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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."
no subject
"He would, though I think I'd rather there be no room for misunderstanding," Bryn replies, putting one leg down and then wiping down the other with a quick lick of her lips. "Maybe we ought to simply head into the bedroom and invite him to join us before we begin between ourselves. I've teased him quite enough for one day, after all."
no subject
There's an association there, in his mind, with prostitutes he's seen bathe themselves as he waited, cleaning off other men as Bryn did sand.
"I would rather he be uncomfortable and you would rather he not! D'accord, an agreement. We begin as I stated, with no word to him, and should he turn to leave for the door you are more than welcome to call him back."
no subject
"Very well, but if we're to do it that way, then we start as I like," she says with a grin. Walking forward, she wraps a hand behind his neck to tug him down as the other reaches for the knob of the door. She pulls it open as she leans up to capture his lower lip in her mouth. Sucking there and tasting both the salt of the sea and the sweetness of wine, she presses her body to his to urge him out of the bathroom and back into the room where Henry waits.