Ordering Chaos
| Ordering Chaos | |
|---|---|
| Players | The Green Mill Razi takes Javi to one of his favored spots in the city. |
The second time Razi and Javi get together, things are a bit less 1) formal, and 2) stilted. On Razi's part, at least; Javi was never stilted. But Razi proves he's capable of arriving for a date without a suit on, as he shows up in nice jeans and a button-down with the sleeves folded up a few times to below the elbow. He's not effusively demonstrative in terms of physicality, but there's a subtle warmth to his manner when they first meet. And he's apparently capable of eating pizza! With his hands! So Javi is learning all sorts of things about him, it would seem. But the true goal of the evening is the Green Mill, one of the oldest jazz clubs in the city. The exterior is rather unassuming, apart from some fun signage, and once they get inside, Razi's warning about the lack of formality proves true. It's not a /dive/, but it has a lived-in, historic, cash-only quality to it. They manage to squeeze into a small booth and get their first round of drinks -- and fortunately Razi has come /prepared/ for that cash-only part of things -- and settle in with the music. It's a quartet of musicians tonight -- sax, guitar, drums, and bass -- with no vocals. Razi's clearly got an ear for it, even when the music seems to wander, and it has a remarkable effect of easing some of that habitual reserve. "I played in a jazz band in high school," he admits, something a touch wry and wistful in the twist of his mouth. Javi, in turn, is dressed appropriately for the venue. Well, technically //anything// is appropriate for the venue, or so says the website, but he's at a similar level as Razi tonight, cementing the impression of knowing how to show up for any number of different occasions despite a preference for tees and jeans when it's completely his choice. He also seems to be taking touch cues from the other man, because while he's certainly receptive to any from Razi, he doesn't do //too// much initiating. However, what might be most obvious is his enjoyment of seeing him eat pizza. It's a delighted sort of amusement -- just a tiny pleasant surprise. Honestly, it may have been why he'd suggested it in the first place. When they get to the club, he doesn't bother to hide his excitement about it, because while he may not have gone to //this// particular one before, he is a person who enjoys going out to listen to music. He takes plenty of time to look around as they go through to the booth, and he even orders a Moscow mule instead of a beer, because it seems to be called for. He //also// is obviously enjoying the music, even if he might not be accessing it in quite the same way. He does get lost in it a bit here and there, and he definitely moves plenty like his body is going to do a bit of what it wants even if his brain is keeping it seated. He's not lost enough that he misses when Razi talks to him, though, and he turns quickly away from the band and toward his companion, eyebrows raising. "Yeah?" It's another delightful surprise, and it has his smile pulling wide again as he regards him for a few moments. "I'mma guess clarinet." Though he doesn't say why, even though he does wait to hear whether he's right or not. "/Clarinet/," Razi echoes back. He doesn't quite sound /offended/, but -- no, okay, he might sound a little offended. Or just a touch baffled. But he pauses then, considering, trying to suss out what about him might have drawn Javi to this particular guess. He takes another sip of his drink -- an Old Fashioned, which also seems called for -- and then he says, "No." The fact that he doesn't continue on to tell Javi what he /did/ play seems quite purposeful, from the subtle hint of humor in the set of his mouth. Any offense seems to roll off Javi's back without even a hint of sticking, and he just laughs. He is not deterred by his incorrect guess, either, and in fact it just makes him lean forward a little bit, resting his forearms on the table and clasping his hands in front of him so he can take another moment to study him. "Hm." He tips his head to the side, his gaze moving over the other man's face, before he says, "Sax?" It's well-timed with a particularly good lick from the sax player they're actually listening to right now, but that doesn't seem to be //why// he's guessed it. He's not just guessing randomly. Saxophone seems to be deemed a more reasonable, less surprising guess. But still, Razi shakes his head. No to that one, too. He sips his drink, easing back into Eternally Patient mode now, a hint of humor in the way he lets Javi search through for the correct answer. "How many guesses I get?" Javi wonders when he gets this one wrong, too, but it sounds rhetorical. And again, undeterred. If Razi can be patient all night, he can apparently guess all night. He //does// reach for his drink, though, taking a sip from it as he considers the options left to him. His gaze stays on the other man for another few seconds, before it drops down toward Razi's hands -- or where his hands would be if they're not visible