ArchivedLogs:Playthings

Playthings
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Matt	2016-01-11 "{That, and no one would ever buy it with my sweet disposition and innocent smile.}" (Content note: discusses BDSM and also is generally short on Ethics.)
Location <NYC> Tessier Residence - Greenwich Village
Understated opulence claims this spacious and well-kept townhome, the decor throughout the whole of it of the highest quality and carefully chosen. The front door opens onto the entrance hall, a closet close at hand to receive coats and shoes -- the pale hardwood floors gleam underfoot, unsullied by tracked-in mess from outside. The living room beyond the entrance is all dark woods and pale earth tones, comfortable couches and armchairs and a thick soft rug laid down beneath. Two large and painstakingly aquascaped aquariums flank the entrance to the dining room, with several brightly coloured species of fish within. Most of the rest of the wall space, notably, is taken up with shelves -- shelves crammed with books of every subject and genre. A study branching off of the main hall is cozy, small, done in pale blues and lined with books as well around the large computer desk and smaller futon, though these rarer books are cased behind glass. Another securely locked door leads to the basement, and another to the full bathroom downstairs. The kitchen connects to the living room; in contrast, it is sleek and modern and well-appointed, stocked by someone who takes their cooking seriously. And takes their alcohol equally seriously -- to one side of the kitchen there is a fully-stocked bar. The back door to the kitchen looks out on a small well-kept garden. It's grown -- very late. With Sera's memorial service in the morning, possibly -- possibly many people would have taken the rest of the day /off/. And Lucien /had/ been home for a time after -- but once Gaetan went to a friend's house and Desi left with the twins there was -- work. An audition to get to, first. A client to see. And now -- late. He slips back upstairs quietly, locking the basement door behind him. Dressed in tight dark jeans and a white button down, tall boots on his feet, he trudges to the living room couch to slump down on it and start unlacing the boots. Matt had started a pot of tea the moment he heard Lucien coming up the steps. Leaving it to steep now, he joins his brother on the couch and wordlessly takes over unlacing his boots. He looks like he has just woken up, mouse brown hair all askew, dark green Hogwarts mascots t-shirt and faded, overlong blue jeans rumpled. "{Talk to me,}" he says softly, pulling off one boot and turning his attention to the other. Lucien's eyes close as he sinks back into the cushions, exhaling heavily. He gives up on his boots, tucking one foot up underneath himself as he lets Matt help him off with the other. "{Gods spare me inexperienced subs.}" Whether or not this is the Talking Matt is looking for -- well. "Tea?" "{More experienced /now/.}" There's a touch of amusement in Matt's weary voice. He tugs the other boot free and rub Lucien's foot absently. "Hua-lian Bao Zhong. {Have a little patience.}" There's no hint of admonishment in this. "{Patience, tch.}" Lucien's eyes drift over in the direction of /tea/. "{This is always the longest four minutes of my life.}" A small shiver passes up through him, a small touch of ease creeping into his posture. "{Honestly, though. Give me someone who knows what they like, any day.}" Matt glances down at his phone, screen coming to life only long enough to show the timer. "{Less than two minutes, now.}" He goes back to kneading the Lucien's foot. "{What if they like /being told/ what they like?}" The corner of his mouth twitches faintly. "{That would be too easy, wouldn't it?}" Lucien shakes his head ruefully. "{They all /say/ they want that. Refuse to make decisions when I try to get them to commit to concrete things in negotiation. And then /in/ scene --}" He exhales, sharp and heavy. "{The ones who actually do like that, though, they're rather a treat. It makes it so much easier when they --}" He trails off, here, a very small frown briefly creasing his brows. His hand lifts, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "{See that is why I don't Dom.}" Matt nods solemnly. "{That, and no one would ever buy it with my sweet disposition and innocent smile.