shadows_have_offended | (no subject)

Entry tags:

harry starks,
ig

(no subject)

He has work in the morning, but it's not stopping him from going out. Besides, this is hardly going out. One of his coworkers put him up on a blind date, and so he's out for that--but the other guy was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, so Neil doesn't think he's showing up at all. So here's Neil, standing outside of a bar, smoking and feeling a bit like an idiot for being stood up.

He should probably just go. If the guy wasn't here twenty minutes ago, or even five minutes ago, it's reasonable to say that he's not coming and Neil should just give up. He pulls out his phone and checks the texts. There's the one from his coworker, describing the guy he's supposed to be meeting, and there's the one from the guy, confirming that he has Neil's number.

Maybe he'll go to a club. Maybe he'll just go home so he can smoke in a heated room rather than shivering outside. Maybe he'll get this fucking meal and send a picture to the guy; his loss. Neil's an entirely pleasant date.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He offers his own flat, simply because that's what he's used to. Boys he's known in London didn't have much of a home so it never came up. He knows Neil isn't anything like them; he's educated and employed, but it still feels better to take him to his own flat.

The taxi arrives and Harry gallantly opens the door to let Neil step in first. He puts a hand on the boys shoulder as he gets in, a lingering touch. .

If there's another time after this--and Neil rather hopes there is--he might insist on his place. Not that he minds going over, but he has a perfectly good apartment, music, decent liquor. A dog to be concerned about these days, but he can't imagine Beau being a problem unless Harry dislikes dogs.

But for now, he focuses on this: the moment, the lingering touch, Harry's kind expression. He slides into the taxi and when Harry slides in as well, he sits rather close.

It’s probably not the bold move it would have been in London (although cabbies were used to all sorts stepping into the back of their cab), but Neil sitting close still brings a smile to Harry’s lips.

He resists putting an arm around Neil, or kissing him there and then, though the thought does cross his mind. He prefers keeping himself composed and discrete when there’s someone watching them through the rear-view mirror.

It’s a silent cab-ride until they reach the High Gate Terrace building. Harry doesn’t allow Neil to pay the fare either and makes sure the fare is paid before Neil can protest.

It’s not until they’re inside Harry’s flat – which still looks pretty much like it did when he first moved in, except for a stocked fridge and liquor cabinet – that Harry speaks. “I know I promised you a drink, but I kinda want to kiss you instead,” he confesses with a lopsided smile on his face. In the privacy of his flat he puts a hand through Neil’s hair, but he doesn’t pull him close yet. “Think you’d be ok with that?”

It’s a comfortable silence, and when they reach Harry’s apartment he isn’t nervous at all. Not that he was when they ran into each other, but Neil has had moments of nerves with other men, and it’s rather nice to not feel it.

It’s almost sweet to be asked. He tilts his head into the touch on his hair, starving for the touch a little, and he nods. Then he steps in, not quite flush but very near, and leans in to brush his lips against Harry’s.

Harry may have been dubbed the Torture Gang Boss, but he's gentle when it comes to boys and it's important to him that he has permission. He likes Neil and he doesn't want to impose on him.

But Neil is clearly alright with it all, as he leans into Harry's touch and steps forward. So Harry puts his hand in Neil's neck and kisses him properly.

The gentle surety of the kiss sinks through Neil and he practically melts into it. It’s been a minute since he was with someone, the whole of January so far seeming fuzz and melancholic with loss, and now that someone is holding him, interested and intent, he can feel everything narrowing comfortably to this moment.

He smooths his hands up Harry’s chest, then up into his hair. He deepens the kiss boldly, scraping his teeth just a little and sighing as he opens his mouth.

It feels good to feel Neil melt against his mouth, the content sigh filled with relief, the kiss eager. It feels good because he hasn't had much of this lately and he wasn't expecting much of it for the foreseeable future.

His eyes stray to Neil's neck but the bruise that was there before has faded.

The hand in his hair is bold, but Harry finds he likes that. He nudges against it, and then deepens the kiss.

Besides everything else, it just feels like ages since he’s kissed. Kissing has become so much a prelude to other things, something to be hurried through, and Neil finds himself pleasantly warmed through to just enjoy this kind of slow seduction.

He breaks away from the kiss a little, to breathe, and smiles a little, licking his lips. “Should we sit down, maybe?” he suggests. He doesn’t want to risk being weak in the knees.

Harry nods and lets go of Neil's neck. It might have been a kiss for a kiss' sake, but that doesn't mean the thought to strip the boy naked there and then hasn't crossed Harry's mind.

He smiles pleasantly instead and nodded to the couch where Neil was welcome to sit. "Let me get you that drink I promised, yeah? What'll you have?"

A drink is far from his mind, but Neil nods and sits on the couch. It’s about the dance of it now, the flirtation and tease and anticipation.

“Scotch, if you have it,” he says. “Or beer.”

