Occasionally, Darius calls him back again with a word in his ear, earning a little grateful, adoring smile - a flash of teeth and a breathed word. But otherwise, it's nice to sit here, listening to the tones of Sen's story, countered by the reverb of Darius's voice. It's nice that even Rin is trying to include him, in a way.
It's nice to have a hand caressing his hair, lulling him, so that the bar sounds become less prominent, and all that matters is their little sphere.
Soon enough, the feeling of unhappy guilt, of being stranded and (bad) having erred, ebb to nothing. A sense of near-contentment begins to warm his chest, and once, he reaches for his drink to let the honey-toned whiskey further ease him.
Of course he's being patient. He wanted a date with Darius, and he wanted to meet his friends; he's lucky to be here, even if there was a little hiccup.
And there's no rush. They'll go home tonight and play. Darius won't shout at him in the car, won't accuse him of insulting his friends, of being antisocial, of not engaging enough. (He never would. He's never raised his voice at Enri -
Ha. Never accused Enri of any wrongdoing, really. (Daddy loves me.))
With the promise of that on the horizon, with Darius clearly happy to be here with his friends and his Puppy - shit. It all starts to feel pretty good.
Enri even finds himself listening a little more attentively now and then, able to readily - half intelligently, even - answer a question Sen sends his way. So it goes on, nice and nicer, with his head at Daddy's shoulder, the petting continuing comfortably.
Safe.
When Rin invites them upstairs, it's not an unwelcome idea. If Darius is having a good time, hey, why not. Enri's having an all right time, himself. (They'll have a better time at home.
Which isn't a reason to rush off. There's plenty of time for screwing around. He doesn't need to steal Darius from Rin and Sen to do it sooner.)
His answer comes first in the form of a brushed kiss and a loving smile. ]
Let's stay. I'm good with staying. I get you to myself all weekend.
[ And that's how he comes to be in the Renaults' apartment, marveling at all the places for sitting that don't really count as 'chairs'. It's how he takes up a pretty comfortable spot on the floor at Darius's feet, one of Daddy's legs over his shoulder, his cheek against Daddy's thigh and arm winding around his calf.
No one seems to mind.
And it's quiet in here, the sounds of the bar downstairs almost completely inaudible, even when the band starts up. There're lots of knickknacks scattered around, but nothing too distracting. This is, he gathers, where Rin and Sen come to escape the world, so of course the apartment is borderline serene in spite of its eclectic contents.
Not bad.
If he can sit like this and zone out a little now and then - just lose himself in cloudbanks of grey while they talk - then really, it's not much different from home, when he and Darius are lounging together between one frantic moment of play and the next.
no subject
Occasionally, Darius calls him back again with a word in his ear, earning a little grateful, adoring smile - a flash of teeth and a breathed word. But otherwise, it's nice to sit here, listening to the tones of Sen's story, countered by the reverb of Darius's voice. It's nice that even Rin is trying to include him, in a way.
It's nice to have a hand caressing his hair, lulling him, so that the bar sounds become less prominent, and all that matters is their little sphere.
Soon enough, the feeling of unhappy guilt, of being stranded and (bad) having erred, ebb to nothing. A sense of near-contentment begins to warm his chest, and once, he reaches for his drink to let the honey-toned whiskey further ease him.
Of course he's being patient. He wanted a date with Darius, and he wanted to meet his friends; he's lucky to be here, even if there was a little hiccup.
And there's no rush. They'll go home tonight and play. Darius won't shout at him in the car, won't accuse him of insulting his friends, of being antisocial, of not engaging enough. (He never would. He's never raised his voice at Enri -
Ha. Never accused Enri of any wrongdoing, really. (Daddy loves me.))
With the promise of that on the horizon, with Darius clearly happy to be here with his friends and his Puppy - shit. It all starts to feel pretty good.
Enri even finds himself listening a little more attentively now and then, able to readily - half intelligently, even - answer a question Sen sends his way. So it goes on, nice and nicer, with his head at Daddy's shoulder, the petting continuing comfortably.
Safe.
When Rin invites them upstairs, it's not an unwelcome idea. If Darius is having a good time, hey, why not. Enri's having an all right time, himself. (They'll have a better time at home.
Which isn't a reason to rush off. There's plenty of time for screwing around. He doesn't need to steal Darius from Rin and Sen to do it sooner.)
His answer comes first in the form of a brushed kiss and a loving smile. ]
Let's stay. I'm good with staying. I get you to myself all weekend.
[ And that's how he comes to be in the Renaults' apartment, marveling at all the places for sitting that don't really count as 'chairs'. It's how he takes up a pretty comfortable spot on the floor at Darius's feet, one of Daddy's legs over his shoulder, his cheek against Daddy's thigh and arm winding around his calf.
No one seems to mind.
And it's quiet in here, the sounds of the bar downstairs almost completely inaudible, even when the band starts up. There're lots of knickknacks scattered around, but nothing too distracting. This is, he gathers, where Rin and Sen come to escape the world, so of course the apartment is borderline serene in spite of its eclectic contents.
Not bad.
If he can sit like this and zone out a little now and then - just lose himself in cloudbanks of grey while they talk - then really, it's not much different from home, when he and Darius are lounging together between one frantic moment of play and the next.
Not bad at all. ]