elfhame | Doggone it.

Doggone it.

It's the typical early Friday evening in the office - all the appointments have been seen to, the last of the current walk-ins left fifteen minutes ago, and it's just Anders and his receptionist left at the front.

"As soon as you're done with the paperwork from that one you can go," he says. They're a half-hour away from closing and from what he overheard between her and his intern, she's got a second date planned tonight. He... does not. Somewhat the opposite, really. A microwave lasagna and hanging out with his cat while watching Netflix in his apartment above the office are his exciting plans.

"Are you sure?" Lirene asks, but there's no real intent behind the question. She'd prefer to take off early and he can't blame her. Anders waves her out and she's gone in a few moments, leaving the office feeling large and lonely. There aren't even any boarders tonight.

"Oh well," he says to the empty waiting room before grabbing the broom and starting to clean up. There's work to be done and it's not going to do itself. Unfortunately.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nathaniel stopped taking notes after like the twentieth line item on this massive order. Now he's just. Sort of staring.

"I'm...really glad you asked me out," he says faintly. "Maker, I'd have been too intimidated to say yes if I'd known."

The staring is odd. Anders meets Nathaniel's gaze before shrugging and looking down at his nearly empty plate.

"I... It's just helping out." He hadn't had much of anything for most of his life, and he wants to make sure there's better out there. "I may also have, um, a slight criminal record for... protesting a little vigorously. If you remember the paint incident a couple of years back, I was one of those arrested."

When the foster care system failed kids, kids died. So somehow it had made sense to toss red paint at Rendon Howe and his bodyguards because red and blood and he doesn't regret it, but it definitely isn't his proudest moment.

"And the, um. Statue that came down last year. I take a lot of what goes on... personally."

Hopefully that doesn't send the man running.

There is something of a pause after that. Nathaniel is trying to figure out at what point the man who threw red paint at his father looked at him, knowing who he is, and said yes, he wanted to go on a date.

"I, erm." Another long pause. He sets down his spoon and coughs. "So...after Dad got red paint thrown on him, he came home and his--" a chuckle escapes "--his face was as red as the paint. And he went around terrorizing the servants, Delilah and I were laughing for weeks. You just...you made him seem like a person, even to us. It gave us hope. Like we'd been given a sign from the outside. I can't believe that was you, that--"

He stops and bows his head because he's laughing too hard.

He waits a little anxiously, and soon feels not just relieved, but happy. Somehow that act of defiance had paid off. Anders grins at the laughing man, finishing off his food as Nathaniel keeps laughing. After a few moments he reaches over to gently rest fingertips on the back of Nate's hand. Business is settled, by the looks of it, and he deeply wants just a little bit of touch with Nathaniel.

"You've no idea how glad I am it helped you. I'd thought it had no impact, that it was just a show of rebellion that wouldn't change anything other than blunt the edge of his ego for a short time." And make him mad and dumb and outmaneuverable for a short time too, had been the real hope.

He shrugs again, still smiling. "These are my people. I don't like seeing them suffer and struggle, and when I can do something to help, I do."

Nathaniel feels his face go red from the laughter, redder from the touch of Anders' hand. Once he stops laughing, the grin doesn't go away.

"My father is easily humiliated, and doesn't easily forgive that." The grin wanes a touch. "Just don't let it be known. He didn't get a good look at you--and believe me, he tried to get you arrested for assault, but the cameras never caught anything that led to you. Delilah is safe, but anyone else with my family, it's best they not know about that. And of course I won't tell anyone."

What a magnificent blush that is.

"Luckily I'm very good with getting away." He grins back. "The stories I could tell about running away from my foster families... Some of them didn't deserve to have to put up with me, let me tell you. And don't worry. I'll not flaunt what I've done. I may not be the most secretive person, but I know when not to mention my... alternative activities. It means I can continue to act."

He's probably on a list somewhere for the emails he sends, but he's never crossed the line in a fashion that would label him danger enough to scoop up or put under surveillance. His fingers trace over the back of Nathaniel's hand lightly.

"It also may mean I can continue to see you, and I'm growing increasingly convinced that I'd like to."

At first he'd just wanted a lay. Now he's getting curious about the man himself.

Nathaniel looks flattered, then somewhat crestfallen. He draws his hand away--not insistently, but very gently, placing it in his lap. The touch does not offend him, but he's giving Anders another out.

"Anyone dating me would be very much in the public eye," he says softly. "I have the impression that you would be even less happy to lead a double life than I."

