rosebyanyother | duplicity inbox

[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?

[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.

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.]

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