ArchivedLogs:In the Neighborhood

In the Neighborhood
Dramatis Personae Eric, Shane
In Absentia	2013-03-04 After Doug, Eric comes over to clean up.
Location <NYC> 303 {Holland} - Village Lofts - East Village
<NYC> 303 {Holland} - Village Lofts - East Village This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late bright coloured sealife has made its way into being painted on the wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. As the morning begins and the sounds of the City begin to sound past the windows, there is a quiet knock on the door of 303. Standing in front of the peephole is Eric, looking quite mussed, in a chest-tight black shirt and white-stitched pair of black jeans. His eyes are looking up into the peephole with a warm smile, fingers drumming against one leg. Probably Shane should be in school right now. It /is/ exam week. But it'll be vacation in another two days and that REALLY means it's vacation NOW, right? At least, when he answers the door he is only somewhat dressed, black pajama pants and no shirt and so he's probably been sleeping in. He just -- blinks at Eric, a bit bemused. "The fuck are you doing here?" It doesn't sound angry. Just startled. "I was in the neighborhood." Eric says, with a smile, as his eyes take in the other man's appearance with a twinkle and a smirk. "Wanted to drop in and see if I could use your shower. If not, no big deal." he says, with a wide smile. He does, in fact, smell. Like sex. A lot of it. "And I wanted to see how your Pa was doing." Shane's nostrils flare, and there's a moment when he leans in towards Eric, before his lips curl up into a toothy smile. "You smell good," he answers, with a smirk, "Why would you want to wash that off?" "Because it's sticky," Eric says, with a chuckle and a shifting. "And I /like/ these pants clean. I don't want to have to wash them - they just came out of the laundry." he pouts at Shane, lip quivering. "And I /was/ going to go straight to the office, and I'd rather not use their showers there smelling like this. I've got enough of a reputation already." "Yeah, I'll /bet/ you do," Shane says, smirk still in place as he glances back over his shoulder. "My Pa isn't home. I don't know if you should really just come /by/, though. I mean, he doesn't actually, uh, like you much, you know." He isn't moving from the doorway, just leaning a shoulder against the doorframe and watching Eric through sleepily half-lidded eyes. "Alright." Eric says, taking a step back from Shane and lifting his hands in surrender. "Let your Pa know that he should give me a call, sometime. I wanted to let him know what I was hearing from my side about the case." he takes another step back and turns to glance down the hall. "I said he wasn't home," Shane says, his teeth flashing a little brighter as he opens the door wider. But then pauses, brows pulling downward. "-- Wait, what are you hearing from your side?" Eric glances back and forth and frowns, slightly. He heads into the apartment and turns to wait for Shane to close the door before he speaks. "My sergeant was telling me the brass was making a fuss about all the PR problems that it's causing them. That picture is very embarrassing to the mayor. They might want to make it all go away and just settle quietly... if he doesn't make it a bigger scene. I don't know how reliable the information is, but you should make sure it gets to your Pa." Shane does close the door, leaning back against it and running his claws through his spiky hair. "I don't think that's going to happen," he says, slowly. "I mean, this thing's not going to go away until someone challenges it. And it's hard to /get/ a more sympathetic case than saving /your kid/ and some pi -- uh, members of New York's /Finest/ and getting ticketed for it." Eric raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest, giving Shane a /look/ with a vague frown on his face. "Uh-huh." He glances around the room and then shrugs. "I mean, it's his business if he wants to appeal it. No skin off of my nose one way or the other. And, honestly, I don't think he's at risk from me and mine. It doesn't embarrass the force - just the brass." "I hope so. Cuz he gets enough shit from people recognizing him, he doesn't need to worry about getting batoned on his way to work." Shane still slumps against the door, straightening afterwards to move further into the apartment -- skimming /close/ by Eric on his way past. He moves to a closet, opening the door to get a large fluffy red towel out of it. "How come you didn't shower where you were?" "Someone's first time. Didn't want to give them the wrong impression." Eric drawls, stepping over to take the red towel gratefully from the other man. He glances around the hallway and slings it on his shoulder, heading down the hallway slowly, glancing door to door to try and find the bathroom. "Sometimes, it's just better to get out of there. I was thinking of going to the gym anyway, but..." he shrugs his shoulders. Shane snorts, glancing over his shoulder towards the door. "Someone in here? Jeez, I didn't think there were any virgins living in the East Village. Well. Uh. I mean, I guess my brothers but like everyone else in this building is fucking /old/." The bathroom door is just next to the linen closet, and Shane nudges it open with a toe. He leans against the wall beside the door, arms crossing lazily across his chest. "What are you talking about? You don't work out. You're just naturally like that." Eric laughs and shakes his head as he steps into the bathroom and immediately, unabashedly, strips off his shirt. He is facing away from the other man, showing an expanse of muscles that move underneath his skin as he folds the shirt and places it to one side, though he turns to face Shane. "Hey, the gym is a very good place to pick people up. And I look good through a lot of work, alright?" he says, wagging a finger and winking. Shane's grin curls wider. "It was a -- nevermind," he says, glancing back over his shoulder towards the front door. There's a moment of hesitation, his smile fading slightly, but it's back in place when he turns back around. His eyes sweep Eric's back, briefly, and then he straightens, slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.