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Post by rhett damon halewile on Sept 1, 2011 10:30:27 GMT -5
  AND IT’S LIKE I CAN’T FEEL A THING [/color][/u] without you around and don’t mind me if I get weak in the knees[/font][/color] ‘cause you have that effect on me, you do ------ ------ ------[/center] Rhett Halewile was a nervous wreck. He stared at his cell phone like it was his impending death, the message to a certain someone on the screen, blinking and flickering as the thirty seconds timed off the amount of hesitation he was facing. His fingers froze on his phone; him not sure if it was worth sending the message or not. He must have read it over about a thousand times by now, making sure he hadn’t said anything he shouldn’t have said or making sure he didn’t sound desperate—which he kind of was. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Some would call it cute, but Rhett called it pathetic. He didn’t actually remember when he and Moz exchanged numbers; sometime in the early morning he woke up, he imagined, when the werewolf girl had given them space. But it didn’t matter when he’d gotten the man’s number. What mattered was utilizing it, which brings him back to being a nervous wreck. He contemplated on whether or not he should send it for about five minutes before he numbly hit the submit button and prayed for the best. As he waited for the reply, he looked around his room. It was rather plain: with beige walls and a white carpet. It looked like it’d been recently redone, for it still smelled a bit like paint. His luggage was near the door, the bag unzipped and clothes strewn from it and all over the floor. His urumi was leaning against the closet door, sheathed, and not used in about five hours, which was a record for it. He’d fallen asleep sometime before Zell and yet the other boy was already up and about, which Rhett found strange, but didn’t argue with. He looked happier, cockier than usual and he made a mental note to ask him about it later. Rhett was on his bed, which was also plainly colored and void of any embellishment. He liked it that way, though. It reminded him of home. He was curled under the blankets, his phone in hand… And it vibrated. His heart began to stammer again and he waited before checking the reply. A million of different thoughts ran through his head: did he want to see him? Was the other night too much? Did I completely screw things up? But no, all his worrying was getting him nowhere, so he checked his phone and was relieved when—he said yes! Moz actually said yes! He did want to meet him, that was good; that was very good. Rhett smiled giddily, thankful Zell wasn’t there to see it, and jumped out of bed, practically running to his suitcase to pick out something nice and casual. He picked out a cardigan and worked off that. He realized he had nothing but graphic tees in his wardrobe, so he quickly waltzed into Zell’s room and picked out one of his tee shirts, knowing they were relatively the same size. Rhett was a little skinnier, but the cardigan covered up for the excess material from the shirt. He knew the other boy would notice, but at the moment, he was too excited to care. He quickly made his way out of the Institute, lacking the concentration to notice any of the other residents. He caught a taxi and told the driver where to go. He grumbled a reply, something about kids and their “need to express themselves” and then headed back out onto the city streets. Rhett didn’t pay much attention to him, actually. He stared out the car window, occasionally looking down at his phone to see if Moz was trying to get a hold of him. He hadn’t, which was a good thing in Rhett’s mind. It meant he hadn’t changed his mind, and that he wanted to see the boy again. It made him smile, even when the driver said something about how disgusting the district they were driving in was. Rhett was always very good at tuning people out; it came with years of Zell practice. The ride was only about ten minutes and Rhett forked over the money, though he was pretty sure he’d been jipped. He stood in front of the place he’d asked Moz to come to with him. Firefly’s read clear and loud on a sign just above the entrance and after a brief moment’s hesitation, he headed inside to search for Moz. He’d heard about the place from a warlock in Taki’s, how the staff let people paint all over the walls and how everything glowed like a summer’s evening. Rhett was, to say the least, inspired. Moz had made it clear he was an artist and Rhett didn’t know if that included painting, but it was worth a shot. At least he’d appreciate it, right? Oh shit, he was nervous again. What if he didn’t appreciate it? Artists were very specific, weren’t they? About what they liked and what they considered art and all that? What if he was actually about to insult the man? Cue Rhett’s anxiety attack here. He made his way over to one of the few tables in the joint and leaned against it. As he waited for Moz, he couldn’t help but look at other peoples’ paintings and though he couldn’t paint or do anything remotely artistic without a piano or guitar, Rhett admired them earnestly.
