Tria 18, 81381 “Good," Cayson said with some finality. There was something about Requiem. It wasn't the fact that he was the lead singer of one of the most popular rock bands on Ramath-lehi. Although, before meeting him Case had admired him simply for that reason. He had a sort of glamour on the stage that was even more impressionable when in person. It was Requiem's words that made him think deeper though. Angel? Saviour? Was he really any of those things? It felt strange to even consider himself in that sort of light. “I think I love you." Could that be? Cayson felt flustered. One part of him wanted to simply dive into Requiem. To forget about everything else and throw himself at the other's feet. Surely he wasn't worthy of such lavish praise, but perhaps in time he would be. If Requiem gave him the chance to prove himself. “Love..." Cayson purred, a light rumble in his throat. Due to Requiem's closeness, Case could make out his heartbeat. It was a strange, alive, yet fascinating thing. Even Radin had never quite lit him up like this before. Speaking of Radin, what would he think of Requiem? No. It wasn't worth mulling over. Radin was his good friend and all, but that was where the line had been drawn. “Love," he repeated. “I think that maybe I love you as well. I think I've got a better understanding of just what love is these days. Tea or coffee on Dympui would be great. Ah, I should probably give you my number."
ooc. <s>-is stupid and forgot timestamp-</s> Wait. You wrote it. ic. After he had spoken his bit, Requiem was more than content to listen to what Cay had to say. In all actuality, he was more comfortable with listening than he was with speaking, and was quite relieved that it was the other boy's turn to spill forth sentences as was his wont. After all... he didn't have very many words lurking within his throat, waiting to be heard. No, indeed. As habit would have it, Requiem's verbal inspiration was as blank as snow. “Sounds perfect." ‘Quiem shifted closer to him and did not resist, daring for a moment to look straight into his eyes again, only to see him looming closer and closer and – - their lips collided in a romantic car crash. His body grew hot and something in his loins stirred, ached. And without any more words he rushed over and pressed himself against the other boy, following his instincts and resting each palm over his chest, leaned in to softly kiss his lips, his cheek, the hollow of his throat, and his collarbones. Shifting away from him and grabbing a pen from his pocket, Requiem held out his hand flat to Cayson. "Write your number?"
Why was Requiem so appealing? It was almost enough to drive the orange pelted arden mad. Instead he held on with restraint, using every bit of energy in order to keep himself composed. Was this how Koani always seemed so poised? It almost hurt to continue acting rationally and not on his impulses. Either Requiem didn't have that same restraint, or perhaps he simply didn't believe in it. Cayson found himself caught by a hot kiss. His blond hair fell in front of his eyes as he pulled himself into the kiss. Unseeing, uncaring, he let his hands brush over the contours of Requiem's back and sides. Again he was being assaulted by soft kisses and touches. Cay could feel that greedy creature in the depths of his chest roaring for more. He seemed to ache and itch. What a disease this was. “Ack... you're killing me. I hope you realize that." He said as he took the offered pen from Requiem and surveyed the canvas in front of him. He grasped Requiem's hand with his left in order to steady it. Taking his time now, Cayson slowly wrote down his digits. His printing was impeccably neat. He finished off by circling the number and scribbling in a few flame markings as he grinned. “Better not lose that now." He gave the pen back to Requiem. Was he getting enough oxygen? Cayson swore he was feeling a little lightheaded now. Butterflies had decided to gather and form a legion in his stomach. It was almost as if he had just signed a binding contract.
Requiem's lips hesitated as Cay pulled away and wrote his number down, as if he could not breathe without him. Within seconds of his final scribblings, the boy had nuzzled into CaseÂ’s throat, holding him tight and feeling his cheek pressed against his own. The rockstar, so tampered with, could not find an answer to Cay's words, and it momentarily stunned him. Requiem, young adult though he was, was sometimes a "babe in arms" when it came to instinct, to emotion, sometimes to his own wants and needs. When he hungered, he ate. Weary, he rested. But this tickling, burning discord was foreign. "LetÂ’s hope that doesnÂ’t happen, mhm?" Oh... gods. At the sound of his voice, every rational thought dropped from his mind. Now how was he supposed to go about the art of seduction - an art that Requiem knew the basics of but not the exact procedure or method of execution - if he tempted him so? He pressed nearer, kissing his collarbones and wrapping his arms around Cayson, rubbing his hand in firey circles at the small of his back.
“Oh yes," he agreed. To lose touch with Requiem after they had just met would be awful, if not heartbreaking. Certainly the life of a rock star was big indeed. Certainly it was also filled with models, glamour and other such things that went hand in hand with success. Would Cayson be forgotten after this night? It seemed unlikely, yet at the same time, quite plausible. Cay's own fame wasn't much of a big thing. His “world wide" fame was only a byproduct of Koani's. All it was was bothersome. He'd been content back when only those who went to Janardan knew his name. Case had been the life of their parties. The one with the most “friends." He'd thrived on being social. Being called out as Koani's son had happened too fast. That, coupled with his breakup with Riot? It was enough to make him feel like crawling under a rock. Here he was with a new boy though. A wonderful, delightful arden, whose every move seemed to supply Cayson with electricity. How he missed hugs. The kisses were one thing, but to have another's arms wrapped about him? It was bliss. Cay pulled Requiem into a tighter hug when he felt the yki wrap his arms about him. He could feel his heart thudding underneath his clothing. Case held Requiem firmly. Then he sighed. It was a heavy sigh. One that Cayson had been carrying along with him for quite some time now. It felt wonderful to have it out of his system. Almost as if a burdening weight had suddenly been removed from his heart. “Mm," he purred, “I'm not sure how I'm going to let you go tonight."
"Neither am I," he said quietly, kissing the hollow of Case’s throat. In contrast with both his own former tone and Cayson’s current, it was soft – steady, but still strangely quiet. The slight tilt of the head appeared to be developing into a habit and the Cheshire Cat would’ve envied his smile, not to mention Colgate models. One hand abandoned the pocket, hooking two fingers into Cay’s trouser lining – something else that was becoming a habit. He liked physical contact. Close, physical contact. Irony would have a field day with Requiem’s personality if it was ever opened up for examination; something he’d let happen as soon as a post-mortem before the occurrence of death. And very slowly, very subtly, he leant forward – eyes closed, hair falling back into its natural place across his expressive eyes. With his head at a slight angle, he caught Cay’s lips in a Hollywood kiss that would take at least five takes to sort out for a professional actor. Short - the perfect length at 6 seconds. Characteristically gentle. Completely out of place. And so fuckin’ triumphant would’ve been half of the story.
