[ Sen is very good at what he does: talking. It's patter, for the most part. Used often because he enjoys it, or to distract the unwary mark, or to throw others off-balance - or, in this case, to lubricate a social situation. His storytelling eases the group from the awkwardness of Rin's Infamous First Impression and Enri's unwitting faux pas. (Haha - faux pas rien. He'll have to remember that.)
(What the fuck was Darius thinking, not warning the kid about Rin? Not warning the kid to avoid any insinuation that Rin is old? (Or did he know? Maybe he hit so close to home because he was aware, after all?) (That seems unlikely. Enri doesn't strike Sen as malicious. Just young and eager to please Daddy.))
So he tells his stories until even Rin is engaged, until even Darius can't help but throw out a comment or three.
Odd, though, that he can't seem to engage Enri. It could be that Enri doesn't feel comfortable, but watching the kid, Sen entertains the idea that it's something else. He notes a good deal: the way Enri's eyes drift away and back sharply, as though he hadn't meant to go wandering. The way noises and lights in the bar jar his attention away. The way he settles, serene and quiet, when Darius strokes his hair - as though it has a narcotic effect.
He's barely touching his drink. He's still nursing it when they all troop upstairs, long after he seats himself at Darius's feet. (Unprompted.) (Comfortable. Comfortable enough in their company to place himself on the ground as though it's his customary position.) (It probably is.)
It's warming. It's really rather warming. Darius's-
Hm. Sen is loathe to think of Enri as a Puppy. Or just a Puppy. This relationship is different, isn't it? He recalls past assignations with clarity: how Darius sneered over them. His imperiousness, the cold callousness of his dismissal. How even when they were permitted to sit at his feet like this, they never seemed to enjoy it. Or rather, there was an energy to those acts: a desperation to please Darius. Ambitious, those Puppies, hoping to rise above the ranks of the discarded. Hoping to be special, or to be given whatever favors Darius dangled before them. (Or ignored. Exiled with silence.)
Enri, however. He sits at Darius's feet without so much as a gesture from Darius, as though he wants to be there. As though it's only natural. Leaning his cheek against Darius's thigh and slipping into distance again, hazy and drifting, his eyes lighting now and then on décor, or on one of their faces. He isn't doing it to please Darius. He's doing it because he enjoys it. Certainly, that isn't outside the realm of possibility; God (non-Darius variety) knows there are plenty of people who love the submissive role. (But Darius doesn't seek submissives. Darius seeks boys to break.) (And yet. And yet. Here sits Enri, contentment all but emanating from him.)
While Rin picks up the thread of the tale, transitioning from his own chatter about the incident at the Guggenheim two weeks before to talk of Lavern Jaeger, Sen watches the boy (man?) (kid?) (how old is he, really?) and resumes his earlier wondering about the way Enri seems to only ease when Darius holds him in his focus. (When Darius demands his focus.) (There's something to that, something about the inattention. Enri isn't bored, or he'd have refused to come up. He'd be pissing and moaning the way Simon used to do.) (Not that Simon was ever in their apartment. He pissed and moaned no matter where they were.)
...Would he, though? Maybe Enri is bored. Or rather, even if he wouldn't deem himself 'bored', he isn't particularly entertained. Maybe Enri isn't able to engage with the current conversation, but is willing to sit here with them, languid, lounging affable and content, as long as he's being petted. And allowed to lose focus. As long as Darius kisses him.
(Another consideration: beyond speaking his piece - unless he has something wholly relevant to add - Enri does seem like he prefers to keep quiet. The genetics of Morgan Pendleton at play, there.)
(Fuck's sake, this kid is that golem's son.)
Strange.
Enri is raising his drink to his lips after another round of kissing that, on one hand, makes Sen want to threaten with the hose again. (On the other. On the other, it's rather pretty. Once one gets past the notion that this is Darius, and that the boy is definitely half his age, they do start to look rather good together. And the way Enri smiles up at Darius is going to do that shithead a world of good.) Sen doesn't notice Enri is watching over the rim of the glass, not drinking, until the kid speaks. ]
Isn't he the one that broke your nose?
[ He stares at Enri in a fit of indignation, thinking, you just had to bring that incident up, didn't you?
Thinking, you're a perfect little shit-stirrer to complement your shit-stirring boyfriend, aren't you?
And then - Wait. How could you know that? How the FUCK could you know that?
Because.
Because the only people who know that Lavern Jaeger broke his nose are in this room. (He's not certain Jaeger himself remembers the incident.) Because the only connecting detail in what's been said and the day Jaeger threw one good punch at Senan Wilkes was the five missing teeth. (Recompense for the one good punch.)
And the only time he has mentioned that in fifteen years -
Was in a text to Darius. (Darius, who handed his phone to Enri to take a photo while getting choked-and-likely-sucked-off.)
