[He finally gets up off his stupid ass. As the lady commands. He starts forward, and though his eyes flick toward the word tattooed on her skin, he says nothing as he begins his tour. He sort of winces to himself as he realize there's hardly much to look at, but nonetheless carries on with his usual brand of enthusiasm.]
Locker rooms are over here, where yours truly spent many a day donning a lovely orange jumpsuit, perfect color for autumn.
[She follows him lazily, trailing behind, nursing her cigarette and taking in all the peeling paint and scuffed linoleum that the community center has to offer.]
I take it you weren't just sporting a jumpsuit because it brought out your eyes.
[She noticed that he noticed her lovely new tattoo, but she doesn't care. It's not like she's made any attempts to hide it.]
[But he smiles at the sound of her laughter, beaming as he continues on down the hallway.]
There's some kind of day care room down this way, though I've never really been in it--don't get me wrong, I don't mind kids or nothin, but a bloke like me can't so much as walk past an open door that has a toddler inside without getting accused of pedophilia.
[When they get to a dead end that seems to mostly be your standard box-sized employment offices, he takes a seat on a cushion-lined metal bench that rests across one wall.]
It's just what came up. I'm sure it has something to do with meaningful experiences blah blah blah, some kind of corny bullshit like that, but...
[Admittedly, he hasn't really left his "room" since he got it, but, nonetheless.]
Pretty sure I can come and go if I need to, just like anyone from one of their own hotel rooms. Kinda nice to be back, even if it's not much to look at. Memories and all that.
[He's not dealing with constant aggression in here, either. Not that most of it isn't earned, mind you.]
[That's been the oddest part about this whole experience, if she's being honest. She's so... detached here. It's still hard to believe these things are actually real.]
I imagine it's nice to have a space all to yourself, too. That's something you could stock in the gift shop.
[Nathan is the manager of sex boat hotel, now.]
Private rooms, or at least a second bed. You'd think we'd get access to privacy under these conditions. Not that I would say no to an audience, but I don't like the thought that my roommate could crash my party at any given moment.
Fuck, maybe if I get real good at this, I can do all kinds of reality-bending insanity. Conjure up an amusement park and everything. Wouldn't that be something?
[He grins.]
But I'd settle for a bed, that's for fucking sure.
[She's so quietly concerned about you, Nathan??? Not because of the reasons other folks around here tend to cite, but like, where are you sleeping, buddy? Are you getting enough to eat? Quit popping wheelies in that wheelchair, or do you want to break your neck? It's the practical things. Self care is important.
Which... Oh, actually, that gives her an idea.]
You know how sometimes, when you're stuck in some place for some bullshit reason, you get to thinking about fucking someone there just to show it who's boss?
[She reclines against the bench back, watching him.]
[There's an instant, a single instant, where her statement hangs heavy in the air. And then he's on his fucking feet, seemingly before he's even processed his own response. She's cool as a cucumber and he looks like he's just woken up on Christmas morning, his whole body tense with enthusiastic energy.
He's completely forgotten, at least for the moment, that banter is a thing that they, you know, generally play into in this kind of situation.]
I've got a loft!
[He nods his head back toward where they came, past all the doors and various community accommodations, where the main room is.]
[She can't help but grin at that reaction. It'd be tiring except that he's so earnest about it. Most men try to downplay the fact that they spring wood at the first sign of snapper.
She rises to follow him back down the hallway. She has an inkling that "loft" is generous, but she was expecting to be bent over some desk or a locker room bench. She's not that picky.
Hm... While they've got a bit of a walk:]
Now that you're running this show, were you able to get your hands on a lighter?
[Well, not complaining that much. He fishes one out of his pocket, gives it a twirl between his fingers.]
No more stove-top woes for me!
[When they get back to the open hall, Nathan bounces a few extra steps until he swings himself onto a set of metal stairs, leaning against the railing. He holds out a hand to lift her up as if it isn't a normal-sized staircase.]
[But she laughs, and fishes her own shiny new lighter out of her pocket. They match! She waggles it at him, and then back in the pocket it goes.
She can't help but smile as he offers his hand, which she readily takes. It's a nice touch. That's the thing about Nathan that the others don't seem to get: He's odd, but he means well. He has it in him to be sweet and helpful and just good fucking company once you show him he can let his guard down. It doesn't take much.]
[And she did maybe a passable job. I mean, given how he talks to other men, at least. Nathan can't stop smiling as he follows her up the stairs. At the top, well, it's basically a small metal platform that a makeshift bed has been made out of using whatever soft things he could find.