on the table -- but eventually he says, "Trumpet." "Have you ever met a trumpet player?" Razi wonders with more overt humor now, if only for a moment. "I see no particular reason to limit your guesses. I assume you'll simply ask me once you're tired of the game, if you don't manage to guess. There aren't /that/ many instruments common to jazz." "Met lots of people," Javi retorts with another laugh, leaning back and spreading his hands wide. "So, yeah, probably." He still doesn't seem daunted, even if he's apparently a terrible guesser of instruments. "Probably woulda said piano first," he admits, "Except the other day in the park when Maya said she played piano, you didn't seem like you played it too 'cause you didn't say nothing about it. But maybe you just didn't want to say it then. So, is it?" Razi inclines his chin with that lingering hint of humor for Javi's next guess. "Maya seems to be an actual /musician/," he reasons. "I presumed she didn't need me doing the equivalent of others telling me about how much they love Law & Order when I mention what I do." Another sip. "But yes, piano. My parents put me into lessons for classical, of course, but I was always drawn to jazz." There's a moment there, and a beat. "It sounds...chaotic, sometimes. When you first start listening. But there's rules to it. Order. The chaos has to follow that in order for it to work." He shakes his head, gaze drawing back to the stage. "I don't know, I suppose it simply always appealed." "Hm." When he's finally gotten it right, Javi settles a little bit -- even though it took him forever. For SOME REASON. "Guess that makes sense," he concedes as he reaches for his drink again, taking a sip as he regards Razi from above the rim as he speaks. His expression softens a little bit at the explanation, and while he may not have the understanding of a //true// musician, he can understand it well enough. "Ordering chaos, huh," he replies. "Yeah, sounds like something you'd like to do." His head tilts to the side, and after another moment he asks, "You still play at all? You got that one at your place, right?" Razi draws quiet at that question for a long moment, and with his eyes on the musicians, one could even think that maybe he missed the question altogether. But finally says, "It's...complicated. Parts of our lives become very difficult to revisit. After we return. We're...divorced from ourselves. The piano is still here because it was with me before, and it was there when I returned." Javi doesn't try to push for the answer. He never really does. Despite plenty of pushing ahead in other areas, when it comes to this sort of thing he's almost //too// attuned to other people's reactions. So, he just drinks his drink, and his eyes return to the stage, too, ready to leave the question unanswered. However, when it comes his gaze shifts back, and a little wince flickers across his face. "I'm sorry," he replies after a moment. Not sorry he asked, but in general. "That's really tough." He reaches briefly to touch Razi's shoulder, but it doesn't linger. "Used to wish I could play something," he admits, "'cause it kinda seemed like this magic, you know? When there's this amazing thing you got no clue how to do. Dunno if that makes sense but that's probably part of why I like it so much." "It's not magic," Razi says, his smile faint. "It just sounds like it sometimes." He lets that thought settle in the air for a long moment before continuing. "It's a skill. Some people have natural aptitude for it, and a natural passion, but in the end it comes down to the work. The practice. Just like anything else. I suppose things like music seem like magic because art is something others witness and consume and enjoy, rather than some other learned skill that's easier for others to ignore." He looks back to Javi now. "I am confident you could learn, if you truly wished to." "Hm, yeah." Javi's eyes drift to the stage again, his fingers tapping against the glass with the beat of the piece. He may not always //quite// be able to follow the melody, but he does always seem to have the rhythm down. "Probably," he concedes. "I mean, sometimes other stuff seems like magic too even when you know it's not, but yeah. Probably the emotional part of it, too." As for whether //he// could do it, he's nowhere near as quick to agree. He lets out a little huff of amusement, and it's his turn to take a while to sit with it before he replies. "Maybe sometime," he eventually says, turning back to meet Razi's gaze again now, too. "Who knows? Doing all kinds of new things nowadays." He grins again as he adds, "I won't mess around with yours if I try to learn, though. Fucking annoying in the beginning, and I gotta make sure I get invited back." "Real magic is, in my experience, more potent but less pretty." Razi's smile draws briefly tighter befor ehe lets the moment pass by. He watches Javi consider the possibility of music, of /playing/, of learning an instrument, as patient as he ever is. "It's not so terrible sounding an instrument in the beginning as some," he says. He gives Javi a considering look and