1. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    He lingered, scooted close like a proper man by his beau in the dark of a theater. Watching the show with keen interest, sneaking affirmative kisses on the cheek, neck, downward to slope of shoulder. All the talk alongside the motions quickly revealed it to be a comedy. He huffed his laugh...
  2. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    The words tickled, teasing a crescent of teeth out of him. A bright little mm-hm reverberated behind their sharp points. He made sure to also congratulate himself for a great choice in dates, seeing as this one stepped up to the initiative so chivalrously, lending a hand. Their joined efforts...
  3. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    As if he needed any more encouragement. The eagerness almost made him laugh, the brightness of it in the grin he wore, lips closed. Didn’t do to chuckle now, overmuch — this was serious business. And he could be serious? Man, where’s my drink. “ No. You are not. “ He affirmed, continuing the...
  4. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    The caress was terribly pleasant. And sat down now as he was, he felt as an old house probably did when it settled down for the night. Cooling off, quieting down, timbers creaking. Had it a brain and the meats and the skeleton and— whatnot that living things had. Some capacity to feel old and...
  5. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    Nervous. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, barknight? He hummed something low, lingering by the door as a sort of giddy haze of just the right amount of drink settled into him, warming up every last of inch. For a couple seconds he couldn’t really but to smile stupidly, watching as Matvi moved...
  6. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    Ah, man. He gave no resistance. Let himself be lofted off his seat and pulled along like a small fry caught in a line. Reeled in, proper, quipless for what the man had whispered last. He wasn’t planning on painting shit. A sailor, a philosopher, but an artist? No. He looked past his shoulder...
  7. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    The admission of defeat was rather adorable, made it easy to welcome the man back where weight leaned against him. Forgetting his drink, he huffed adoration into Matvi's shoulder, touching lips to fabric. He didn’t rest there long, perking up sluggishly to the serving bartender’s laugh in a...
  8. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    Gears turned. Not his, though, all thought having bled to touch and blood that coursed hotter in it. He could keep up the pretense of paying attention to the game, providing those affirmative hums and haws, even if this whole matter of the pears weighed ever the less. Thankfully, none called him...
  9. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    With his date too eager to pay, he allowed the pleasure without missing a beat. As any chronically broke sailor would, trading off his arm for the man to drape about those angular shoulders any way he liked. Saved him the non-trouble of doing that too, all that weight sat on his lap ghosting...
  10. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    The cunt. Despite not knowing what it was about, he held on a little tighter, assuring. We’ll get her — he’d said what he’d said. And would watch with one eye as close as if he’d had two. “ Yeah, game. “ He hummed in a tap of the counter, all cordial smiles despite the general air of...
  11. Jens

    Open That other Horizon

    Come wake me? He stopped at the door and clapped a hand on his chest, the surprised delight of a swooned noblewoman blooming into his smile. “ How kind. Answers whatever I was going to ask next— “ No having to share a bed, for one. Or whether he should’ve taken to the floor to begin with. Not...
  12. Jens

    Open That other Horizon

    He got about as much out of the man as he’d expected. No response, just diversion. As one did when opposed by any old trick, he accepted it in a knowing smile. “ Oh, you think she likes me? ” He asked cheerfully, head cocking over-confidently as he swept a palm over the wrap like smoothing...
  13. Jens

    Open That other Horizon

    Like you or me? His brow arched, a gentle incomprehension. Or perhaps it was denial. Still, he hadn’t but to believe what he was told — wanted to, too. Was easier that way. “ Alright. “ He started, almost sure in the way he said it, despite the glances he’d yet throw for the darkness creeping...
  14. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    Whomever wouldn’t. Some prideless fucks, probably, bent to deprive the good folk of all drama and cat talk. Disgusting. He hummed low as any man being let in on secrets, look slipping from Matvi to this— Real deal. All that steady movement and vascularity on the arms and hands that knew work...
  15. Jens

    Private Sang the Fiddler's Bow

    The man made a circle around him and he stood, enjoying it. The steady trail of the touch as hand left his, freeing it to tap applause against the side of his chest for the band as the song drew to an end. A shortlived gesture before hands took again and held on. Tugged along. He yielded...
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