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 Posted: Mon Nov 19, 2018 7:50 pm
Eric could be a spontaneous romantic. He did know how to woo someone. And today of course the one he wanted to woo was...well. The one he was dating. He had gone to the store and picked up some sandwiches, some potato salad and some macaroni and cheese and had grabbed a huge sudoku book as well.
Hopefully Virell even liked Sudoku...but...he liked numbers. And puzzles so...it had seemed like a good idea.
Eric had been...more nervous about this impromptu date than he would have liked to admit...he hadn’t exactly called or even...even texted to see if Virell was home, and now he had butterflies in his stomach and he had worked so hard to make his sherbet colored hair look just the perfect amount of fluffy and curly. Honestly, Eric had put more effort in his appearance today than he had for any of his past photo shoots. He always looked good...but today…
Hell. Today he just wanted to impress Virell.
Badly.
He made it to the apartment that he had walked the blonde to the other day and drew in a breath, knocking lightly on the door.
It was now or never...either this would be a great day…
Or Virell wouldn’t be home.
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:28 am
Virell was home, trying to tend to the busy life of a student. He had math books and papers spread out across the living room floor. He hadn't been expecting company so the knock was a surprise; he was dressed in an oversized sweater and shorts, and his hair was piled on top of his head in a messy bun. He must have had to remarkable balance to move around with it as it was, but he wasn't dressed up for anyone.
He was just trying to get some things done.
He contemplated not answering the door at all, but he'd had his music playing too loudly to convince anyone that there was no one home. He debated for a few seconds before he turned off his music, pushed himself up from the ground, and walked to the door.
The solid sound of a lock being lifted cleared the silence left in the wake of his paused music, and he swung the door open as if he expected it to be his neighbor asking him to help her reset her television settings (again).
Instead, there was Eric, and Virell was standing in front of him in garbage clothes, with garbage hair, and a garbage face, with his garbage house in plain sight behind him.
Suddenly terrifyingly self conscious, he hurled himself over the threshold and into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "Eric!" he greeted, both happy and alarmed. "What a surprise! What are you doing here?"
Eric's house had been so homey, so cute, so welcoming.
Virell had nearly no decorations. He had a television, a couch, a lamp. There were cardboard boxes with things he'd accumulated--awards, magazines he was in, old text books. Things that made up his life, but weren't important enough to him to display. There were no photographs, no happy memories, hung upon the wall to remind him of a family he should have missed.
Barefoot and flustered, he looked up at Eric and forced a quick smile; he certainly wasn't unhappy to see him, but he knew how inadequate his apartment was, especially when compared to Eric's cozy little abode.
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:33 am
Eric grinned when he saw Virell, and his eyes had lit up when he saw the surprise on the blonde’s face. It was just how he had wanted him to be only...only he hadn’t expected Virell to come outside...and slam the door.
Suddenly, Eric felt a pang of self consciousness and he swallowed, wondering if this had really been the great inspired idea that he had first thought that it was…
“Well, I knew you were busy studying today and I just thought you might want a little lunch break so I got us some sandwiches and sides and...I got you a little present for when you’re taking other breaks and...I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”
His voice was soft and a little unsure. “If you’re busy or...I mean...if you just want me to drop this off, that’s fine...I should have called I didn’t mean to startle you…” Virell looked so good. Eric suddenly wished fervently that he had spent even more time on his own appearance...or that he had this natural look that Virell had going for him. “You look amazing, you know. I really can’t quite figure out why Frank thought I would be better for Superstar...he’s an idiot. And giving you the shoot was the best decision of my life.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:38 am
Virell was still trying to piece together everything that Eric was saying, trying to decipher those uncertain looks, the hesitance in his voice. He was doing something wrong, even if everything Eric was saying seemed to deny such.
"Eric," he said, more flattered with those compliments than he had been at nearly anyone else's. Without making, the faint flush that coated his cheek was visible. "That's all very kind of you. I wasn't expecting company, it's just--my place is a mess."
...And he was standing out here, barefooted, in little more than pajamas. "Uhm." He glanced back at his apartment door as if it had betrayed him.