[/blockquote][/blockquote] ------ ------ ------ Word Count: eight nine six Tags: Mozzie Notes: Nervous Rhettie = Lovable Rhettie <3 Lyrics: 6 Months by Hey Monday Outfit: a racing heart [/justify][/size][/left] |
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Post by mozart julius adams on Sept 5, 2011 10:43:45 GMT -5
  WHEN THE MORNIN' IS BREAKING AND YOUR HEART IS SHAKIN' UP
remember how it feels right now[/b][/i] WHEN WE'RE LOST IN THE MOMENT THE SKY IS EXPLODING.[/font][/size][/size][/size] .....[/center][/b] Moz had never been what one would call a morning person, especially not in these late days of August when his subconscious recognized the impending horror of the revival of morning classes just on the horizon. So at this ungodly hour, the brunette lay tangled in the web of his sheets, his bare torso pressed against the over-washed fabric of his sheets and his cheek buried snuggly into his pillow. Well, his new pillow; he’d substituted his normal pillow for the one that he’d let Rhett borrow, even though Fae had made immense fun of him for it, because he liked the way it still smelled like the boy, faintly. Bourbon and salty sweat and the clean tang of soap, though the scent was starting to fade, replaced by his own scent, which was so familiar that his brain didn’t even register what it smelled like anymore. He’d drifted into that awkward stage where he was awake but not really, just conscious enough to acknowledge this wakefulness but not enough to note any of his surroundings, like what the clock proclaimed the time to be or if the sun slanted through his blinds or if his roommate had woken before him and was currently roaming around the apartment.
A sharp sound jolted him awake, fully awake and aware and startled half to death, and with bleary, blurry eyes he looked around his room for the source of that god awful noise. His gaze settled on the contraption, but instead he thinking over what it was, exactly, he wondered why Fae was holding it, leaning against his doorframe and holding the device as triumphantly as he imagined she’d hold a trophy. The sound separated into words instead of one, grating and unpleasantly loud noise. Your boy boy b-b-boy b-b-boyfriend, your boy boy b-b-boy b-b-boyfriend. It came back to him instantly, how he’d gotten Rhett’s number before he’d left, and how as soon as they were alone Fae had stolen his phone and changed the younger male’s ringtone to this obnoxiously annoying blurb of boy band music, how he’d been too unbothered to change it back. “Gimme,”
[/b] he grumbled, hand outstretched towards his cell, which the redhead now dangled before him tauntingly, like he was one of the cats and his cell phone was a catnip toy. Sighing, the man pushed himself to his feet, padding over to his roommate and pushing her aside, gently, snatching his phone and leaning his back against the doorframe. “Nice jammies,” she commented, and he flipped her off; out of the corner of his eye he saw her grin. She was the one who’d bought him the boxers as a Christmas gift; she should just be thrilled that he actually wore them. Flipping open the phone- and shutting up that horrible ringtone, which he made a mental note to change ASAP- Moz read Rhett’s text after looking at it for a minute to decipher letters from the fuzzy lines on the screen. He wanted to meet? At Firefly’s? Now? Moz’s lips twitched into a frown and his brows furrowed as he did some groggy mental math about how long it would take him to get ready and get over to the club. Thumbing back a reply, he looked up to see Faelan leaning in conspiratorially, attempting to read the texts upside down. Moz childishly held his phone to his chest, glaring at his roommate. “My boyfriend. Go get your own.”[/b] She stuck her tongue out at him- and he stuck his out at her, because she had this way of making him act like he was five- before slipping past him into the hall, and he could just tell that she was too pleased by the way that he’d called Rhett his boyfriend to be mad at him for not including her. Boyfriend. Well, the term applied to any boy that he happened to be dating, and he and Rhett were just about to have their first official date, right? Rhett was his boyfriend. It had a nice ring to it. Sending his reply, Moz couldn’t help but smile as he went about the process of getting ready. ----- Moz wandered into Firefly’s, a little later than he would have liked since a certain roommate wouldn’t let him leave until he promised to tell her, in detail, everything that went down today. He spotted Rhett easily, since the place was nearly deserted at this time of day. The barista behind the counter even seemed a bit surprised to see them, even though she knew as well as