asks, "Is that what you'd want to learn, if you learned something? Piano?" Javi nods, and doesn't argue with Razi's assessment -- but really, what does he know about real magic? He takes another sip from his drink instead, looking back at the stage, and this time when the question is posed to him, they don't return immediately to his companion. "Maybe guitar," he finally answers. "If I was gonna pick something." Perhaps more hedging than necessary, but he does say it. "Always seemed cool that you could bring it around if you wanted to. Plus you can do a lot with it. I mean," he amends, "you can with piano, too, you can make a lot of different sounds. But you can't really carry a piano around with you." A laugh, before he admits, "Least, I can't. Maybe someone could." More things in heaven and Earth and all that. Something in Javi's answer has Razi's smile drawing a touch wider, although he listens patiently through the full reply rather that interrupt. "There are keyboards that are a good deal more portable than pianos, but yes, your point is apt. Guitar was actually what I thought of first, when considering what you'd want to play. It's a social sort of instrument, as you said; you can take it with you anywhere. And it's stylistically flexible. Jazz, pop, rock, classical." He gestures a bit with his glass as if to say, and so on and so forth. Before he finishes off the contents. Javi doesn't look back until the end. He's shifted a little bit forward in his seat again, his gaze darting from musician to musician on the stage like he has to be moving //something//, since he's not up on his feet. Though it's not //just// that. He's not exactly uncomfortable -- but there's the idea of it somewhere with this particular line of questioning, maybe having to do with imagining himself being able to do something he's already described as magic, even if it's really not. However, when his gaze returns, he's smiling. "Yeah," he replies, "like that. Seems more like me." His eyes drift to Razi's hands again, and his smile warms as he adds, "I could definitely see you playing piano, though. You got great hands." Javi looks a way, but Razi's gaze lingers on him. It doesn't miss that tension. The restlessness. The not-quite discomfort. When that compliment comes, his gaze does drop inevitably to his own hands as well, opening them to his own view as he considers them. "They're stained," he says, something distant in his voice beneath the throbbing beat of the music. And then he folds them back upon the table, his lips shifting into a quicksilver smile that is more polite than sincere. "Thank you." The reply has Javi's brows pulling together a little bit. His smile fades as he watches the other man's study of them with a sudden intensity of focus, as if he could see what Razi sees. He can't, though he does see other things. So, this time he doesn't let it go. "How?" he asks quietly. He hesitates, then reaches out toward them with one of his own, uncurling a finger so that it rests against the back of them. It's pretty obviously an invitation, but as usual, he doesn't push too hard -- possibly because he's pushing with the questions instead. "What does that mean?" It's rare for Javi to press a question, or even ask something detailed about Razi's nature in this way, and so Razi's first reaction is a lingering study of him before he even begins to consider responding. He does eventually turn his hand back over, the one Javi's finger rested upon the back of, but it's so he can draw a thumb along the pads of his fingers. "Ink stains," he says. "All across them. The scribed words aren't there upon my fingers, but they are most other places upon my skin. I am...parchment and pen both." Javi may not have expected a reply, so when he actually gets one, there's a brief flicker of surprise that crosses his face. Like everything, it's easily read, but he banishes it quickly, too. He looks down at the hands on the table again, his own and Razi's, but of course neither set look any different to him. "So that's the other part of what you look like?" The music is loud enough that there's really no danger of them being overheard -- still, though, it's //very// quiet. "Guess I can see why the thing I said the other day was complicated." "No, Javier," Razi says, and in the quiet of his voice there's almost something gentle there for a moment. A deeper apology. "It's not 'the other part.' It's the truth. What you and other humans see, that's the illusion. A memory. Magic. The ink, the words, the vellum -- that's the truth. That's what I am. I will never be human again. As I grow more powerful, I will resemble humanity even less. As empathetic as you are, you will never truly know the heart of me, because I am not what you are. I am not..." And here he does pause, quiet, and reaches to draw his fingers along the side of Javi's neck, his thumb sweeping down the line of his jaw. "I am not a good choice for you." "Okay." Javi doesn't //argue// -- he accepts it -- but as often happens, he doesn't seem to think it means what Razi thinks it does. "Maybe you're not, but you still