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 Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 7:45 pm
"Yeah, well, if you got any complaints, we can always go for a round two," he suggested. He took a cig to his lips and cocked a brow as he noticed some more notes being taken. If he were a humble man, he'd be concerned by whatever was just written and curious to read it. But he was an arrogant man, and just assumed the notes read fantastic a**, amazing in bed, or something along those lines. "You know where all my clothes are at, bud? Not to cut you off from all these goods," he said, gesturing to his body.
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 8:05 pm
"I might have another five minutes to spare," he countered seamlessly, finishing his note before getting to his feet and drawing his boxer-briefs back up his hips. Enthusiastic as Wyatt had been, most of his clothing had ended up scattered around the room. Zeke took a moment to locate his pants, stepping into them, before looking up again. "In that supply cabinet, in the bin marked with your last name." He twitched his chin in the direction of the cabinet as he zipped and buttoned. His shirt was harder to find, wedged between the bed and the wall. He had to stretch over it, dig down until his fingers scrapped along the floor, before he managed to hook it.
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 8:22 pm
It was an action that Wyatt watched with a close eye as Zeke reached over, the movement highlighting the man's a**. It was nice - and worthy of more attention should there be a round two. Wyatt hopped off the bed and reached for his belongings in the bin. He frowned a bit. There was some dust on his hat. His old, beaten-up, dirty hat had a little bit of dust. Disappointing. He brushed it away and put it on first, before putting anything else on. He put on his jeans and boots, and left his undershirt hanging over his shoulder, and coat on the counter. He put away the bin and --- << It's enough that I had to be witness to your male deviance, but can you not ignore me entirely? >>Right, that old b***h. Wyatt retrieved the weapon and tossed her on the counter. And not so gently. "Gotta say, prefer this bed than the shithole bed I got in that dungeon room they hooked me up with," Wyatt started. "Literally, a dungeon. There's a damn torture rack and iron handcuffs in there. They're kinda rusty though, can't even put 'em to good use." He paused. "Er, the cuffs. Not the torture rack," he clarified. "I ain't that kinky."
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 8:38 pm
Zeke pulled his shirt over his head, took a moment to push his sleeves up over his elbows again, then reached for his coat before pausing. An odd, knowing little smile crossed his features as the mention of torture rack and iron cuffs, but instead of commenting he merely shook his head, laughing to himself. "Work hard, they'll move you all they way up to the pent house suites on the second floor." Broad shoulders rose in a lazy shrug, arms slipping into the sleeves of his coat. These two were pushed up. "Or you can keep an eye on the first floor and wait for someone to move, claim their old room before anyone knew can get it." Zeke himself had been lucky, he'd gotten one of the only open first floor rooms available at the time of his awakening. Hands disappearing into his pockets, he turned to face Wyatt. "A little oil would probably fix those cuffs up just fine. "He sounded like the voice of experience, and the little smile he was wearing did not hinder that image one bit.
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Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 9:17 pm
"I see. You should swing by sometime with some lube then," he winked. He took a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it out on the counter, because where else do you put a cigarette butt in an exam room? "It was good meetin' ya, doc," Wyatt stepped in close to Zeke, just a bit taller than the other man, and gave a light kiss farewell just shy of his lips as one hand grazed down his side to a light squeeze of the a**. "'Til next time." With that, Wyatt turned to head out, making sure that his own a** was worth watching out the door. Now it was back to reality - the daily grind. Ugh. Work.
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