It's... a fair concern. He considers this for a moment, sipping his water, before shrugging.

"We may be getting ahead of ourselves. We may find that we don't make good dating partners for each other. Perhaps you like dogs too much, or I like cats too much. Maybe you're used to dating people of better incomes than I have, or I get self-conscious when dating up quite this high. We won't know until we try, will we?"

He's let a lot of opportunities slip by him. Hasn't pursued, hasn't tried, because it all felt selfish. But there's something very attractive about this man beyond his grey eyes, the shape of his biceps, and how he looks blushing.

"Maybe it won't work out at all. Or maybe it will, and it will be worth every effort it takes. Will you take the risk with me, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel has never done a real relationship. He's spent too many years hiding from his parents' screaming matches. Now he and Delilah are in their own place, paid for by their father, and she has started seeing her gentleman friend, he's started to wonder if there might be room in his life for someone. That maybe the household he grew up in isn't really the cellular form of the entire world. There are people like this who actually strive to do what is right, rather than sapping others and claiming it's their right. Nathaniel has spent so many years trying to make his own world livable. Maybe he needs to venture outside, for once.

In answer to Anders' question, he leans in over the table to press their lips together. Maybe it's a little forward, but he doesn't press the matter if Anders ducks back.

He doesn't pull back, even with as unexpected as the move is. Nate's lips are dry and warm, and there's just a little brush of that patch of hair - it's perfect and the best answer he could want.

"Would you like to come back to my place?" Tonight being just for business can go out the window. It's been a very long time since he's been caught up in the butterfly-stomach excitement of attraction.

A soft laugh. "I would, yes." Maker, how can Anders have been working all day in a vet's office and still smell that amazing? He has no idea, and is still reeling even as he flags down a server to pay for the food and box everything up. This, this feels marvelous, being impulsive and romantic and allowing himself to get caught up in the moment. Seizing the moment.

He collects the bag with their food and holds the door open for Anders on the way out.

What a roller-coaster tonight has been. Anders takes Nathaniel's hand as soon as they're out of the restaurant because he can. The way this man laughs and opens up and... everything, just everything, have him excited by possibilities.

The walk back feels both way too long and lightning quick, and it's with slightly shaky hands that Anders lets them both into the Clinic and then into the apartment upstairs. It's a little shabby, Ikea couch and table in front of a smaller tv on a decent stand. There's an orange tabby cat that looks up from her spot in front of the tv but doesn't budge.

"Couch or..." He can't believe he's feeling a little shy as he tilts his head toward the dark bedroom.

Holding hands has Nathaniel excited like he's a little boy with his first crush. He squeezes that hand back as he's led into the apartment, and Anders' question has him blushing a little again.

"Bedroom," he answers, his voice a little huskier than before. He's glad his shirt is not tucked in or he'd have been rather embarrassed walking about in public the way he did.

Thank everything he keeps the place tidy, he thinks at that answer. Anders closes the distance between himself and Nathaniel, fisting his hands in the man's shirt as he shifts to tiptoes and kisses Nathaniel hard. Then he's backing up a little blindly, pulling the man with him back into the bedroom before fumbling to turn the light switch on.

The room is just as sparsely decorated, low bed with dark blue bedspread, a bookshelf filled with books on veterinary medicine next to a low dresser. He's not giving Nathaniel a whole lot of time to look around, though, hands already moving to get the other man's shirt off. Not like he thinks Nate really wants to look around, with what he can feel pressed against his thigh.

The first kiss causes goosebumps all the day down Nathaniel's arms, and each one from there is more passionate than the last. Soon, they're all running together, and Nathaniel feels like he is getting drunk off sweet kisses. They only part as Nathaniel's half-unbuttoned shirt is lifted over his head, followed by the undershirt, proving Nathaniel is, to use the technical term, ripped.

He doesn't pause to let Anders take in the sight, too preoccupied with extracting Anders from his own shirt.

He grunts at the all-too-brief glimpse of Nate, blindly moving a hand to glide over the man's chest before he's helping to yank his t-shirt off. Anders is, unlike Nate, on the scrawny side. He's not starved and he's not weak, but he's certainly smaller.

"I want you on top of me," he growls as he gets Nathaniel's pants open, promptly sliding a hand in and feeling Nate through his underwear. The man feels just the right sort of thick and Anders hardens the rest of the way as he imagines taking this. "Please tell me you like topping. I switch, but Maker, do I want you inside me tonight."