[He knows she isn't. He knows it's nothing to look at, but what else is he supposed to do? If he doesn't try to face somehow, then he just has to be self-pitying, and what would that do for either of them? Nathan leans back against the railing.]
[He's tall, which is moderately annoying if only because she can't quite pull her little trick of cozying up all close and then whispering against his lips just to watch him squirm. Instead, she settles for letting him pull her into him, her body pressed against his.]
Well, aren't I special?
[Said with the tone of, yes, of course she is. Maybe it's true or maybe it isn't, but she wants to bask in the thought of being his favorite. He doesn't have to fuck her, after all. He's exempt from the rules—which means this might not even count toward said rules, she realizes, but that's not precisely why she's here, anyway. This is good, clean fun.
One hand reaches to tug at his collar, pulling him down into a kiss.]
[It's the first time that he's felt alive since he woke up on this boat. Sure, he's been an example of himself, menacing as many people as he could manage at a time, saying things he knows are gross or uncomfortable or unsettling to others. Generally refusing to follow the general rules of courtesy.
But there have been a lot of things on his mind, just like everyone else. The things that he's missing at home, what he may be coming back to...or lack thereof. Kelly...God, Kelly. It's easy to think about his friends, in this place--their place. Thinking about them is like tearing himself open.
But now, Katy has her lips on his and he holds her with steadfast hands, his mouth eager and greedy and passionate as he quickly encourages the heat that they're sharing. This is something, at least, that he knows how to do.
Nothing else matters right now.]
gotta get urself some artful no eyes crops like this terrible icon (i am not good at artful crops)
[Attaboy. She rolls her body against his, deciding whether she'd like to take this fast or slow... Mm, best to start slow, take their time, get to know each other. Even if the community center's a piece of shit and they're about to fuck in a hobo pile, it's nice to be somewhere other than the ship. This place is some kind of home to Nathan, and that's worth something. They ought to savor it.
She pulls her hands away just long enough to shrug off her jean jacket—just because she's content to take their time doesn't mean they need to beat around the bush. Then, she's back on him, fingers slipping up under the hem of his shirt.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polyapathy) wrote2019-10-12 09:59 pm
no subject
[He finally gets up off his stupid ass. As the lady commands. He starts forward, and though his eyes flick toward the word tattooed on her skin, he says nothing as he begins his tour. He sort of winces to himself as he realize there's hardly much to look at, but nonetheless carries on with his usual brand of enthusiasm.]
Locker rooms are over here, where yours truly spent many a day donning a lovely orange jumpsuit, perfect color for autumn.
no subject
I take it you weren't just sporting a jumpsuit because it brought out your eyes.
[She noticed that he noticed her lovely new tattoo, but she doesn't care. It's not like she's made any attempts to hide it.]
no subject
[He gives her an almost imploring look that makes him seem more full of shit than ever.]
no subject
Can you still swear on your life when you're immortal?
[But either she believes him or she doesn't care all that much. It's not as if she always operates above the law herself.]
no subject
[But he smiles at the sound of her laughter, beaming as he continues on down the hallway.]
There's some kind of day care room down this way, though I've never really been in it--don't get me wrong, I don't mind kids or nothin, but a bloke like me can't so much as walk past an open door that has a toddler inside without getting accused of pedophilia.
no subject
[She stubs out her cigarette on the wall (since it doesn't seem to matter) and catches up to walk next to him.]
Did you get a choice in scenery when you picked your little corner of whatever this place is?
no subject
[When they get to a dead end that seems to mostly be your standard box-sized employment offices, he takes a seat on a cushion-lined metal bench that rests across one wall.]
It's just what came up. I'm sure it has something to do with meaningful experiences blah blah blah, some kind of corny bullshit like that, but...
[He scoffs.]
Not exactly a lot of atmosphere.
no subject
Are you stuck here now?
no subject
[Admittedly, he hasn't really left his "room" since he got it, but, nonetheless.]
Pretty sure I can come and go if I need to, just like anyone from one of their own hotel rooms. Kinda nice to be back, even if it's not much to look at. Memories and all that.
[He's not dealing with constant aggression in here, either. Not that most of it isn't earned, mind you.]
no subject
I imagine it's nice to be somewhere familiar.
[That's been the oddest part about this whole experience, if she's being honest. She's so... detached here. It's still hard to believe these things are actually real.]