(Darius, who doesn't. Let. Puppies. Touch his phone.)
His annoyance slides away with an interesting realization.
Very interesting.
His eyes shift from Enri to the man draped over Enri.
Puppy has been reading Darius's texts.
Many, if not all, of them.
(Does that mean, he wonders, that Enri knows Darius wants to marry him?) (Does Enri know about Simon?) (...Has Enri seen Rin's glorious ankles? Oh, he hopes so.)
With a measure of ill-concealed glee, he replies. ]
Right you are. Jaeger is indeed the selfsame shit-flecked mental limp who broke my nose. The first time, mind you. Later incidents had nothing at all to do with him, because he could ill afford to lose five teeth each time he felt bold enough to take a swing.
[ He pauses and fixes Enri with a stare, which the boy meets without flinching. Innocent and unafraid.
In a lilting tone, he asks: ]
Have you been doing some light reading, Enri?
[ The accused glances up at Darius, then settles back once more, cheek to his Daddy's thigh, and blinks mildly at Sen, showing no sign of chagrin, no hallmarks of embarrassment.
(Fucking fascinating, is what this is.)
The boy takes another drink, and then seems to come to the conclusion that the question wasn't rhetorical - and shrugs. Pulls an unfazed expression that reeks of I don't see the problem, and fucking shrugs.
As though it's completely normal for him to read Darius's texts.
For a Puppy to read Darius's texts is unthinkable. To have any insight at all into Daddy's life is unheard of. To have more access than would be considered normal in any relationship, to hurdle boundaries with such casual indifference, is...insane. It's insane. He wouldn't believe it if he didn't have the proof here, now.
Amazing.
Sen leans his head to Rin's and tightens his arm about their shoulders. ]
Pookie, my love. My beautiful not-nothing.
I was almost convinced our newest number had some measure of telepathy, until I recalled mentioning that very incident in a text not three weeks ago. But as that text was not sent to the young man before us, I can only draw one conclusion: our Darius has it very, very bad for his doggy.
[ And then - abruptly changing tone and posture, he jolts himself to lean forward, gesturing angrily at Darius. ]
See here, you shit. He was not cleaning his gun, he was putting olive oil on it because he believed it would make the bullets go faster. He lost half a toe because I slapped his hand before I lost half a head. Let's keep all our facts in order, lest this poor young man walk out of this room tonight thinking Jaeger is possessed of the mental facilities to perform routine maintenance on a firearm.
[ A sound draws his eyes down, and he catches a flicker of-
Oh.
Well, fuck me, he thinks, feeling a curl of pleasant warmth. (Feeling rather gratified, in fact.)
no subject
(What the fuck was Darius thinking, not warning the kid about Rin? Not warning the kid to avoid any insinuation that Rin is old? (Or did he know? Maybe he hit so close to home because he was aware, after all?) (That seems unlikely. Enri doesn't strike Sen as malicious. Just young and eager to please Daddy.))
So he tells his stories until even Rin is engaged, until even Darius can't help but throw out a comment or three.
Odd, though, that he can't seem to engage Enri. It could be that Enri doesn't feel comfortable, but watching the kid, Sen entertains the idea that it's something else. He notes a good deal: the way Enri's eyes drift away and back sharply, as though he hadn't meant to go wandering. The way noises and lights in the bar jar his attention away. The way he settles, serene and quiet, when Darius strokes his hair - as though it has a narcotic effect.
He's barely touching his drink. He's still nursing it when they all troop upstairs, long after he seats himself at Darius's feet. (Unprompted.) (Comfortable. Comfortable enough in their company to place himself on the ground as though it's his customary position.) (It probably is.)
It's warming. It's really rather warming. Darius's-
Hm. Sen is loathe to think of Enri as a Puppy. Or just a Puppy. This relationship is different, isn't it? He recalls past assignations with clarity: how Darius sneered over them. His imperiousness, the cold callousness of his dismissal. How even when they were permitted to sit at his feet like this, they never seemed to enjoy it. Or rather, there was an energy to those acts: a desperation to please Darius. Ambitious, those Puppies, hoping to rise above the ranks of the discarded. Hoping to be special, or to be given whatever favors Darius dangled before them. (Or ignored. Exiled with silence.)
Enri, however. He sits at Darius's feet without so much as a gesture from Darius, as though he wants to be there. As though it's only natural. Leaning his cheek against Darius's thigh and slipping into distance again, hazy and drifting, his eyes lighting now and then on décor, or on one of their faces. He isn't doing it to please Darius. He's doing it because he enjoys it. Certainly, that isn't outside the realm of possibility; God (non-Darius variety) knows there are plenty of people who love the submissive role. (But Darius doesn't seek submissives. Darius seeks boys to break.) (And yet. And yet. Here sits Enri, contentment all but emanating from him.)