}" His phone buzzes and he swipes the screen to still it, patting Lucien's leg so he can get up. Returning with two glossy green mugs a moment later, he sinks down beside his brother. "{When they what?}" "{... beg.}" Lucien's tongue clicks against his teeth. "It is all just acting anyway." He curls his hands around one of the mugs, leaning in against Matt's side and curling his other leg up beneath himself, now. "{Last month,}" he sounds just faintly more tired, "{Jackson's child tried to book an appointment for him. When we visited for Yule.}" "{I'm /also/ not a great actor. Unlike some people.}" Matt folds both of his legs up onto the couch and leans back against Lucien, inhaling the steam that rises from his tea. "{He has been pretty stressed, and in need of physical affection. You declined, though.}" There's no lift to his intonation, but it still comes out sounding like a question, if mild. "{He was falling apart. Perhaps still is.}" Lucien sounds somewhat noncommittal about this. "{Since his husband left --}" He shakes his head quickly. "{They were worried. He has ended his period of abstaining from physical contact without my help, regardless.}" His brows knit together, eyes fixing down on his hands. His fingers tighten against his mug. As if aware this is not an answer, after a hesitation he continues unprompted: "{... I declined.}" There's a brief ripple along the previously flat surface of his mind. He lifts his cup, taking a sip, though the tea is still far too hot -- not that he actually seems to notice or even feel its temperature. "{I've been worried, too, but he's so...determined to be all right. Sometimes makes him hard to even...reach.}" Matt tilts his head and studies Lucien out of the corners of his eyes, appraising. "{Why?}" Quiet, curious. The ripple in Lucien's calm settles so smoothly that it might be hard to tell whether it's even Matt's doing, except that he leaves some of the emotions to bleed through. There's a faint tremble in Lucien's hands, his tea sloshing slightly in its mug. His jaw tightens, hard. "He doesn't need me toying with him /here/ as well." Matt twists around to face Lucien now, eyebrows raised. "{How are you toying with him elsewhere?}" One of his hands curls around his brother's, warm from his own tea. Lucien swallows, twining his fingers through Matt's. A faint whisper of feeling leaks through the touch, tense and tight and /tired/. "{There will be few other chances,}" he answers softly, "{quite so well-constructed, with which to challenge that ridiculous law. Opportunities like that -- do not simply present themselves.}" Matt's eyes widen only a little -- not at once, but about a split second after Lucien finishes explaining. "Oh. {That's...}" His hand squeezes down harder. "{Not exactly what I'd call /toying/.}" But he doesn't disagree, either. "{Does he know?}" "/Hah/." Lucien breathes this out soft and sharp. Lifts his mug for another sip. "{I kept him out of jail for assault, I can certainly keep him out of jail for /saving/ a crowd of schoolchildren.}" "{I'm not worried you're going to let him go to prison.}" Matt says, just a little bit indignant. It's quite unnecessary to say aloud; he's calm enough, aside from the frayed background noise of grief that never goes away anymore. "{It seems unlikely for him to be convicted at all. Certainly they're not going to convict /Captain America/ along with him.}" His head droops to rest on Lucien's shoulder. "{At least not on the merits of his case alone. I just wish...it could be a fight of /his/ choosing.}" "{He's made it more than clear he's already /chosen/ to be a soldier in this war,}" Lucien's reply comes swift and smooth, though the mental landscape beneath his words is churning as he rests his cheek against the top of Matt's head. "{I'm only picking more effective battlefields on which to place him.}" Matt sighs heavily. "{He's chosen to fight the war, but he's no soldier.}" There's a tug of sadness, barely discernible against the pain of Sera's loss. "{Neither are /you./ I think he might well agree with you in this case anyway.}" The surface of Lucien's emotions ripples gently. "{/I/ agree with you, at least.}" "{/I/ am /certainly/ no soldier.}" Though /this/ is wry and amused. Lucien turns his head, pressing a kiss to Matt's temple. There's a push back against the twinge of sadness, a flush of warmth to counter it. Lucien shivers, his fingers squeezing tighter at Matt's. Quiet: "{Then what more could I need?}"