Mozzie that the bar doubled as a café to rake in more money during the non-clubbing hours. Loping over to the brunette, Moz couldn’t help but admire the vast array of paintings on the walls, glowing softly under the harsh fluorescent light bulbs- the black lights were strictly used during club hours only, but the male kind of liked the art better this way, when it wasn’t popping off the walls like bad 3D movie affects. He could tell how each piece was painted, could see brush strokes where someone had brought in an actual brush to pain, could see the globs where someone had just smeared their fingers through the paint and went with it. “’Morning,”[/b] he greeted as he stepped beside Rhett, casually looping an arm around the boy’s waist and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. He’d realized in the days that they’d been apart that he’d given mixed vibes the last time they were together, and he felt horrible for all of the grief he imagined he’d put Rhett through. If he’d been that bummed about the rejection Moz had delivered while they were together, how bad must it have felt to not have heard from him since? He wanted to make it clear that he was interested- very interested, in fact- and since words tended to fail him when his head was still this fuzzy and half asleep, he decided that actions would have to do. “What brings us to Firefly’s?”[/b] he asked curiously, glancing away from Rhett to skim over the menu, only to find the barista looking at them, enthralled, like they were some sort of fanfiction come to life. He was tempted to give her a show, but decided against it; he couldn’t afford to play with Rhett’s emotions like that, not after crushing them so brutally the last time. [/justify][/size] ..... tagged : rhettie. <3
words : one oh seven one.
lyrics : “chemical collide” by boys like girls (whose name lies, in this case).
graphics : by tharvon @ caution 2.0, cuz i’m lazy.
outfit : coming soon to a post near you!
notes : sorry. had to included fae, even though it involved a bit of godmodding. hopefully sasha doesn’t mind. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by rhett damon halewile on Sept 5, 2011 16:38:23 GMT -5
AND IT’S LIKE I CAN’T FEEL A THING [/color][/u] without you around and don’t mind me if I get weak in the knees[/font][/color] ‘cause you have that effect on me, you do ------ ------ ------[/center]
The first thing Rhett noticed when he walked into Firefly’s was the lack of people in it. Sure, there were a few couples and a few groups of friends dotted here and there around the place, but overall, it was vastly empty. With a shrug, Rhett supposed the place was more active at night, like its name suggested. And since Rhett wasn’t big on the whole over-active party thing, waiting for Moz in this sort of setting was comfortable for him, which he took for granted because he was nervous about everything else. The second thing he noticed when walking into the building was the barista looking at him quizzically. Shyly, he offered a small wave, letting the woman know that yes, he indeed saw her looking at him. She perked up and went back to her work, ignoring his eyes ever since.
The third thing he noticed was Moz walking in and he only noticed because the same barista who’d been curious about him was looking him up and down. Could she be any more obvious? Sheesh. Rhett frowned at this, but that frown soon faded when he saw Moz looking at all the different paintings. Granted, some of them were merely splatters on the wall or globs thrown around, but it still looked nice in Rhett’s opinion. It was evident that Moz thought the same as he seemingly repainted each and every painting in his mind, following the brush strokes or whatever else an artist did. Rhett smiled, liking the idea that he was enjoying himself. True, he may very well have been here before, but Rhett hadn’t been there to see it, now had he? Finally the man’s eyes found him and Rhett could see that he’d just rolled out of bed. He suddenly felt very apologetic. “Morning,” he greeted casually and Rhett offered a small smile, but then he felt something warm enwrap itself around his waist and he looked down to see Moz’s arm there. By the time he’d looked up, Moz kissed him quickly on the cheek. Rhett felt the heat rise to his cheeks, even to the tips of his ears. Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that right off the bat. In fact, he was expecting anything but; something more along the lines of “why did you drag me out of bed?” He was pleasantly surprised to see him so interested, especially after the other night. It was a big relief, like the signals were all coming in clearer instead of static. “Good morning…I didn’t wake you, did I?”