While Rin picks up the thread of the tale, transitioning from his own chatter about the incident at the Guggenheim two weeks before to talk of Lavern Jaeger, Sen watches the boy (man?) (kid?) (how old is he, really?) and resumes his earlier wondering about the way Enri seems to only ease when Darius holds him in his focus. (When Darius demands his focus.) (There's something to that, something about the inattention. Enri isn't bored, or he'd have refused to come up. He'd be pissing and moaning the way Simon used to do.) (Not that Simon was ever in their apartment. He pissed and moaned no matter where they were.)
...Would he, though? Maybe Enri is bored. Or rather, even if he wouldn't deem himself 'bored', he isn't particularly entertained. Maybe Enri isn't able to engage with the current conversation, but is willing to sit here with them, languid, lounging affable and content, as long as he's being petted. And allowed to lose focus. As long as Darius kisses him.
(Another consideration: beyond speaking his piece - unless he has something wholly relevant to add - Enri does seem like he prefers to keep quiet. The genetics of Morgan Pendleton at play, there.)
(Fuck's sake, this kid is that golem's son.)
Strange.
Enri is raising his drink to his lips after another round of kissing that, on one hand, makes Sen want to threaten with the hose again. (On the other. On the other, it's rather pretty. Once one gets past the notion that this is Darius, and that the boy is definitely half his age, they do start to look rather good together. And the way Enri smiles up at Darius is going to do that shithead a world of good.) Sen doesn't notice Enri is watching over the rim of the glass, not drinking, until the kid speaks. ]
Isn't he the one that broke your nose?
[ He stares at Enri in a fit of indignation, thinking, you just had to bring that incident up, didn't you?
Thinking, you're a perfect little shit-stirrer to complement your shit-stirring boyfriend, aren't you?
And then - Wait. How could you know that? How the FUCK could you know that?
Because.
Because the only people who know that Lavern Jaeger broke his nose are in this room. (He's not certain Jaeger himself remembers the incident.) Because the only connecting detail in what's been said and the day Jaeger threw one good punch at Senan Wilkes was the five missing teeth. (Recompense for the one good punch.)
And the only time he has mentioned that in fifteen years -
Was in a text to Darius. (Darius, who handed his phone to Enri to take a photo while getting choked-and-likely-sucked-off.)
(Darius, who doesn't. Let. Puppies. Touch his phone.)
His annoyance slides away with an interesting realization.
Very interesting.
His eyes shift from Enri to the man draped over Enri.
Puppy has been reading Darius's texts.
Many, if not all, of them.
(Does that mean, he wonders, that Enri knows Darius wants to marry him?) (Does Enri know about Simon?) (...Has Enri seen Rin's glorious ankles? Oh, he hopes so.)
With a measure of ill-concealed glee, he replies. ]
Right you are. Jaeger is indeed the selfsame shit-flecked mental limp who broke my nose. The first time, mind you. Later incidents had nothing at all to do with him, because he could ill afford to lose five teeth each time he felt bold enough to take a swing.
[ He pauses and fixes Enri with a stare, which the boy meets without flinching. Innocent and unafraid.
In a lilting tone, he asks: ]
Have you been doing some light reading, Enri?
[ The accused glances up at Darius, then settles back once more, cheek to his Daddy's thigh, and blinks mildly at Sen, showing no sign of chagrin, no hallmarks of embarrassment.
(Fucking fascinating, is what this is.)
The boy takes another drink, and then seems to come to the conclusion that the question wasn't rhetorical - and shrugs. Pulls an unfazed expression that reeks of I don't see the problem, and fucking shrugs.
As though it's completely normal for him to read Darius's texts.
For a Puppy to read Darius's texts is unthinkable. To have any insight at all into Daddy's life is unheard of. To have more access than would be considered normal in any relationship, to hurdle boundaries with such casual indifference, is...insane. It's insane. He wouldn't believe it if he didn't have the proof here, now.
Amazing.
Sen leans his head to Rin's and tightens his arm about their shoulders. ]
Pookie, my love. My beautiful not-nothing.
I was almost convinced our newest number had some measure of telepathy, until I recalled mentioning that very incident in a text not three weeks ago. But as that text was not sent to the young man before us, I can only draw one conclusion: our Darius has it very, very bad for his doggy.
[ And then - abruptly changing tone and posture, he jolts himself to lean forward, gesturing angrily at Darius. ]
See here, you shit. He was not cleaning his gun, he was putting olive oil on it because he believed it would make the bullets go faster. He lost half a toe because I slapped his hand before I lost half a head. Let's keep all our facts in order, lest this poor young man walk out of this room tonight thinking Jaeger is possessed of the mental facilities to perform routine maintenance on a firearm.
[ A sound draws his eyes down, and he catches a flicker of-
Oh.
Well, fuck me, he thinks, feeling a curl of pleasant warmth. (Feeling rather gratified, in fact.)
He made the kid laugh. ]