[they've been at the tavern a couple different nights this week. inevitably, this kind of establishment is where adventuring parties end up. after you've fought direwolves and gone dungeoneering for treasure and leveled up quite a lot with various courtly intrigues and encounters with goblins, where else would you go? what else would you do, if not have a beer, make new friends.
all the better if your new friends are lovely and fair half-elves, even if they have got an uncomfortable penchant for pet dragons. most of the time, aro doesn't bring his dragon to tavern anyway, which is good.
they're five cups in, per each. the room is soft and fuzzy and the travelworn lines in aro's face have faded entirely, either from the influence of alcohol or enough nights good sleep. you get a little bit numb when you're drunk, which is exactly why willem wanted to play this game. he claimed one of aro's hands, turned it palm-up.] You have to guess what I'm writing, [he had said.] Sip for every time you get it wrong.
[he may have been drawing the letters a little messily. but also, honestly, there are just a lot of them. he's written it once. twice. y o u
paused to tease aro a moment. three times. y o u a r e. four.
five.
b e a u
six, seven. but aro's already started to finish the word in his mind, willem can tell. he ducks his head down to intercept the half-elf's gaze, flashes him a drunk, toothy smile. hello, love.]
[ Aro is used enough to taverns. He likes places like this, where he
can be anonymous and comfortable, fading into a crowd and pretending to be
part of it. He's never fooled about actually being a part of it; such is
the way of the wanderer. The only companion he can really rely upon is
Iessa, and she's hunting at the moment. His thoughts are a bit scattered,
really, a result of the alcohol he's been plied with. His head is light.
This isn't the first time this week, either, and as it happens, he's not
actually alone, either. He's with Willem, as he has been every time he's
come here. It's a strange feeling, being part of a pair. It's even stranger
that the barkeep had nodded at them when they came in, as if he expected
them. And recognised them. And knew that they always appeared together.
Very strange.
But nice, somehow. Of course he's aware of the danger in this, of
getting used to being with Willem, and perhaps thinking that Willem is a
companion he can rely on. Very dangerous thoughts. But still, he laughs at
his jokes, and hangs on his smile, and feels heat rising into his cheeks
when he spends too long looking at the warmth of his eyes. He gives up his
hand willingly, mostly to enjoy the feeling of Willem's fingers tickling
it.
That makes him laugh again, and sway in his chair. He leans against
Willem's shoulder, companionable and comfortable, and he flexes his
fingers. ]
You? [ He recounts, following the touch. ] You are. B. E. O
– no, A. B – e – a…u.
[ On that one he stops, and looks up at Willem. There's not an awful
lot of words that could begin like that. He looks up and sees that smile
and those eyes, and there's something about Willem that nearly looks
shy.
Aro quickly closes his fingers, catching Willem's and holding them.
With his other hand, he catches a couple of dark curly strands, running his
thumb over them. ]
I'm not. Not really. Not compared to you.
[ He leans closer, enough to feel Willem's breath on his lips.
Enough to smell the alcohol they've been sharing, too, which makes him
smile. ]
What if I did something stupid? Would you be annoyed? Or would you like it,
and keep saying nice things to me? If I did something…really stupid.
[ A brief flash of his tongue wets his lips. This isn't particularly
subtle. Blame the alcohol for that; he has brilliant moves otherwise,
honestly. ]
[let's be real here, willem bassey is not exactly the most incredibly intelligent person to have ever come through a tavern. your moves don't have to be smooth with him, only sincere. and despite his half-elfin charms, the sure capacity for deceit or manipulation as all wanderers need to get by in a world without a home, arohaerd seems unmistakably sincere here and now.
willem leans a little bit closer. he sees the bright, pretty luminosity of aro's eyes, the shape of his mouth pursing like a rosehip, in preparation of receiving a metaphorical bumblebee or just a kiss. 'just a kiss.' like he hasn't been thinking about it, through games of dragon chess that he lost badly, and little duels that he'd won handily, apart from those he'd lost. his sword is silent. the world feels that way too, the chatter and drone of background noise fallen away, abandoning his senses to heady liquor.]
But you're so clever, [willem says. he hopes his hand isn't sweating where aro is holding it, and partly in order to deflect attention in case it is, he draws a 't' on the back of the half-elf's hand, down his metacarpal and then across.] I very much doubt, under the cir--cumstances—
[pardon him. that was a slight hiccup, even as his eyes crinkle affectionately.] --that you could possibly do anything that stupid. As long as you meant it, as long as you weren't making fun. [sometimes, he doesn't notice when people are making fun.]
[ A T on his hand. B-e-a-u-t. The touch makes him shiver and flex his fingers. He'd guessed the word already, but that touch reinforces it, and it's sweet and gentle, and of course it isn't true, but when Willem looks at him like that, he can almost believe it is. He can believe it doesn't matter that he's not wealthy, or particularly good at anything other than wandering. Maybe Willem isn't thinking about practical things. Maybe he's just here in the moment, and maybe…
Maybe he's actually equally unsure. As long as you meant it, he says, as if there's some risk that Aro might not. He leans forward.
The alcohol has made his eyes fuzzy. It's annoying, he thinks, because he'd like to remember this clearly, and he's very worried that he won't. ]
Why would I do that?
[ He says, but he doesn't give time for an answer. He leans in, kissing Willem's soft full lips. He kisses him before he has time to rethink it, before he has time to talk himself out of it. His fingers flex again, this time curling inwards to hold Willem's hand. His other hand moves, too, coming to settle at his waist, and his body moves naturally in towards Willem. Chest against chest, a bit of a gap between their stomachs. It's a nice kiss. Warm, tasting of the beer they've been drinking, and tasting of something else too. Something sweet that's uniquely Willem.