[/b] he greeted and then asked, unable to contain his concern. But Moz didn’t seem all that bothered as he took a seat. Rhett followed suit and noticed the menus on the table. The barista, or another waiter, must have delivered them while he was zoning out. “What brings us to Firefly’s?” Moz asked and Rhett only looked at him quizzically. “A date?”[/b] he replied bluntly. Date, he’d used the term so loosely, but it seemed to fit. They were, after all, alone and out to, by this time, brunch, which led Rhett to believe that he meant to ask why Firefly’s as opposed to another place. Honestly, the man was like Zell: he needed to elaborate more. “I heard about it, so I decided to give it a try…and since I’m new to the city and all, I thought it might be in my favor to have…desirable company,”[/b] he said, furrowing his brow slightly at the use of the term “desirable.” “And I wanted to see you again,”[/b] he added, muttering and feeling a familiar heat. He averted his gaze by scanning through the menu. In all honesty, the dishes sounded…mysterious. Some names and terms didn’t pop out at him and he wasn’t sure what kind of ingredients they’d contain, so he decided to go with what looked to be a normal grilled cheese sandwich. Once he decided on his lunch, he put the menu down in his lap and placed his hands upon it. “I also didn’t think that I'd properly thanked you for putting me up for the night…you didn’t have to and I know I caused you some…trouble…so, thank you.”[/b] He bit his lip, knowing that Moz had told him on more than one occasion to stop apologizing and thanking him. He couldn’t help it. That “trouble” had been an inconvenience, an emotionally troubled part of the boy that Moz probably hadn’t seen coming—even though he was drunk, which was another reason for his profuse apologies—that Rhett hadn’t seen coming. Something that made him shudder uncomfortably every time he thought about it. He still couldn’t remember every detail of it, but he remembered enough to feel ashamed and a tad bit…what was the word? Inexperienced, most likely. He’d always known he was, but the man just brought it out in him so much more. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] ------ ------ ------ Word Count: eight two two Tags: Mozzie Notes: Haha no problem. And Oh, Rhett, as blunt as ever <3 Lyrics: 6 Months by Hey Monday Outfit: a racing heart [/justify][/size][/left] |
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Post by mozart julius adams on Sept 13, 2011 18:18:31 GMT -5
WHEN THE MORNIN' IS BREAKING AND YOUR HEART IS SHAKIN' UP
remember how it feels right now [/b][/i] WHEN WE'RE LOST IN THE MOMENT THE SKY IS EXPLODING.[/font][/size][/size][/size] .....[/center][/b] The confounded look that passed over Rhett’s face and the instant flush that fanned across his cheeks, stretching and reaching to grasp at the boy’s ears, pulled at the corners of Moz’s until a the male found himself smiling softly. Some might even dare call the smile ‘fond’, though most who knew him enough to recognize this fondness would most likely refrain from pointing it out to him for knowledge and personal experience that he was careful with those he cared for; anyone who knew him was probably dying to see him smiling fondly at someone, or better yet, tangled in someone’s arms grinning like a complete loon. An insanely happy, relatively sane, love struck loon, but a loon none the less. Rhett’s little reactions, of confusion and either embarrassment or maybe uncomfortable yet relieved surprise, rewarded the risk of taking a chance. It made opening up and showing a small slice of the genuine affection he felt for the brunette instead of keeping the feeling bottled inside, where it was safe and couldn’t turn around and bite him in the ass, completely and utterly worth it.
