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Entry tags:
second star to the right and straight on till morning
Who: Grantaire, Bryn & Henry Wotton
What: After a day of naked beach fun, Grantaire is drunk enough to make this threesome happen.
Verse: Tu Shanshu
Rating: NC-17
The sky is beautiful, but what is beauty to a man with no joy and a dark, rotting pit in his soul? While after a day like today his joy or lack thereof could be attested, the answer is simply that it is nature, flawed, and every beautiful is only outweighed by everything dark and miserable in the world. Still the beauty exists, and he would be hard pressed to deny that this had <i>not</i> been a good day, and into a good evening as well. In the morning he would mourn just how much of his precious alcohol he wasted in one day (two bottles, closing in on a third, and almost all of the flask Henry had given him), but for now the smooth blur of drunkenness is comfortable, homey even. As they say goodnight to Jehan (he's not sure where Courfeyrac and Alcuin have gone off to at this point, nor does he truly care), he turns on his toes to look at what remains of their party. There's a train of thought behind his lidded eyes, behind the poke of his tongue from his lips. A train of thought that ends with a clap to Henry's shoulder before he heads up towards his own suite.
"Come up for a nightcap, Wotton."
What: After a day of naked beach fun, Grantaire is drunk enough to make this threesome happen.
Verse: Tu Shanshu
Rating: NC-17
The sky is beautiful, but what is beauty to a man with no joy and a dark, rotting pit in his soul? While after a day like today his joy or lack thereof could be attested, the answer is simply that it is nature, flawed, and every beautiful is only outweighed by everything dark and miserable in the world. Still the beauty exists, and he would be hard pressed to deny that this had <i>not</i> been a good day, and into a good evening as well. In the morning he would mourn just how much of his precious alcohol he wasted in one day (two bottles, closing in on a third, and almost all of the flask Henry had given him), but for now the smooth blur of drunkenness is comfortable, homey even. As they say goodnight to Jehan (he's not sure where Courfeyrac and Alcuin have gone off to at this point, nor does he truly care), he turns on his toes to look at what remains of their party. There's a train of thought behind his lidded eyes, behind the poke of his tongue from his lips. A train of thought that ends with a clap to Henry's shoulder before he heads up towards his own suite.
"Come up for a nightcap, Wotton."