rosebyanyother | duplicity inbox

[Well! The first gift is fascinating and thoughtful and Peter is very enamored by it. The note is curious and Peter ends up quite literally puzzling over it a bit until he finds the second secret compartment.

...But first there's the extra presents, which he is...confused by. Not insulted by but...well, as much as Sally has idly flirted with him, she's never made any real kind of advance on him. Not that this is an advance. He doesn't find it horrifically inappropriate either. It's just something new.

The next time he sees her - poking his head into the living room in the early evening and then disappearing for a second - he carries the dildo in one hand, expression curious.]

I wanted to thank you for the gift you sent. I can't wait to try out all those shades. Particularly the special ones.

...But I have to ask, where did you pick this up? Did it come from a catalogue? I'm not sure how practical it is, really, but as an art piece.....

[It's the rocket ship design. Peter just isn't sure how comfortable it would be.]

[Peter glances over his shoulder and then laughs.]

I'm fairly certain it's a conscious design choice. Not to worry, most of the shop isn't quite as avant-garde. You know, they put the most eye-catching things in the window.

[He pulls open the shop door and gestures Jon inside.]

[ By now, Sally knows that some of her gifts have arrived to her friends with one or two 'extras', so she isn't completely dumbfounded when she turns ( from her comfortable lounging position on the couch ) and spots-- oh dear jesus christ. This is HER house too how did the mail ninjas sneak them past her?! ]

Oh for fucking fuck's sakes [ she mutters under her breath, not without feeling her face heat up unpleasantly. She shifts and stands in stale exasperation, standing extra tiny sans six inches of heel. Incidentally, not many people ever see her without her shoes. ]

I have no idea where that came from. The gifts I sent out keep showing up with... with... unintentional extras, and it sounds like a bloody awful excuse to be a shit-- but I promise I'm not. I really didn't...

[ Okay now that she's actually looking at the thing...]

... is that a rocket ship dildo?

[Jon eyes the displays dubiously before heading inside.]

Any plans for Valentine's yourself?

[A pause.]

Er... have you actually still got Valentine's Day in the future?

It is, in fact, a rocket ship dildo.

[Knowing that she didn't actually send this part - presumably not the thong or lube either - makes Peter's expression shift to an amused smile. He regards the strange sex toy in his hand for a moment more and then sets it down.]

Don't worry, I believe you. [With a blush like that....well, it isn't as if it couldn't be manufactured too, but honestly Peter doesn't think so.] And honestly I wasn't upset in the first place, just a little...bewildered.

Really, though, the lipstick palatte is wonderful. You're a sweetheart.

[Peter makes his way over and then bends down to kiss Sally on the cheek.]

I believe it's still celebrated on the solar planets, sometimes. And on Earth of course.

But I have to admit, I was a little surprised to hear you say you were going on a date for it. As far as I know, the celebration is more about friends and family and the harvest...and involves slaughtering pigs and eating them with chocolate.

[If Peter is pulling Jon's leg, his poker face is extremely good.]

Which is to say, I had no particular plans. It doesn't sound up my alley.

[Jon gives Peter a look like he's an alien, head cocked to one side. Which is, on reflection, wholly accurate.]

Uh- no. That's not what Valentine's Day started out as. And pigs and chocolate sound disgusting. [A pause.] Although, I remember a chocolate-dipped bacon craze from a few years ago.

[Probably not the same thing.]

Valentine's Day in my time is a commercialized couples holiday. You're meant to be horribly romantic and renew your love, exchange gifts. Honestly, I thought Martin would like it. He's a hopeless romantic.

Edited 2020-03-11 14:04 (UTC)

[ Well then, a glass rocket ship shaped dildo. Maybe they can use it as interesting decor? A conversation piece? If Sally can look at it and not feel too horribly embarrassed. It helps that Peter's being so gracious about it-- that's certainly not the only reaction she could have gotten. She's relieved to hear he believes her, too-- maybe a little too much, as though she's accustomed to people not taking her at her word. ]

I can't say I blame you; I'd be bloody bewildered unwrapping that thing, too

[ The affection surprises her-- enough so that she looks mildly befuddled about what's happening right until Peter kisses her on the cheek. It startles her that she didn't see it coming-- that her brain was not accordingly cautious, especially considering she had just gifted him a special pallet with some less than ideal effects. She doesn't think he'd use them on her-- and that surprises her, too. This trust that she keeps forgetting she has like a pet that's adopted her.

She feels her face heat up again and doesn't care much to suss out why; friendship's affection is almost more awkward for her than the romantic kind; she understands what a man wants from her, when it comes to that kind of thing.