live in the world. I know it's important for you to connect to us." He seems to realize something, and he clarifies quickly, "I don't mean //me//." A little huff escapes him as he admits, "Okay, yeah, I want it to be me, but I don't mean I'm like, the //one//. I just mean in general. And no one understands each other like that, even if they're both human, or lost, or whatever. Yeah, can figure out what people are feeling a lot of the time but there's a reason for that you're not gonna understand, either. I didn't just pop out like that." He reaches up more purposefully then to catch Razi's hand, not so that he can move it but so that he doesn't lose the contact. "People don't gotta understand every single thing about each other like that to be a good choice." It's good timing that Javi catches at Razi's hand when it does, because otherwise it looked about to draw back. Razi exhales a quiet breath, tense, almost aggrieved, particularly when Javi talks about the need for his kind to connect to humans. "We use our connections to humanity to hide ourselves. To trick the world into thinking we belong in it. Is that really what you want from this? Somehow I don't think you want to make a Bargain of it." He inhales slowly, steadying himself. Centering himself. "I am trying very hard to temper your expectations, despite your best efforts. The best you can hope for from me is something brief and incomplete. You will never hold the entirety of me. You will never be able to lay claim, or hold my sole attention. I will never be /yours/." And then his voice dries a touch when he adds, "I am not being self-deprecating when I say: I do not understand your fascination." "That's not the only thing they're for." Javi doesn't say it //dismissively//, but he is adamant. Assured that he is right about it, which is notable because he definitely doesn't always sound like that when he's making statements, especially of this nature. "It's so you stay a little human, too. For real. Not to hide. It's not just a trick. I know that's part of it, I'm not saying it's not. But it's also so you don't end up like the things that took you. So you don't start looking at everyone like a thing to be broken down and made into whatever you want just 'cause it's there, and you can. I actually get that better than you think I do." He's still holding Razi's hand, watching the other man's reactions even as he's speaking. He notes them, as he usually does, but they don't stop him. "I'm not tryna //lay claim// to anyone. You don't hold my sole attention, either. I dunno what you're imagining but I'm not sitting by the phone all day hoping you text me. I got my own shit going on, Razi. Don't even know if I //want// nothing permanent, ever. Definitely not thinking about it right now. If this is you saying you don't wanna spend more time with me like this, then that's fine. That's a whole other thing. But that's never what you say, and you're always picking your words so fucking carefully I feel like if you meant that you'd //say// that." There's the subtlest tic in Razi's jaw, the slightest narrowing of his eyes, as Javi speaks so fluently and adamantly about the reason for such bargains. As Javi studies him, so too does Razi study in turn, scrutinizing Javi's features as he continues on. When Javi speaks of Razi imagining him sitting by the phone, the line of his mouth firms in clear disagreement. But he allows Javi the time to finish. "I am doing my best not to lie to you, either," he says, and there is a whisper of frustration in his words. "Obviously I don't think you're sitting by your phone. By why persist with someone who has clearly made multiple attempts to discourage you? If I am always so very wrong about you, then tell me what you /do/ want. Give me the terms." "You know," Javi remarks, "it's not as discouraging as you think it is when you keep saying how you're the wrong choice but you still planned this whole night to be with me." His thumb begins to run over the back of Razi's hand -- the motion is the sort that might be meant to be soothing, though the way he's meeting the other man's gaze might push it into something else. He smiles, but it's not amused. He's not poking fun. He's just smiling, because he likes to look at him, even if he looks a little mystified, too. "You mean in general, or like, right now? 'Cause in general, I wanna get to know you and spend some time with you in a romantic way. I don't know what you mean by terms. Are you tryna get me to say the amount of dates I want in a month, or what? 