I imagine it's nice to have a space all to yourself, too. That's something you could stock in the gift shop.
[Nathan is the manager of sex boat hotel, now.]
Private rooms, or at least a second bed. You'd think we'd get access to privacy under these conditions. Not that I would say no to an audience, but I don't like the thought that my roommate could crash my party at any given moment.
no subject
[He grins.]
But I'd settle for a bed, that's for fucking sure.
no subject
[She's so quietly concerned about you, Nathan??? Not because of the reasons other folks around here tend to cite, but like, where are you sleeping, buddy? Are you getting enough to eat? Quit popping wheelies in that wheelchair, or do you want to break your neck? It's the practical things. Self care is important.
Which... Oh, actually, that gives her an idea.]
You know how sometimes, when you're stuck in some place for some bullshit reason, you get to thinking about fucking someone there just to show it who's boss?
[She reclines against the bench back, watching him.]
Show me where you're thinking about fucking me.
no subject
He's completely forgotten, at least for the moment, that banter is a thing that they, you know, generally play into in this kind of situation.]
I've got a loft!
[He nods his head back toward where they came, past all the doors and various community accommodations, where the main room is.]
no subject
She rises to follow him back down the hallway. She has an inkling that "loft" is generous, but she was expecting to be bent over some desk or a locker room bench. She's not that picky.
Hm... While they've got a bit of a walk:]
Now that you're running this show, were you able to get your hands on a lighter?
no subject
[Well, not complaining that much. He fishes one out of his pocket, gives it a twirl between his fingers.]
No more stove-top woes for me!
[When they get back to the open hall, Nathan bounces a few extra steps until he swings himself onto a set of metal stairs, leaning against the railing. He holds out a hand to lift her up as if it isn't a normal-sized staircase.]
After you.
no subject
[But she laughs, and fishes her own shiny new lighter out of her pocket. They match! She waggles it at him, and then back in the pocket it goes.
She can't help but smile as he offers his hand, which she readily takes. It's a nice touch. That's the thing about Nathan that the others don't seem to get: He's odd, but he means well. He has it in him to be sweet and helpful and just good fucking company once you show him he can let his guard down. It doesn't take much.]
Aren't you the gentleman?
no subject
[And she did maybe a passable job. I mean, given how he talks to other men, at least. Nathan can't stop smiling as he follows her up the stairs. At the top, well, it's basically a small metal platform that a makeshift bed has been made out of using whatever soft things he could find.
It's definitely the nest of a homeless person.]
no subject
Do you live here?
[She's not judging, just sad for him.]
no subject
[He knows she isn't. He knows it's nothing to look at, but what else is he supposed to do? If he doesn't try to face somehow, then he just has to be self-pitying, and what would that do for either of them? Nathan leans back against the railing.]
no subject
You ought to see about magicking yourself up a real mattress, at least.
[She moves to stand in front of him, reaching forward to grab the railing on either side of him. Hey.]
Not that I've got qualms with fucking on the floor.
no subject
I'll have to see what I can do for next time.
[This hasn't even happened yet and god he hopes there's a next time.]
Your comfort is my top priority.
no subject
[He's tall, which is moderately annoying if only because she can't quite pull her little trick of cozying up all close and then whispering against his lips just to watch him squirm. Instead, she settles for letting him pull her into him, her body pressed against his.]
Well, aren't I special?
[Said with the tone of, yes, of course she is. Maybe it's true or maybe it isn't, but she wants to bask in the thought of being his favorite. He doesn't have to fuck her, after all. He's exempt from the rules—which means this might not even count toward said rules, she realizes, but that's not precisely why she's here, anyway. This is good, clean fun.
One hand reaches to tug at his collar, pulling him down into a kiss.]
time for the No Appropriate Icon game
But there have been a lot of things on his mind, just like everyone else. The things that he's missing at home, what he may be coming back to...or lack thereof. Kelly...God, Kelly. It's easy to think about his friends, in this place--their place. Thinking about them is like tearing himself open.
But now, Katy has her lips on his and he holds her with steadfast hands, his mouth eager and greedy and passionate as he quickly encourages the heat that they're sharing. This is something, at least, that he knows how to do.
Nothing else matters right now.]
gotta get urself some artful no eyes crops like this terrible icon (i am not good at artful crops)
She pulls her hands away just long enough to shrug off her jean jacket—just because she's content to take their time doesn't mean they need to beat around the bush. Then, she's back on him, fingers slipping up under the hem of his shirt.]