He leans back, his lips catching Willem's lower one as he does. It's left him a bit tingly. His smile is lopsided, hopeful. ]
Is that okay? Cause I'll do it again, if it is. [ And softly, just in case: ] I'm not making fun.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i'll just put this here cuz realizing theres no non-fr inbox :3
all the better if your new friends are lovely and fair half-elves, even if they have got an uncomfortable penchant for pet dragons. most of the time, aro doesn't bring his dragon to tavern anyway, which is good.
they're five cups in, per each. the room is soft and fuzzy and the travelworn lines in aro's face have faded entirely, either from the influence of alcohol or enough nights good sleep. you get a little bit numb when you're drunk, which is exactly why willem wanted to play this game. he claimed one of aro's hands, turned it palm-up.] You have to guess what I'm writing, [he had said.] Sip for every time you get it wrong.
[he may have been drawing the letters a little messily. but also, honestly, there are just a lot of them. he's written it once. twice. y o u
paused to tease aro a moment. three times. y o u a r e. four.
five.
b e a u
six, seven. but aro's already started to finish the word in his mind, willem can tell. he ducks his head down to intercept the half-elf's gaze, flashes him a drunk, toothy smile. hello, love.]
Cries I love this so much!
On Thu, Nov 1, 2018 at 7:23 AM wolfslayer - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> wrote:
<3333 i was planning it for a long time
I am so sorry for the confusion and how long this took.
[ Aro is used enough to taverns. He likes places like this, where he can be anonymous and comfortable, fading into a crowd and pretending to be part of it. He's never fooled about actually being a part of it; such is the way of the wanderer. The only companion he can really rely upon is Iessa, and she's hunting at the moment. His thoughts are a bit scattered, really, a result of the alcohol he's been plied with. His head is light. This isn't the first time this week, either, and as it happens, he's not actually alone, either. He's with Willem, as he has been every time he's come here. It's a strange feeling, being part of a pair. It's even stranger that the barkeep had nodded at them when they came in, as if he expected them. And recognised them. And knew that they always appeared together. Very strange.
But nice, somehow. Of course he's aware of the danger in this, of getting used to being with Willem, and perhaps thinking that Willem is a companion he can rely on. Very dangerous thoughts. But still, he laughs at his jokes, and hangs on his smile, and feels heat rising into his cheeks when he spends too long looking at the warmth of his eyes. He gives up his hand willingly, mostly to enjoy the feeling of Willem's fingers tickling it.
That makes him laugh again, and sway in his chair. He leans against Willem's shoulder, companionable and comfortable, and he flexes his fingers. ] You? [ He recounts, following the touch. ] You are. B. E. O – no, A. B – e – a…u.
[ On that one he stops, and looks up at Willem. There's not an awful lot of words that could begin like that. He looks up and sees that smile and those eyes, and there's something about Willem that nearly looks shy.
Aro quickly closes his fingers, catching Willem's and holding them. With his other hand, he catches a couple of dark curly strands, running his thumb over them. ]
I'm not. Not really. Not compared to you.
[ He leans closer, enough to feel Willem's breath on his lips. Enough to smell the alcohol they've been sharing, too, which makes him smile. ]
What if I did something stupid? Would you be annoyed? Or would you like it, and keep saying nice things to me? If I did something…really stupid.
[ A brief flash of his tongue wets his lips. This isn't particularly subtle. Blame the alcohol for that; he has brilliant moves otherwise, honestly. ]
nppp <33
willem leans a little bit closer. he sees the bright, pretty luminosity of aro's eyes, the shape of his mouth pursing like a rosehip, in preparation of receiving a metaphorical bumblebee or just a kiss. 'just a kiss.' like he hasn't been thinking about it, through games of dragon chess that he lost badly, and little duels that he'd won handily, apart from those he'd lost. his sword is silent. the world feels that way too, the chatter and drone of background noise fallen away, abandoning his senses to heady liquor.]
But you're so clever, [willem says. he hopes his hand isn't sweating where aro is holding it, and partly in order to deflect attention in case it is, he draws a 't' on the back of the half-elf's hand, down his metacarpal and then across.] I very much doubt, under the cir--cumstances—
[pardon him. that was a slight hiccup, even as his eyes crinkle affectionately.] --that you could possibly do anything that stupid. As long as you meant it, as long as you weren't making fun. [sometimes, he doesn't notice when people are making fun.]
no subject
Maybe he's actually equally unsure. As long as you meant it, he says, as if there's some risk that Aro might not. He leans forward.
The alcohol has made his eyes fuzzy. It's annoying, he thinks, because he'd like to remember this clearly, and he's very worried that he won't. ]
Why would I do that?
[ He says, but he doesn't give time for an answer. He leans in, kissing Willem's soft full lips. He kisses him before he has time to rethink it, before he has time to talk himself out of it. His fingers flex again, this time curling inwards to hold Willem's hand. His other hand moves, too, coming to settle at his waist, and his body moves naturally in towards Willem. Chest against chest, a bit of a gap between their stomachs. It's a nice kiss. Warm, tasting of the beer they've been drinking, and tasting of something else too. Something sweet that's uniquely Willem.
He leans back, his lips catching Willem's lower one as he does. It's left him a bit tingly. His smile is lopsided, hopeful. ]
Is that okay? Cause I'll do it again, if it is. [ And softly, just in case: ] I'm not making fun.