"--You stopped by just to bring me lunch?" he had to ask again, as if the thought really just sank in. He almost seemed giddy and shifted positions. "I mean, that's really sweet enough, you don't have to butter me up with all those nice words. I haven't even brushed my hair yet, and my clothes are all wrinkly and--"
And he hesitated; he'd been tugging at the hem of his s**t, pulling it down and fidgeting with it. He had to stop himself and he forced himself to look back up. He chanced a small smile. "Eric, you're just such a sweet guy. You make me feel very good about myself. I was actually thinking that maybe I should take a break soon, all the numbers are starting to look the same. Uhm."
He tilted halfway and rested his hand on his doorknob.
"...My neighbors will judge me if they see me like this. If I invite you in, do you promise not to judge me too badly?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:46 am
Eric nodded and swallowed hard. “That’s okay, I don’t need to come in, I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay, that you were comfortable and happy…” He managed a smile and reached a hand out to softly cup the blonde’s face. “Of course I brought you lunch. You work so hard and you deserve to be pampered once and awhile. And I wanted to make sure you were eating.”
His fingers lightly traced over the blonde’s cheekbones and he couldn’t stop the rather stupid smile that spread across his face just by drinking in the sight of Virell. “...You know, you are just...I can’t even believe that someone like you has consented to be with me. It baffles me utterly.”
When he seemed to be relenting the male’s eyes lit up and he nodded cautiously. “You...are you sure? Because I don’t want you to think I’m being a pest just...barging in, I really don’t have to come in if you’re self conscious, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”
He seemed eager though and nodded in spite of his words. “I would never judge you for anything, Vi. You should know that by now.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:50 am
Virell instinctively rested his cheek against Eric's hand; he was a creature who thrived with physical contact, if only because it was something he understood. Physical, tangible evidence of affection, more earnest than words. He could read a person's body language better than he could untangle a web of lies and sweet words. But Eric, be it with words or actions, always seemed so sweet. So pure.
Virell didn't feel very pretty right now, and here was Eric, admiring him with such earnesty that it made his heart flutter. Butterflies danced in his stomach and he had to keep his lips pursed for a few seconds until he knew that when he opened his mouth they wouldn't just fly right out.
Oh, he was such a fool.
"You're not a pest. This was really sweet of you. I was just studying," he confessed in a whisper, as if afraid someone might overhear. He reached his hand behind him. It hovered over the doorknob for a long moment and the little voice that screamed for self preservation said, loudly, don't do it.
...But what was life without risks? Better to cut him loose now if he had to lose him at all. Before he got even more attached.
Virell drew in a breath and half turned to open the door to his apartment. He pushed it open and walked in first, leaving it open for Eric.
He kept his back to him and went to the kitchen to get plates or drinks or--or something, just to seem busy. He didn't want to see Eric's expression, didn't want to see any disappointment or disapproval or doubt.
Virell's apartment was empty, devoid of personality, devoid of warmth, devoid of happiness. The textbooks and papers he was working on were spread around the living room and the television was on the weather channel. Really though, there was next to no individuality; there were no decorations, no photographs, no memories to preserve. It didn't seem like he was a minimalist; his closet was full of clothes and his bathroom full of makeup.
It just seemed like he didn't have anything special outside of that--and, even then, those were arguably necessities for work.
He had a lump in his throat and had to clear it before he could speak. "Can I get you something to drink?" he called from the kitchen.
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:56 am
Eric walked in behind Virell and looked around the apartment almost eagerly, his heart beginning to pound heavily in his chest. “You...have a cute little place, Vi.” It wasn’t...not really. It was sad more than anything and honestly Eric wanted nothing more than to bring in his good sense of style and make this place into a more homey environment for the blonde that he knew he was rapidly falling for. His eyes slid over the books and papers on the floor and he smiled softly, though walked over to where Virell stood and wrapped loving arms around his waist after placing his offerings on the counter. Quietly he buried his face against Virell’s neck and kissed the tender flesh softly.
“Do you move around a lot? Or are you just afraid to put down roots in case you’re forced to move around?”
Belatedly he realized that he had no right to say such things, and that Virell might take them as an insult, and his arms tightened around the male a little more. “...I’m not saying I don’t like it. It just...doesn’t feel like what I thought your home would look like...it doesn’t look like...I don’t know. I want to get you blankets and soft things so it looks more like a home…” Eric was desperately trying to backpedal, almost terrified that Virell would throw him out of the apartment now.
“But, you make it a home, so...I like it.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:56 am
Virell had held his breath until Eric spoke, and even then he found his heart pounding with dread.
