It's sometime in the late afternoon when Kit arrives outside the Medicine Seller's peculiar shop and home. He loiters outside a few paces away, finishing off his cigarette (working up his courage, maybe), before he at last strolls up to the door, casual as can be, and knocks.
"Hey, uh. It's Kit." A pause. "You there?"
Re: action | backdated to a little after the snow event
When Kit finally crosses the threshold, he'll find the Medicine Seller on a step stool, hanging some roots and herbs from a drying rack over the fire pit. He's dressed down for once, a breezy light blue yukata and no jewelry save for the bejeweled hairpin holding the mess of ashen hair in place.
He steps into the Medicine Seller's peculiar little sanctuary and immediately stops, his eyes are drawn to the slope of his friend's pale neck below that mess of hair. ...That is a good look for him.
(A couple especially vivid flashbacks accompany that look; he clears his throat.)
"No, no," he brushes off his concern with a quick hand gesture, a shake of his head, and stuffs his hands down into his pockets. "No trouble here." He smiles; maybe if he says it enough times he'll believe it. "If this is a bad time I can come back later, I just wanted to, um." To what, exactly? "Clear the air, about the other night."
The other really long, really extraordinary, other night.
He tilts his head, baring his throat deliberately. It seemed the air was reasonably clear where he stood. He had fun, he wouldn't object to doing it again.
His eyes narrowed, however, and there was the faintest expression of concern on his face.
"I know you have been through some... trouble. I hope I was not to forward and added more to your burden."
And predictably, Kit's eyes are drawn to the expanse of the Medicine Seller's throat, because he's just a man with needs, okay, cut a guy some slack here. (u damn flirt.)
"I know you have been through some... trouble. I hope I was not to forward and added more to your burden."
In response, Kit looks baffled for a moment. Then his eyes widen, and he shakes his head, waving off the Medicine Seller's concern quickly, and, "No, no, you didn't, not at all," comes bursting out of him. He takes a couple more steps into his friend's strange boudoir, but his eyes don't wander away from the man where he stands hanging the drying herbs. "It was... it was really good, salroka--great, even," he adds, his smile lopsided. Maybe a touch shy.
There's a 'but' coming, of course. There always is.
"It's just--it's a little soon, after Vandelin, for me to get into anything serious. You know?" Ancestors, he hopes he knows. He searches the Medicine Seller's face, so frustratingly inscrutable and also unreasonably attractive, and takes another little step closer to him. "But it was nice, not being alone for a little while."
There's an implicit invitation in those words; he's just having a damn hard time making it explicit.
"I would consider it unwise for either of us to get into anything... serious."
He was seated on the stepladder now, legs crossed and the corner of his mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. There were too many sharp edges for any of his expressions to be completely absent of menace, but there was something a little softer there.
It's the weird canine teeth that do it, and something in his eyes--but there's a softness there too that takes the threat out of the angular smirk. Kit smiles back, the expression small and a little sad. Strange how comforting the words are; someone enjoys his company, and it's that simple.
"You're not so bad yourself, you know," he says. He hooks his thumbs into his belt loops and takes a few steps closer until he stands near enough to where the Medicine Seller perches like some multicoloured, exotic bird of prey, near enough now to touch him, if he wants to.
(He does.)
Softly, he asks, "You got any plans tonight, salroka?"
Dealing with the Medicine Seller was rather like dealing with a stray cat. He could generally be bribed with food but mostly he'd come to a person if and when he damn well felt like it.
"I wonder..."
He reached out, letting his long nails brush Kit's cheek and then trace the solid outline of his jaw, down his throat and to his clavicle.
"It depends," he said, slow and even a little smug, "on how long you last."
Those nails could probably do a lot of damage to someone's cheek, if the Medicine Seller chose to wield them that way. Kit closes his eyes at the touch, then tilts his head in a way that grants his strange friend easy access to his throat and collarbone.
"It depends," comes that dry monotone response, with a coy note in it this time, "on how long you last."
