn't realized he was going to make the offer, but he didn't dwell on it at the time or afterwards. Sex was casual, too casual, for Adrien; and if he happened to become aware of any strong feelings for someone, sex was usually the furthest thing from his mind, oddly enough. As such, he wasn't really bothered by being refused. As he'd said, the offer still stood. For whenever. Obviously, he'd be back.
((And then we should do another thread, and another one, and...))
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 29, 2009 13:52:59 GMT -5
And Erin didn't move, only sitting and glaring at the tent wall until it was time for him to perform.
(( Yessssss, Maggie waaaaants. ))
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 29, 2009 14:02:27 GMT -5
**NEW DAY (AGAIN)**
The next time Adrien popped in, it was very late, so that he had snuck into a back row of near-empty chairs during the last fifteen minutes or so of the performance. There was already almost no one still there, proof things were winding down, as most of Paris was going to leave; and all that was left was, more or less, unchaperoned couples or very young children who were evading parents or who did not have any. Adrien belonged to more or less the same class as this lot. He wasn't surprised to see them.
He was, however, intrigued at the thought of catching Erin changing back. He was thinking of offering dinner or something. He didn't actually have the faintest clue what Erin did nights and he could stand learning. He wasn't sure if Erin had seen him slip in, or if he cared if he did or not. He had been conspicuously gone earlier that day, and was only mildly more snazzily dressed than usual - the clothes mostly the same, only the coat a bit dressy, and the scarf more ostentatious (as today it was meant to conceal quite a few lovebites). No, he wasn't at all sure he'd be noticed.
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 29, 2009 16:01:30 GMT -5
Erin did not notice him at first, simply sulking in the back of the cage, because as Notre Dame had seen there was barely anyone there now and Erin was bored and sullen after an entire night. Slowly people trickled out, a few coming in, but most leaving, and eventually Erin did notice the other man by benefit of him being the last one there. He sauntered to the front of the cage, wings swaying lightly from side to side as he wrapped his hands around the bars, pressing his forehead against them and peering out to grin at Notre Dame. He didn't say anything, but at one point there was the lowest little croon, and Erin began to look with some irritation towards the tent flap.
A few minutes later, a man came in. "Lady, the show's over, you've got to leave," he said, with some amount of politeness. He was holding a sandwich in his left hand.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Mar 29, 2009 16:06:45 GMT -5
Notre-Dame smiled at him in his usual fashion, shook his head, didn't speak, didn't get up to leave. He had every intention of staying there.
He wondered if this man was the one who unlocked the cage. Likewise, he wondered why Erin was in it. He imagined suddenly that Erin had a tendency to fly off in the middle of shows otherwise, if he was really bored, and that management must have insisted. His smile became just slightly more pronounced. He'd ask.
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Post by Erin Harper on Mar 29, 2009 16:19:20 GMT -5
The man gave him a long stare and shrugged, maybe thinking that he was a lady friend of Erin's. He walked between the chairs to the cage, indeed to unlock it, but paused first to wave the sandwich at Erin and tell him to change back. Erin did not look very impressed, or very happy about it, but this was apparently a nightly routine and he went about it quickly enough. The hair slunk backwards, the eyes were scrunched shut, and the wings slowly retracted in a mind-bending sort of fashion, making Erin shudder and sit down heavily on the floor of the cage. As the wings disappeared, the man unlocked and opened the cage, bending to pat Erin on the shoulder gamely and put the sandwich into unresisting hands.
Erin's eyes drifted open, to his normal pale blue. The man left.
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