It wasn't a cute little place. It was empty and barren, because despite all his fashion sense, Virell had never grown out of thinking that he might have to move at any moment, shuffled from one house to the next. It wasn't a home, even if he might try to call it that. This was a place where he lived.
The embrace, the kiss, was reassuring; Eric wasn't immediately off put by the place, but the questions made Virell struggle to determine just how to answer.
"I did when I was a kid," he said after a few seconds. "Move around, I mean. I've been here since I moved out, but...I guess I just...never got into the mindframe that it was my place. I mean, I've been in plenty of homes, but...I never figured out how to make one of my own. A home was always somewhere with, you know, a family."
He could have answered that he did it for business, that he invested all his money in his career and education, but...
It was a lie and even with outs he was struggling to think of something believable.
So he told the truth--or, at least, part of it. "...I know there's not anything really special or nice about this place. It was cheap, and I was desperate, and I had my own room and...I mean, that was all I needed, you know? I have a fridge with food, I have a television, a couch. It's--I know it's not fancy. It's not really welcoming. It's ugly," he said bluntly. "...I guess I just got used to all of those things and...never thought I..."
What, deserved more? Needed more? His whole life he had wanted a home, a real home. People to love and accept him.
And when he hadn't gotten those, he just settled for 'a place to sleep at night'.
He shrugged. "It's complicated. But I know it's ugly, you don't have to lie to me," he almost snorted. "It's not like you're calling me ugly. But. Yeah, I. I mean, your place is so much nicer. I was worried that if you saw my place you might think, I don't know. Less of me."
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:58 am
Eric seemed thoughtful and then shook his head. “I could never think less of you, Virell. It doesn’t make me feel less of anything…it just makes me want to work hard to make this a home for you. I want to spoil you with cute pillows…and dumb pictures for your walls, and soft blankets to drape over your couch…it just makes me want to take care of you even more than I already wanted to.”
He shrugged and went back to suckling the male’s neck for a long moment.
“…It only endears you to me even more. It makes me want to do all I can to see that you’re taken care of, Virell.”
Eric finally stopped his kissing and rested his cheek on the male’s shoulder, nuzzling softly. “We can make this place a home…if you’d be at all interested. I want to help…if that’s not too forward…or creepy. Or…annoying.”
Or out of place, or presumptuous or any other terrible thing he could think of.
“I just want to see you be happy, Vi. So badly.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:58 am
Virell paused, interested in the offer but also a bit wary. Homes could be taken away; you could find a place, fall in love, and be shifted from one house to the next in a matter of a few hours. In some ways, he'd tried to distance himself from anything meaningful out of fear that he could lose this.
But...he was an adult now. He had his own career, his own place, his own life.
What was the harm in a few decorations?
He shifted positions, tilting his head to the side as he contemplated--and, in his own way, silently demanded more attention for his neck.
“...Cute pillows? If I said yes, I’m afraid I might wind up with silly looking pictures of dogs on my blankets and pillows.”
...Not that he was complaining. A gift from Eric could be the ugliest colors in the world and he would probably still love it.
“I might let you decorate a bit. I don’t have family photos,” he said, and there was a bit of hesitation, a bit of sadness in the confession. “...But, perhaps, you could draw some for me and we can hang them up.” He tried to cover it up with a joke, with something teasing. Something distracting.
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 11:59 am
Eric was quiet, lazily running his fingers through the male’s hair, pleased when his neck was exposed and taking full advantage of it, kissing and suckling the flesh with an almost desperation. He continued for a long few moments, and then pulled away, nuzzling the male’s cheek. “Cute pillows, maybe not dogs…do you like dogs? We could do dogs. I don’t mind. I just mean things with color…things that are soft and fluffy. That you look forward to wrapping around you to keep out the chill…things…that you’ll want to keep with you, and to carry around from room to room…”
He cupped the male’s cheek. “Things that will help you to think of me…when you’re lonely.”
The male seemed thoughtful at the confession, but nodded. “We’ll get paintings then. And pictures of the city…I have some really nice ones from back home, of the mountains and wintertime—they’re beautiful. I’d gladly get them framed for you. And…you and I can take pictures…and maybe one day, we can be a family.”
Or have a family. It was too soon to mention that though.
“Besides…aren’t friends already family? In this day and age, sometimes they’re closer than your family.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 12:00 pm
”I’ve never had a dog,” Virell said easily. “Honestly, they scare me, just a bit. Except for the small ones, or the fluffy ones. But you seem like someone who loves everything,” he laughed softly, unable to hide his smile. He turned to look at Eric, pleased with the contact--with the tingling on his neck, or the way Eric’s touch felt on his face.