And she knows this isn't the same. For a long moment she just looks at him with an oddly innocent surprise, until a faintly flustered smile splits her lips and she looks away sheepishly, almost shyly and touches where her skin is warm from the little kiss. ]

You're very welcome. I'm... I'm happy you approve. Maybe I'm not such rubbish with gifts after all?... Unless you just poisoned me. That could also be it

[ she's teasing him, a little laugh leaving her as she dares a glance towards his face. ]

[Peter listens to the explanation of what Valentine's day used to be curiously.]

Well, that does sound more appealing. Stargazing seems appropriately romantic. [Now that they're in the store, he turns on his heel a bit, surveying what's on offer.] Let's see...we may as well start with a shirt.

[Saying that, Peter heads over to a few racks of button-downs first.]

[Jon follows along after Peter as the sales associates eye him critically. He's at least wearing decent clothes and his hair is more or less neat. Their eyes rove to Peter next and there's certainly far more interest there. He decides not to remark on it. Peter probably knows he's lovely to look at. No need to feed the ego.

The rack they go to seems to be nice enough. Nothing horribly glittery.]

I told Martin he ought to build a fire for me to really impress and make it properly romantic, honestly. He's far more handy than I am. At least for outdoors things. I think he grew up in the country.

[A pause.]

Where did you grow up? More in the city?

[In all honesty, it's hardly a surprise to Peter that Sally looks momentarily taken aback by his little bit of affection. People like them...they don't often get aimless affection sent their way. He would understand all too well that thought about affection that wants something, that's seeking something.

People like them, they're used to being used. (And using, of course, lest either of them be absolved of that. Peter knows what he is.) It's a shock when someone wants...nothing.

Though, really, in the long run Peter does not want nothing. It's why he smiles a bit at Sally's teasing there at the end. Though he is also smiling at her entire response. There's a certain amount of softness hidden behind an otherwise amused smile.]

Poisoning you would be a terrible mistake on my part. Where else am I going to find a contract partner quite as charming?

[It's flattery, of course, Peter could, he assumes. But it would be more work than he wants to put in.]

Whoever told you you're bad at gifts is clearly wrong.

[ Maybe it's a boon, this safety net of mutual dependency for at least an effortless comfort of living. They get to tell themselves it's easier to have the other around than to not, and it's a little too easy to leave the notion more or less undisturbed.

Except when stupid feelings get in the goddamn way and muck everything up. Doesn't matter what kind they are, romantic emotions aren't the only kind that make things complicated. But maybe she can just quickly enjoy the affection and then sweep it away without looking too closely as to why. ]

That's true; I am among the best of us [ she follows his flattery with playfully light arrogance, even if at her very core, she feels the opposite is true ]

No one told me, I just didn't really... have anyone to practice with? Giving gifts too, I mean. [ she frowns, carefully placing herself back onto the couch like a secretly self-conscious cat playing it cool ] Uhg, that sounded a bit depressing, didn't it? I did know people. Most of my classmates were boys, and if I gave one of them something, it would drive the other girls crazy. And the other boys, for that matter. At the time, the last thing I wanted was more needless drama

[Peter starts idly browsing through shirts as Jon talks, smiling a little at the idea of Martin building a fire for him. A bonfire on the beach, that does sound nice.

Then Jon is asking him a question and Peter takes a moment. At the very least, it's disguised as being distracted by a shirt, pale blue with a leafy pattern stretching across the front in a diagonal. He pulls it out and hums over it.

The truth is....the truth is that the truth tends to be something that he's habitually disinclined to tell. Though he's been honest with Jon before. And Crowley, once, partially. This is a broad question, though, isn't it? Broad truths don't have to be damning.]

Definitely more in the city. [He isn't a compulsive liar, after all. Just a strategic one.] The planet I'm from had to be heavily terraformed and living outside one was virtually impossible.

[Another truth...and one less broad. But if he'd only said 'yes' and nothing else...well that would have been vaguely suspicious and not very friendly. And Jon is his friend.

[Jon looks to one of the nearby racks, eyes glancing briefly over them, mostly for the color. His fingers linger over the texture of the different fabrics more than his eyes.]

I thought terraforming was supposed to make a planet habitable? At least in... sci-fi books I've read. [Right. This is Peter's actual life.] I suppose you have to start with a point and work outward, though. I was born in Bournemouth. It's by the sea. I moved to London when I was 18, though. It's the biggest city in my country. I prefer it. Much more... diverse people.

[Peter listens, coming around the other side of the couch to settle himself there too. They've talked a bit about themselves while they've had this arrangement but not very many personal things. He's curious.]

It sounds like you were popular, even back then.

[Popular....or hated. Probably popular though.]