His smiles wider, cracks his eyes open and raises both eyebrows. "Mm, trying to keep up with you?" he starts, a soft sound of enjoyment, and reaches out a hand to slip his fingers along the line of the Medicine Seller's jaw, stroking a thumb across his cheekbone. (His touch seems incapable of being anything but tender.) "I like a challenge."
Then he leans in to kiss his mouth--unless stopped, of course.
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action | backdated to a little after the snow event
It's sometime in the late afternoon when Kit arrives outside the Medicine Seller's peculiar shop and home. He loiters outside a few paces away, finishing off his cigarette (working up his courage, maybe), before he at last strolls up to the door, casual as can be, and knocks.
"Hey, uh. It's Kit." A pause. "You there?"
Re: action | backdated to a little after the snow event
When Kit finally crosses the threshold, he'll find the Medicine Seller on a step stool, hanging some roots and herbs from a drying rack over the fire pit. He's dressed down for once, a breezy light blue yukata and no jewelry save for the bejeweled hairpin holding the mess of ashen hair in place.
"You seem troubled."
no subject
(A couple especially vivid flashbacks accompany that look; he clears his throat.)
"No, no," he brushes off his concern with a quick hand gesture, a shake of his head, and stuffs his hands down into his pockets. "No trouble here." He smiles; maybe if he says it enough times he'll believe it. "If this is a bad time I can come back later, I just wanted to, um." To what, exactly? "Clear the air, about the other night."
The other really long, really extraordinary, other night.
no subject
His eyes narrowed, however, and there was the faintest expression of concern on his face.
"I know you have been through some... trouble. I hope I was not to forward and added more to your burden."
no subject
"I know you have been through some... trouble. I hope I was not to forward and added more to your burden."
In response, Kit looks baffled for a moment. Then his eyes widen, and he shakes his head, waving off the Medicine Seller's concern quickly, and, "No, no, you didn't, not at all," comes bursting out of him. He takes a couple more steps into his friend's strange boudoir, but his eyes don't wander away from the man where he stands hanging the drying herbs. "It was... it was really good, salroka--great, even," he adds, his smile lopsided. Maybe a touch shy.
There's a 'but' coming, of course. There always is.
"It's just--it's a little soon, after Vandelin, for me to get into anything serious. You know?" Ancestors, he hopes he knows. He searches the Medicine Seller's face, so frustratingly inscrutable and also unreasonably attractive, and takes another little step closer to him. "But it was nice, not being alone for a little while."
There's an implicit invitation in those words; he's just having a damn hard time making it explicit.
no subject
He was seated on the stepladder now, legs crossed and the corner of his mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. There were too many sharp edges for any of his expressions to be completely absent of menace, but there was something a little softer there.
"I do enjoy your company, however."
no subject
It's the weird canine teeth that do it, and something in his eyes--but there's a softness there too that takes the threat out of the angular smirk. Kit smiles back, the expression small and a little sad. Strange how comforting the words are; someone enjoys his company, and it's that simple.
"You're not so bad yourself, you know," he says. He hooks his thumbs into his belt loops and takes a few steps closer until he stands near enough to where the Medicine Seller perches like some multicoloured, exotic bird of prey, near enough now to touch him, if he wants to.
(He does.)
Softly, he asks, "You got any plans tonight, salroka?"
no subject
"I wonder..."
He reached out, letting his long nails brush Kit's cheek and then trace the solid outline of his jaw, down his throat and to his clavicle.
"It depends," he said, slow and even a little smug, "on how long you last."
no subject
"It depends," comes that dry monotone response, with a coy note in it this time, "on how long you last."
His smiles wider, cracks his eyes open and raises both eyebrows. "Mm, trying to keep up with you?" he starts, a soft sound of enjoyment, and reaches out a hand to slip his fingers along the line of the Medicine Seller's jaw, stroking a thumb across his cheekbone. (His touch seems incapable of being anything but tender.) "I like a challenge."
Then he leans in to kiss his mouth--unless stopped, of course.