He likes Neil and enjoys his company, so Harry isn’t in any rush. A part of Harry is, but he doesn’t usually let that part of him take control over the rest .

He pours them both a scotch and joins the boy on the couch. “I’m still settling in as you can see,” he says as he passes one of the glasses to him. “It’s an expensive city.” He doesn’t mind that. Expensive cities make good money.

When Harry joins him, Neil makes a point of trying to find a point of contact. He smiles and looks around a bit; it is generic in the same way that they all are, though there are definite variations on the theme.

"I wasn't particularly smart with my money when I first got here, I'll admit." He smiles and laughs at himself, now. The cafe job pays handsomely enough, that he can put back what he spent in excess when he first arrived. But it also took him a year and a half to get off his ass and get a job. "But I do have a record player and quite a collect these days."

"So, we should have gone to your flat, then?" Harry teases. "Maybe you could show me your collection some time, yeah? Teach an old man a bit about this modern music." He takes a sip and regards Neil.

Neil smiles against the edge of his glass, then takes a sip, demure and practically glowing under the teasing. His collection is wide and varied at this point, and he thinks that Harry would appreciate some of it even more than Guy did.

"Next time," he says, because it feels like there could be. "And you can watch me dance, if I can't convince you to dance with me."

"I have a radio, if you want to dance," Harry says, nodding to the radio set next to the standard issue television set he hasn't yet touched. He thinks it might be more teasing than an actual promise, but he isn't saying no to a pretty boy dancing for him.

"I can think of other things to do," Neil says, a little coy, smiling as he takes a sip of his drink. He loves to dance, and would gladly be silly about it just now, but he thinks he'd much rather be kissing than dancing, if Harry might insist on not dancing with him.

Harry inclines his head and smile. 'Oh, you can?' the look says.

He sets aside his drink, pries the glass from Neil's hands as well, and leans in to kiss him again.

There wasn't much prying to be done. As soon as Harry sets his drink aside, Neil's already preparing for the approach. He meets the kiss gently at first, but easily and happily deepening it again. Yes, this is exactly what he had in mind. A far better end than his blind date probably would have taken.

He presses back a little, enough that he can climb onto Harry's lap and make himself comfortable while they kiss.

Harry's enjoying the kiss - the kid is a good kisser. He shifts a little, but before he knows it, Neil is on his lap instead making himself comfortable. He huffs a sigh and it's almost a moan. It's hard not to react - it's been too long and his body wants a lot more than just a kiss.

He puts his hands on Neil's hips and deepens the kiss.

Neil sighs as well, not quite a moan but certainly enjoying himself. He runs his fingers up Harry's chest, feeling the shape of his body through soft cotton, until he finds his buttons. He doesn't quite start unbuttoning anything, but he smooths his fingers near them, a tease, a question. His hips move gently on Harry's lap, definitely a tease.

It doesn't help that the way the kid moves is like he's asking him to get on with it. Harry moves his hands and tugs at the waistband of Neil's trousers, then snaps open the button. He pulls back from the kiss and locks eyes with Neil. "Yeah?" The last question before he gets on with it.

"Yeah," Neil says, soft and close, smiling. He feels a little flush, but mostly it's just that heady, overwhelming need of it. He hadn't intended to end up like this tonight, though he doesn't regret it. And Harry is gentle, careful, like he's worried Neil might change his mind.

A year ago, he might have. He's trying to be more confident about it. So he tugs at Harry's shirt, starts to unbutton it.

Harry knows a lot of boys who do it because they need the roof over their head, or because they think they owe Harry. He knows he can come across as a man who gets what he wants - he is that kind of man - but he doesn't want to impose on any kid. Consent is important to him, at least when it concerns his own sexual encounters and affairs.

As soon as he has it, he leaves Neil's trousers to get the kid's shirt off first, if only because he kinda likes how he's sitting on his lap right now and taking off his trousers requires Neil to move.

Neil laughs and leans back a little bit so it's easier to take his shirt off. He still leans into styles of the fifties more often then not--neat collared button-downs and t-shirts underneath, though he's more lax with jeans instead of trousers, but he'd also dressed up for a date tonight. When his shirt is gone, he rests bashfully for a moment. He's fit still, though he hasn't done sports for the past couple years now, and he's aware of the freckles smattered all over his chest and shoulders, standing out against his fair skin.

Fair's fair. He focuses on Harry's shirt as well, wanting to see him too.

Neil's quite pretty, with sweet little freckles on his shoulders and chest, and a shy little smile on his face, and Harry smiles with an appreciative look on his face and kisses him again.

He lets Neil take his shirt of next, and helps by shrugging out of it. Harry's quite fit himself - he's not into pumping iron, but he minds what he eats and does his exercises. Scars adorn his own chest - business risk. There's an old stab-wound, a few scars of varying age and a more recent large but fading bruise on his side - courtesy of the London police force.