Concernedly, Rhett inquired if he’d woken Moz up, and the bartender shook his head even as his mouth stretched wide in a yawn that he smothered with the back of his hand. Almost as if his body felt the need to contradict him, damn it. “Nah,”
[/b] he affirmed, blinking heavily. “Fae woke me up by kidnapping my cell phone and holding your text hostage. Though I certainly wouldn’t mind crawling back to bed, if you’re subtly offering to keep me company.”[/b] He raked his fingers through Rhett’s hair, affectionately, before folding himself into a seat. He browsed the menu, noting cheerily that they had his morning pick-me-up- though, a café without coffee and the option of added espresso shots could hardly be considered a café, right? He peeked, grinning, up at Rhett when the boy responded that they were at Firefly’s because they were on a date. Moz loved the way he said it, just the way his tone implied that he was seriously considering if the bartender had lost his marbles, because surely that’s what must have happened for him to not realize something so blatantly obvious. “‘Desirable company’?”[/b] the brunette repeated inquiringly, his grin growing fractionally more excited. “I take that to mean that you consider me desirable, Rhettie?”[/b] Of course, he knew exactly what it meant; he just selfishly wanted to hear Rhett say it again. He almost went on to comment that Rhett wasn’t too undesirable himself, and that if they weren’t in a public place with people watching, groggy and unfocused though they may be, he most likely would have already kissed him. He could blame it on the fact that mornings made him friskier. That catching him in that awkward ‘too awake to just fall back to sleep yet too sleepy to be completely aware of what’s going on inside your own head’ stage of the morning could easily result in favorable physical interaction. But honestly, he was just thrilled to see Rhett again. When the younger male had waltzed out of his apartment, sobered up and smiling nervously, Moz had been fairly positive that that was that. He was never going to hear from Rhett again. Now that that had been proven wrong, he felt the need to take advantage of his good fortune. He wanted to be as forward as Rhett had been when he’d drunkenly kissed him on the coffee table; the only thing keeping him from grabbing the brunette’s shirt and dragging him close enough to kiss him silly was the fear that his obnoxiously mixed signals would scare the boy off. “And I wanted to see you again,” Moz opened his mouth to agree, wholeheartedly, that he’d wanted to see Rhett again, too, when the barista caught his eye. She’d abandoned her lookout from behind the counter and was creeping towards them; he suspected that she’d been hoping to eavesdrop on their conversation. Rhett went on to apologize- again!- about being a burden the other night, having not yet noticed the barista approaching their table. Moz snatched up his menu and leaned across the table, bopping the boy on the head with it in one easy flick of the wrist. “I know you didn’t say ‘sorry’, but that was still an apology. Stoppit.”[/b] The barista quirked an eyebrow at them before slowly introducing herself as Bridgette, politely inquiring if they were ready to order. Moz didn’t like her, partially for the way she’d snuck up on them and mostly for the way her gaze swept automatically toward Rhett, interest and lust evident in her brown eyes; she was undressing him in her mind, or something equally uncleanly, and Moz didn’t appreciate it. He frowned, biting back the urge to tap her shoulder, point at Rhett and childishly declare “Mine.” Instead, he smiled jaggedly at her. “Yeah, I’ll have a large coffee. Three creams, two sugars, four shots of espresso. Rhettie?”[/b] His gaze swiveled to meet the boy’s across the table, polite and curious; he tried not to let it show how much he enjoyed the feel of Bridgette glaring at him like he was the devil or her twelfth grade trig homework. [/justify][/size] ..... tagged : rhettie. <3
words : eight eight zero.
lyrics : “chemicals collide” by boys like girls (whose name lies, in this case).
graphics : by tharvon @ caution 2.0, cuz i’m lazy.
outfit : coming soon to a post near you!