I suppose you could put it that way [ she's a bit sarcastic, but the sentiment doesn't do too much to crumple her comfortable composure. This is not really her favorite topic, but at the same time, Peter is so far and removed from her world and its stupid social constructs that its a bit easier to talk to him about it. She doesn't want their amiable little conversation to devolve into something pitying-- people don't often know what to say after something like 'my whole family was killed when I was thirteen' thing. ]

I... guess you could say I lost my family to the war, and some bastard thought it would be smashing to write an article about it. Small towns, always lacking for finer entertainment

Plus, I was always rather brilliant. I aced all the advanced Mathematics and Chemistry courses, even though most of my classmates were boys, because it wasn't every girl who could talk her way into those seminars

Maybe I would have been a whole lot less interesting if we had a decent local pub

Like you said, one does have to start somewhere. Taranis was particularly tough. I'm not even sure, honestly, why the original settlers bothered.

[...He isn't a compulsive liar. Really. But for someone who has been lying for so much of his life about so much of his life, laying the truth bare feels...uncomfortable. Even small, inconsequential truths about his past. The discomfort isn't entirely unwarranted either. If he were somehow connected to his home planet back in his own universe, why....that could lead to some inconvenient revelations. The chances here are almost non-existent but almost is not none.

So. He lies about the name of his home planet, though not the other details.]

I understand, though. I left home at 16. Taranis is in the Outer Rim, terribly backwater, and I wanted to see the galaxy.

[That isn't wholly a lie either. Leaving Brahma had been like a breath of fresh air. Even if he had also been running.]

[Bournemouth had been less backwater and more... rich people with holiday homes all around their tiny little lot that their family had been living in since Jon's great-great-grandfather had been working as a fisherman. He supposes that tradition had stopped with him.

And the end of the world.]

How did you get off? Stowaway? Or charm yourself properly onto a ship?

I had enough to pay my way, actually. [How's that for your assumptions, Jon?] Not exactly the most luxurious cabin, but it was enough.

[It was practically a closet and it was the only passage he did come by legally, for some time. The stowing away and the charm came shortly after. (Charm...and some seduction.)

He turns the shirt in his hands around for Jon's inspection.]

What do you think?

O-oh! Right. [Well, now he feels like and ass. Jon focuses his attention on the clothes on his wrack, picking something random off that has... a ship on it. No. Not that. He puts it back as Peter draws his attention.]

That looks... nice enough. We just need the rest of the suit, then?

[He is absolutely willing to choose one option and run with it. It will save them time and the opportunity for Jon to shove his foot in his mouth again.]

[Well, that was quick.]

I said I wasn't going to bully you into trying on too much, but are you sure?

["Nice enough" isn't a ringing endorsement...although Peter can potentially understand that Jon might want to not compare too many different options. Some people don't like shopping quite as much as he does.]

I don't have any taste, Morrigan. As long as it's not, I don't know, neon, it's probably fine. I trust you to have a better eye for these things. [Jon winces slightly at himself and just presses on, choosing not to acknowledge the pun to himself.] I can try it on to see if it's uncomfortable, but it looks like a fairly standard shirt, doesn't it?

Edited 2020-04-09 05:08 (UTC)

I believe so.

[This is a lot of power, Jon. But no, Peter will be good. He takes one more look at the shirt and then shrugs. He thinks it's nice, in an understated but not entirely boring way.]

Right, so something nice and warm to go over that, since you'll be at the beach at night.

[He starts ushering Jon over to another part of the store, where there happens to be a nice selection of knitwear.]

[Jon's eyes actually light up at the knitwear, and for once, he actively engages with the clothes on the racks.]

That one might look nice with it...

[Admittedly, Jon likes a good sweater vest, cardigan, and jumper. It might become obvious to Peter very quickly that if he ever wanted to properly interest Jon in clothes, this would be the section to do it in. As it is, they settle on an outfit for Jon before he insists on Peter picking out something for himself. Stepping out of the store, he's well pleased with the selection and far less put upon than he thought he might be.]

Thanks, Morrigan.

[He'll offer the other man a small smile as they part ways. He is set for Valentines.]

[Jon knows he really should have sent this message days ago, but he's been so embarrassed, and then dealing with the tentacle creature nonsense and worrying himself over what that ritual had actually done, searching every book of lore he could find on sex rituals. There have been things to give him excuses for the distraction. But he... cares about Peter. And he can't leave it hanging for much longer.]

I wanted to apologize for what happened at the start of May.
I never intended to take advantage of you.
I'm so sorry, Morrigan.
I hope you can forgive me.
You were exceptionally accommodating and the effects of that ritual were on everyone.
That's really my only excuse for... crawling all over you.
I promise nothing like that will happen again if I can stop it.

[He seems to be more inclined to crawl all over the man when odd effects are on than he'd like to admit to, as well.]

Edited 2020-05-12 19:59 (UTC)

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