'Cause, like...I can say a number, I guess? Are you gonna try and negotiate how much we see each other?" He shakes his head. "But //right// now I wanna take you back to my place." The quiet exhale of Razi's breath is somewhat resigned. "I think you overestimate the amount of effort required in planning a visit to a lounge I already frequent. And no, I am not seeking a negotiation regarding a /number of dates/, Javier. I simply don't understand how you can be so comfortable in such an...open-ended unknown. Going along with things until something disastrous inevitably happens." AKA dating. But he inhales a deeper breath, and exhales a longer sigh, when Javi comes to what he wants right now. Right in this moment. "I cannot fathom how anything in this conversation has inspired /that/." "Hm." Javi will allow him to leave it there. Again, mostly. He can't help but let out a //little// snort at the denial of actual negotiation of terms in hard numbers, but he allows it to pass, too. "We're different," he says instead, with a shrug. "You don't understand it 'cause that's not who you are. Pretty sure you never were. But, you know. You don't gotta understand it to believe I'm fine with it when I'm sitting here telling you I'm fine with it. You gotta figure out if //you're// fine with it. 'Cause if you're not, for real, it's fine. I'm good. No hard feelings. But if you can accept I'm okay with it, and you decide you're okay with it, then that's all we need. This is what people do." Dating, that is. As for the rest, his smile pulls a //little// wider as he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side to regard Razi steadily, still running his thumb across the back of the other man's hand. "You don't gotta understand //that//, either," he says, "but I feel like if you thought about it for like five seconds you could get there. But don't worry about it." His other hand lifts, reaching across the table to brush his fingertips across Razi's cheek. "What i wanna know is if //you// want to come home with //me//. And I'm really kinda looking for just a yes or a no." "What people do," Razi echoes back at him, just a touch skeptical. Possibly of the entire institution of dating. As Javi's smile pulls wider, Razi's frown seems to furrow deeper, as if he's maybe the slightest bit /annoyed/ to have been forced into the admission that comes to follow: "I would not be opposed." It isn't yes /or/ no, as he was instructed, but it seems to be the answer Javi is going to get from him for the time being. "Yeah. You know. What people do." A beat; then: "All people. Not just //humans//." Before Razi can claim it's some mortal thing that the Lost would never understand. Javi will not be accepting that tonight. Of course, he gets a little of his own back when he doesn't actually get a straight answer, even though it also makes him laugh. "So fucking difficult," he says as his eyes lift toward the ceiling and he lets out a sigh of his own, but it's not exactly //discouraging// even if it isn't one word. "Looks like they're wrapping up," he remarks, as if offhandedly, as his head tilts toward the stage and his eyes roll that way, too, then return to Razi's. "Ready to head out?" Now he might want to see how many non-yeses and non-nos he can get. "I am 'fucking difficult' by nature and you've yet to be discouraged by it, so I can only conclude that you find it somehow appealing for some reason," Razi says with particular dryness. Javi's question is simple, and yet Razi seems to study him a preternaturally long time to follow, before finally he reaches to draw Javi in close enough that he can steal a kiss of brief but searing heat. It's like a flashfire, just for a moment, and then it's gone. It's rising, drawing his wallet from his jeans and thumbing out an appropriate number of bills to leave on the table. "If you like," he says. "I really do," Javi concedes, cheerfully and without further explanation. He's done enough explaining for the evening, and anyway now he's waiting for his reply. He stays mostly still, schooling his expression into something vaguely solicitous even though now he also looks a little like he's trying not to laugh -- but all that means that he's //really// not ready for what comes next. Suddenly he's being kissed, and by the time he processes what's happening well enough to respond, it's already over. "//Damn//." His eyes are wide as they lift to Razi when he stands, but soon enough another smile begins on his face. This one is slower, kindling catching from the sudden spark. Then he's up out of his seat, too, and one hand hooks around Razi to press against his hip to pull him toward the door. Razi somehow looks a bit /aggrieved/, a bit /exasperated/, to be the source of such interest and attraction, which is a fair amount of audacity from someone who just...did what he did. He finds himself with an arm about him, a hand at his hip, as if it is briefly startling, but the door seems to be just as much his desired destination for the moment. His hand ghosts along Javi's back without thinking. Outside, the night is hot, but Razi inhales deep of the late summer air. "I can get us a car," he says, half-declarative, half-offer. "I imagine the trip on the L will be quite...slow." It's already going to be a minor trek going from far north in the city to the opposite end. And, in what surely isn't a surprising turn of events at all, Javi's looking pretty pleased with what's happening right now in this moment. Up to and including the fact that Razi looks exasperated, and being the one who caused it. It's a little difficult to walk with his hand where it is, and most especially when his fingers slip down just slightly into the front pocket of the other man's jeans, but he manages to do it without tripping anyone up. "If you like," he replies as he tilts his head up so he can look at him, that smile still firmly in evidence. "I would not be opposed." He keeps the laugh back, but only just. "We can negotiate the time sharing later." Oops, the laugh's out now. "Dear God." Razi's gaze goes skyward, as if for an intersession of divine patience, before he draws his phone out to order an Uber. "I do /not/ sound like that," he grumbles, punching in an address that Javi probably has to give him because why would Razi know it. But it's a weekend evening, and so it can't take long for a car to arrive for them. What will /probably/ take longer is the ride itself, from one end of the city to the other, and Razi holds himself carefully composed for the journey, because he is an /adult/ with /self-restraint/. Except for the way his hand reaches to rest on Javi's leg, his fingers curling to press fingertips into the muscle of his inner thigh. Except for that. "Lindo, you literally sounded exactly like that." However, Javi has to add, fairly, "Except hotter." You're welcome. He is also capable of sitting very politely in the car -- though he is not particularly capable of controlling every last involuntary movement of his body in response to hands in certain places. But while that particular involuntary movement will probably be obvious to Razi, it will not be obvious to the driver, and that's what counts. It's a long, long ride, but it eventually comes to an end in a not-so-great part of town in front of a not-so-great building. But it's not the //worst// building. It's livable. Javi practically bolts out of the car when they get there, barely even waiting for the payment to happen before he's grabbing Razi's hand and pulling him up the stairs as he fumbles in his pocket for his keys in the other. He manages to get them inside and through the slightly dilapidated lobby, into and out of the dingy elevator onto the fifth floor, and to apartment 5F. He even gets them inside! Because this is what people do, too. But he's barely even closed the door before he's pulling Razi down by the spaces between the buttons of his shirt so he can kiss him. Which leaves them /both/ likely catching their breath in the aftermath of all that pleasure. When Razi reaches for Javi next, it's with a gentler touch to draw him in for a kiss, this one softer, but lingering longer. Some humor touches his lips once the kiss breaks, curving into the subtle hint of a smile. And then he wonders in a low voice, "Is it because I'm so excessively controlling?" Javi is very easy to draw into another kiss, whatever kind it might be. There's a certain stillness to him now that's never really present other times, a true //calm// rather than just holding himself in. His hand comes up to cup Razi's face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, and there's a contented sigh when they finally part, even if the question has him looking up again. "Huh?" His brain may need a moment to catch up with whatever's happening what now. "Is what 'cause you're so controlling?" He squints, tilting his head back, and then to the side, like if he finds just the right angle he'll understand what the heck the other man is talking about. But he hasn't found it quite yet, so he may need some clarification. Razi's humor shades a touch apologetic for causing such confusion; his hands stroke up and down Javi's thighs and hips as if to soothe it away. "You preferring to be on top," he clarifies. It's clearly not too serious a question, as much as a humorous thought that occurred to him. "I get the impression that you've enjoyed getting to be in charge of me a bit." "//Oh//." Javi laughs, still a little breathless, and he settles in against Razi's chest again to enjoy the touch. "I mean, kinda," he admits after a moment, but there's still amusement in his voice, too. "You're a little controlling." Look, he's not going to //deny// it, because they both know it's true. However: "But I like that, too. It's hot. Just sometimes, you know, yeah. I wanna be in charge." "Ah, just a /little/ controlling," Razi murmurs, that humor lingering as his fingertips glide a slow stroke up and down Javi's spine. "Mm. You find it attractive /now/. I doubt that will always be the case." "Yeah. A little." Javi's head turns to press a kiss to Razi's shoulder, his mouth curling upward into a smile that can be felt even if it can't be seen. But when the other man goes on, he looks up again -- just his head, though, so that he doesn't dislodge the hand. "Why you always doing that?" His eyes narrow again as he regards him, even though the smile hasn't faded, and there's a definite tease in his voice. "Just tryna tell me what I'm gonna think about everything, damn. I don't even know what I'm gonna think about everything. I don't go around telling you you're gonna think my shit's fucking annoying next week." Razi considers that question for a moment, making a sound as if his lips might have parted to offer a response, but he takes a longer moment in his reply. "I suppose because I believe it," he finally lands upon. "But I will keep the thought to myself next time, since it bothers you." And there's a hint of soothe to the way his hand smoothes down Javi's side. Javi watches Razi in that silence, his head raised just enough that he can see his face, but he's still relaxed -- and when the answer comes, his touch on the other man's face becomes a little more soothing, too. "You can say whatever you want, lindo," he murmurs. "It don't bother me. I'm just saying. If I end up hating it, I'll let you know. You don't have to try and guess." His lips brush against Razi's jaw, before his head settles onto his shoulder. He's definitely soothed, if he needed to be. "I get it," he concedes after a little pause of his own. "Probably why I don't do long things, either." Probably not because he's controlling, but maybe whatever annoying thing he has. "You've got plenty of time for something long later," Razi says, in that way older people sometimes do that it totally obnoxiously patronizing without realizing. His breath is coming deeper now, enjoying the weight of Javi there resting against him. A moment of silence settles a bit, the stroke of his fingers thoughtless and unceasing, and then he wonders, "What /does/ 'lindo' mean?" Javi doesn't reply to //that//, just snorts and shakes his head, though since it doesn't come up off Razi's shoulder it just rolls a little bit from side to side before it settles again. He lets the silence stretch as long as it will, without any attempt to interrupt it, savoring the absent touches on his back -- but he's perfectly happy to answer Razi's question. "Handsome," he replies. "Sorry. I know you don't know Spanish. Just comes out sometimes still." "Ah." A smile ghosts at Razi's lips, tugging a bit wider with a rare amount of ease for him. "No, it's all right. I'm not bothered, I was just curious." Another silence settles, punctuated by the fingertips along Javi's back. And then he says, "You're, ah. Very good at that, by the way." "Okay. Well, yeah. That's what it means." Javi's fingers start to brush against his face again, mapping his jaw, then the curve of his neck. There's no real change in him when the compliment comes, either -- but after all, why should there be? Maybe his hand stills for an instant, but it's also possible that the slightly haphazard pattern of his touches is returning now that he's relaxed. "Mm hmm." His head stays down on Razi's chest, but again, it's not really notable. He's comfortable where he is. "I know." There's a little huff, not much more than a breath this time. "Everyone's got things they're good at, right? But you're right up there with me." Something in Javi's response has Razi's smile fading a touch. Not all the way to a frown, but there's something thoughtful in his features -- that will likely have to go unseen by Javi, considering his position. "I think there's a great many things I would praise you for before this one," he says, his voice a touch softer. "Just one item somewhere on the list that seemed relevant in context." Javi does not see it, no. But he also doesn't seem tense, or like there's been some misstep, and when he does finally lift his head again, his smile is still sitting easily on his face. "It was relevant," he assures him. "I like knowing you liked it. When you're making me cum like ten times in a row I wanna make you feel good, too." His smile pulls wider again as he pushes himself up a little more so that he can look down into Razi's face. "I know you like me, Razi. Don't worry." There's the little twitch of his lips that happens when he's obviously holding back a laugh, but the expression on his face is pretty fond, even though he shifts carefully off, and then stands. Not to leave the other man by himself, though -- he reaches down to tug on his hand to pull him along with him. "Want a shower?" He asks it, even if he also seems pretty certain of the answer. Javi may hold back the laugh, but Razi -- well, the huff of breath that follows isn't /quite/ a laugh, but it's somewhere in the vicinity. And when Javi reaches to take his hand, Razi shifts in the bed before finally rising, taking a moment to deal with the condom as he says, "Seems like admitting we're done for the evening, but yes, I would." And the turn of his gaze back to Javi is complemented by the humor curving his lips. And so he follows along. Showers are important. There's no holding back the laugh that comes after Razi's answer, and it's about equal parts amused and charmed. "Is that what happens when you hit forty?" Javi wonders, casting a speculative glance over his shoulder at the other man as he starts them toward a door that must be the bathroom. "You're only allowed to take one shower a night?" He uses the hold he has on him to tug him close, down into a kiss that has plenty of heat behind it despite the lingering sense of relaxation from what just happened. "We're //definitely// not done," he murmurs when it breaks, and the smile on his face is very different when he pulls him into the bathroom to prove it. | |