notes : i think i like jealous, mildly suggestive moz. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by rhett damon halewile on Sept 17, 2011 11:47:49 GMT -5
AND IT’S LIKE I CAN’T FEEL A THING [/color][/u] without you around and don’t mind me if I get weak in the knees[/font][/color] ‘cause you have that effect on me, you do ------ ------ ------[/center]
Though he was beginning to insist that Rhett hadn’t woken him, the younger boy could see the clear signs of exhaustion. It didn’t help any that Moz was trying to suppress a yawn, either. He blinked heavily, his eyelids wanting to close themselves and Rhett began to confirm with himself that a lunch date would have been the better option. He’d just been too anxious, he concluded. His anticipation always got the better of him. As Moz went on to tell the story of his kidnapped phone, Rhett just nodded, subtly holding back a smile. Fae…she sounded like such a handful to live with, but who was he to judge? He’d only met her once and they hadn’t exactly been on friendly terms; business was the more appropriate word. They hadn’t spoken with each other purely out of desire to. Though I certainly wouldn’t mind crawling back to bed, if you’re subtly offering to keep me company,” Moz said and Rhett only found himself smirking slightly at the offer. He’d made a similar offer that night, for Moz to crawl onto the couch with him. “Sleeping in the same bed on the second night is a bad way to start a relationship,”
[/b] he said, nearly tauntingly as he repeated the man’s words from that night. Though he repeated it didn’t mean he believed it; and as Moz ran a hand through his hair affectionately, he had to hold himself back from taking back his statement and jumping on the chance. Rhett was the smarter of the two parabatai but even he had his slow moments, like now, as Moz inquired why he’d chosen Firefly’s. There was just something about being with the older man that made Rhett reconsider everything he said. Was that normal? Rhett looked up briefly to see his date grinning at him and he simply hardened his embarrassed glare as a means of saying “shut up.” Then his grin grew wider, if at all possible, at his use of the term “desirable” when describing his company. Well, it was the truth, so Rhett didn’t see anything particularly wrong with it. “I take that to mean that you consider me desirable, Rhettie?” he asked playfully and Rhett only thought to himself how Moz was the only other one to call him “Rhettie.” He didn’t feel he needed to answer that question. Wasn’t the answer obvious? “What do you think?” he asked instead, in the same playfulness. He wasn’t about to give Moz the easy satisfaction of hearing it from him. Of course he was desirable; hence, the frisky make out session, however emboldened he was from the Manhattan. Rhett wanted him. There was no denying it, nor did he want to deny it. His signals were clear; it was time Moz made his clearer. So far, he was doing a damn good job and Rhett had to contain himself from just dragging him off to one of the many dark corners in the joint. Moz’s gaze wandered from Rhett, to whom he was about to reply to—to whom was awaiting that reply—to something more distant. Rhett turned his head slightly, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The barista was looking at them; was that bothering him? With a small shrug, Rhett turned back to Moz and decided to ignore the nosey barista. He realized quickly that it was a mistake to turn back around because when he did—whack! Did he just—? He just smacked him with a menu! Rhett was incredulous; he knew his apologizing was getting old, but did it annoy him that much? The younger brunette felt like laughing at Moz’s reaction, so he did. Quietly, but he did laugh. “I’m sorry,”[/b] he said, apologizing for apologizing. When he realized he was saying sorry again, he caught himself and stopped laughing. “I mean, okay.”[/b] His timing was impeccable because by the time he ceased his laughing, the barista made her appearance and introduced herself as Bridgette. Wait, wasn’t she the barista? She was a waitress, too? Rhett shook his head slightly, mentally scolding himself for questioning her occupation. Maybe things worked differently here. When Rhett looked up to meet her gaze politely, she was already intently looking at him. He blinked and was about to call her out on it when Moz (thankfully) came to his rescue and dragged her attention from him to her job. She didn’t seem happy about it and besides printing “I’m gay for the guy across from me” across his forehead, he wished there was a polite way to tell her he wasn’t interested. Maybe not leaving her a tip would do the trick…Moz ordered and then inquired what he wanted with the calling of his nickname. He wasn’t ordering any food? Well Rhett didn’t want to be a fish out of water, so he said, “I’ll just have some Earl Grey with a blueberry muffin. Just a bit of milk, no sugar.”[/b] As Bridgette took down their order, frowning slightly at Rhett’s “no sugar” comment, Rhett looked from her to Moz. When she turned the corner to the kitchen, out of earshot, Rhett said, “That was…odd…”[/b] [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] ------ ------ ------ Word Count: eight six nine Tags: Mozzie Notes: I'm definitely sure I enjoy jealous, mildly suggestive Moz xD Lyrics: 6 Months by Hey Monday Outfit: a racing heart [/justify][/size][/left] |
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