“Why are you so kind to me?” he asked a few seconds later; it wasn’t a real question, just an airy thought, like he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Like he couldn’t imagine that people entered this world as pure and kind as Eric.
He leaned closer to steal a kiss.
“You don’t have to get anything framed for me. I meant, you could make me something. And I would hang it on my wall, and look at it and love it because it came from you. But we could take photographs together. I mean,” he laughed. “We’re good at it. Maybe. Ah, no, that’s such a silly idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I was going to propose a party, and I could invite all my friends over, we could take pictures and I could hang them on my wall. But then I’d have to decorate before they got here, and,” he seemed a bit discouraged and his nose wrinkled. “I’d have to clean. Carlee’s the only one who really comes over, and she knows I’m a disaster. If we decorate, it has to be red, though.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 12:00 pm
“You did seem more like a cat person to me, honestly. Something quiet that will just curl up in your lap while you’re working on your homework…and something that will get annoyed when you don’t give it enough attention. I think you’d get along well with a beautiful golden cat.”
The male grinned mischievously and then hesitated at the next question. “Well…It’s because I’m falling in love with you, obviously. And because I enjoy spending time with you…and I just like to see your smile…”
Eric melted at the kiss, his arms wrapping around the male’s waist and pulling him closer, nodding and resting lightly against him as he spoke of a party and photographs and his friend Carlee. “I think that would be fun. To have the three of us decorate your apartment…I want to meet your friend. I want to do so much with you, Vi…I want to ask though, why red? You just like the color?”
It would make sense, he had the most beautiful red eyes that Eric could get utterly lost in. His own crimson eyes were pretty, but there was just something…special about Virell’s.
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 12:01 pm
For a second, Virell faltered with the uncertainty of sharing a flaw. He wanted Eric to think he was perfect, to think he was irresistible and desirable on every level.
One imperfection might not bother him, but if they kept adding up, how long would it take to drive him away?
But then...was color sensitivity such a terrible thing, so awful that it might drive him away?
"I do like the color, it's my favorite." He drew in a breath and said as calmly as he had ever confessed an abnormality, "I'm color blind. I have this thing called tritanopia. So I don't see some colors very well, but everything looks a little more red to me. So, red is my favorite color. I don't really know what blue or yellow looks like, just different shades of red. I can sort of see green. But it's not really my favorite. Just red. But, uhm. It's not a big deal or anything. You're probably right about the cat."
He wasn't sure if he was trying to change the subject or not and sheepishly tucked some hair behind his ear. It wasn't like him to be shy, and yet here he was, standing in his own home, feeling like a fool. He wasn't dressed as nicely as he should have been, his hair was a lopsided mountain atop his head, his notes were all over the floor of his unimpressive and lonely home, and here he was talking about something that made him imperfect.
...And Eric was still standing in front of him and looking at him like he was the most wonderful thing in the world.
"...I might have been a cat in a past life, that sounds like a nice way of living. All the attention, you get to push yourself into someone's lap and they have to pet you, adore you. You can sleep in the sun and stretch out. I could live like that, I think. I do like being the center of attention."
Despite being a weak attempt to lead out of one conversation and into another, It was an honest confession, even if it seemed like a strangely vulnerable one. He was flashy, he was confident.
...He was a pretender and an imposter.
But Eric made him want to push back the layers he'd built up for himself, to work around the secrets and lies.
Eric made him want to believe that it was worth it to take that risk, to take a chance and open up, even if it meant there was some possibility of being hurt.
...But Eric was an angel, was it even possible for him to hurt anyone?
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 12:02 pm
Eric paused and then looked rather impressed, though a little confused. “...That’s wild! I didn’t realize that colorblindness could present itself like that.” Hie watched Virell for a long moment, and then grinned broadly. “Thank goodness I have hair that you can see the color of yeah? It’s...kind of sherbet-y…” He reached up and pulled at one of the wavy strands, pursing his lips. “I could dye it if that would help you see it better. I mean...the color is what draws most of the agents to use me...but.” He shrugged and glanced back at Virell.
Quietly he drew the male close and chuckled at the cat comment, nodding. “We should get one if we ever decide to move in together. It could be fun. Hell, we should get one and just co-parent maybe.”
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