His shoes get kicked off as they get closer to the bed, now focusing on getting Nate out of his pants before they land on the mattress.

That gets a wicked grin from Nathaniel, a gleam coming into his eye right before he shoves against his chest hard enough to send him careening back onto the bed. Nothing painful or dangerous, but enough to give, perhaps, a thrill. He smoothly slides out of his jeans and underwear before climbing on top of Anders. He leans in to murmur in his ear.

"I like topping," he purrs before capturing an earlobe with lips and tongue.

He topples to the bed, heart pounding, and gets a fantastic eye-full before Nathaniel's words and voice have him shivering underneath the man.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, reaching down to undo his own pants and arching his back so he can start scooting them off. Nathaniel is warm and heavy on top of him, mouth perfect. "You like being a little rough too, I see," he says with clear approval in his voice.

Finally he's got his pants and boxers down enough that he can keep working them the rest of the way down with his legs, which means his hands are free to explore the glorious body on top of his. The work Nathaniel must do to look like this... Anders is even more attracted to the man now and he'd not thought that possible.

"And you're gorgeous from eyes to ass too," he says as his hands settle on the latter and squeeze.

Nathaniel has to pause to admire the man beneath him. Slender and sweet and golden, although Nathaniel has to pause and undo his hair, running his fingers through it once it's loose. He flushes a little at the compliment, but allows it.

"You're--" he can't use the word gorgeous because Anders just did "--you're radiant. Magnificent. Look at you, all spread out for me." He kisses behind the same ear, then down his throat. "You smell so good."

His hand curls around a hip, thumb brushing over soft skin.

Anders likes being looked at, likes it a great deal, and he raises an eyebrow before spreading his legs a bit more. If that's what Nathaniel likes, then he's absolutely going to get it. He's very willing to give when his partner is paying attention to his hair like that.

The smell comment gets a laugh from Anders even as he tilts his head back to give Nathaniel more access to neck and throat. Nathaniel smells... manly, for lack of a better word, musky and strong.

"Since I have to wash up after patients so often, the soaps in the exam rooms are nice ones." His hands slide up the small of Nathaniel's back, up to the man's shoulders. "It leaves my hands soft, and I'm glad you like the scent too." Anders rubs a foot along the back of one of Nate's calves, savoring the way the man changes between a little rough and gentle. He feels safe like this, somehow.

"The lubricant and condoms are in the little nightstand to your left," he says, "though that's not to rush you. It's so I don't forget as things continue. I could absolutely go on like this for a while, your cock against my stomach, weight on me, lips on me."

Anders shifts down to find Nathaniel's lips with his own again, kissing slowly and deeply.

"Mmmm," Nathaniel moans into the kiss. There's something different about this time, as opposed to his one-night stands. This is someone he connects with. Every touch, every slide of skin, feels more intimate and more giving, so taking it slow feels right. He wants to enjoy this, to linger in it.

"Noted," he answers at last as he begins kissing down Anders' throat again. The hand on his hip slides up his side till he begins drawing circles around one nipple. "I like feeling you move against me. I wonder how long I could tease you before you begged for it?"

There's a change atmosphere from the rushed beginnings to this, slow kisses and touches and taking time. Fear mixes with the arousal; any time he's genuinely taken the time to care about someone, to get involved, he's lost them. And yet there's something about Nathaniel that makes him feel like this time the risk might be worth it.

His breath catches in anticipation as Nathaniel's fingers circle and circle without quite getting there, and is released with a quiet chuckle.

"I like to beg," he murmurs. Anders rocks his hips slowly against Nathaniel's, having all the encouragement he needs to keep doing that. "You'd find it very easy to make me do so, unless you wanted me to hold out. Frankly, you'd find it very easy to have me do a great many things. I'm flexible and willing, and I'd very much like it if you pinched my nipple, hard."

He lightly ranks his short nails down Nathaniel's back, trying to give a little encouragement.

Nathaniel's hand stills, poised over that nipple. He pulls up and gives Anders a little smile, waiting for something.

Was this truly the man that was blushing not even an hour ago? He meets Nathaniel's gaze and savors the way it feels to balance there for a few moments before he's swallowing and looking down at the hand on his chest. So close...

"Please," he says. "Do it, please, Nathaniel."

His fingers close around the nipple and pinch, hard, eyes intent on Anders', watching for his reaction.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject