Title: ;; a makeshift hammock
Description: tag: Birdie and the Pixie-sticks!
Cooper Vale - March 13, 2010 11:38 PM (GMT)
The thing was a masterpiece as much as it was a monstrosity, and it stared at him, eyed him alluringly from across the room where it hung so effortlessly - of course, he'd hung it himself - and practiced the art of being compelling. It had already perfected it, he concluded to himself and turned his eyes back to the magazine he wasn't reading, glancing occassionally over at the giggling trio of teenage girls who were curiously poking the rows of all-shaped-sized-and-colors dildos he'd recently re-organized. Color-coordinated to the max, this time, but placement also decided by size (shape had proven more difficult to work with), and Cooper was certain (as he had been the last twenty times he'd done this) that he'd finally found the ultimate solution to his organization problem. He arched a brow as he regarded the three girls in their little Catholic school-skirts, plaid and pretty, with knee-high socks and dainty, black shoes. Tilting his head to the side, he observed them and their ways like a scientist observing the rituals of some animal, and he smiled to himself at the comparison. "Can I help you, ladies? Something in pink, may-haps?" Their giggles escalated to near squeals, and they turned - pinker than the merchandise - to look at him and shake their heads furiously in embarrassment, before gathering up their shattered courage and scurrying out of the shop. A scream of laughter sounded the moment they were outside, and they stumbled down the street. Cooper's eyes followed them, a slight smile grazing his lips as he watched them go. There was something so peculiar about schoolgirls...
Unimportant at the time being, however; with the giggly group gone, all that was left was him, a magazine detailing the lives of celebrities he couldn't give half an ass about, a shop empty of customers and a whole lot of merchandise, out of which only one piece held his current attention. The masterpiece, the monstrosity, whatever you wanted to call it, but as a matter of fact, it's more official name was "The Love Swing". It wasn't like it was something new, something he'd never seen before, but it was something he'd never tried before and had been curious about for far too long. He slapped his magazine shut - slapped, due to the slapping sound it made as the sheets of glossy paper smacked together - and tucked it into a shelf under the counter, before making the round to the front of the counter and glancing into the back-section (the porno central, as Cooper often referred to it, which could easily be said to be his area of expertise). He was satisfied after a glance that it was, in fact, empty. It wasn't the busiest time of day, which made it, according to Cooper, a complete waste of open-store hours. A drag, a bore, a restless period of time when all he wanted to do was shake things up and make the adult store owning profession interesting - it really should be interesting enough from the start, but no. But it was a profession, thank God, that supplied its very own entertainment when customers were nowhere to be found, and the only people who entered the store were wide-eyed schoolgirls with no intention (and certainly not the money) to buy anything. Peeping Sallies, and there was no way to stop them. Not that Cooper wanted to... After all, there was something so delightfully peculiar about them.
He stepped away from the counter, leaving the register behind and fixing his eyes on the un-used love swing expertly hung in one corner of the room. He'd seen people eyeing it and poking it every since it was put up - not even a handful of days ago, so far - and he had, in fact, being doing the very same thing, himself. What he needed was a partner willing to experiment with him, and so far, all these obviously curious customers had seemed miffed, irked or outright flabbergasted at his invitations to be that lucky partner, and when push came to shove, no one had taken him up on the offer. Madness. And now... Now he was alone with it, which meant that he didn't have to consider the disgrace it would be to be alone on the so-called "love" swing; a lonely lover? A rogue romantic? Obscene; he quite enjoyed the idea. Stepping lightly between aisles of various merchandise - he absent-mindedly picked up a Naughty Boy that had been somehow misplaced amongst the Bad Boys and put it back in its place as he moved (luckily, no Rude Boys had found themselves wrongly placed, or there would have been utter chaos) - he approached the swing with playful determination in his eyes, his hands smoothing the front of his white t-shirt with purple print - it featured the love pacifier teardrop, which was quite excellent in that its origin was not easily recognized - before slipping into dark jeans pockets as he went along. He finally found himself standing in front of the masterly monstrosity, and curiously reached out to tug lightly at one of the swings. A glance was cast around the place, a playful smile almost seeking recognition and finding none before it returned to the swing itself. His movements were almost delicate as he turned around and grasped both lines leading down to the flexible, padded seat, before pulling himself up and gliding onto it. He found himself clinging a moment later, clutching the lines while suppressing an uncontrollable chuckle that did not want to be suppressed, and fidgeted until properly positioned on the swing.
And there he sat.
His legs waved and kicked, ensured some motion before letting it die down. He waggled in his seat, curiously testing how well it straightened after being shaken. Finally, he bounced, casting a curious glance up at the hook that held it, noting that it did not seem inclined to give way after his few bounces. It wasn't a reliable test, he realized; he needed that partner and far more movement than he could ensure on his own, but the preliminary, unreliable tests showed promise, at least. It was disappointing, however, to find that empty second swing behind him, hanging so loosely and dejected all on its lonesome. He twisted a bit in his seat, took the empty swing and lifted it a bit, shook it a bit, pressed down on it, and before he knew it, he was leaning back into it, positioning it high on his back so as to make a chair. It worked like a charm, and he realized to his great joy and wonderment that this love swing made an excellent pseudo-hammock. Hands rose and landed on his abdomen, as he leaned back, finding that it was perhaps lacking a bit in head-and-neck support (seeing as there was none), but caring little at the time. He closed his eyes, smiling to himself as he forgot what the actual purpose of his hammock was and started on a particularly spicy daydream. It was a bittersweet thing when he heard the door - some door, he was frankly too preoccupied with his fantasies to make much notice of which precise door-sound it was - open and close, and realized that this could very well be a customer entering. He released a heavy sigh and considered sitting up and greeting the person properly, but decided against it in the long run and simply remained in his current position while gathering air and voice into a lazy greeting. "Welcome to the Slap'n'Tickle," he drawled in his native Valdosta accent, "If you need, or want, anything slapped or tickled, I'm your man." He raised a hand as he said it, playing the part of the eager volunteer - though his body-language didn't exactly depict his eagerness correctly - before letting it drop down again and land on his stomach.
Pax Whitby - March 14, 2010 01:10 AM (GMT)
It was difficult to be a child of nature in Bishop City in the cold clutches of early March, Pax thought wryly as he trudged through the remains of slushy snow that coated the sidewalk between the subway station and the store. He was wrapped snugly in a black winter coat, which either made his shoulders appear broader or his person appear boxy - he could never quite decide which. A scarf that was just a bit too colorful - his mama had knitted it for him - was wound securely around his neck, obscuring it from view and protecting it from the menacing fingers of Prince Almost Spring. Gloveless hands were burrowed deeply into the pockets of his coat, but despite that, his fingers felt like they were frozen into the fist that he had originally made to preserve warmth. To complete the image, he walked with his shoulders hunched up to his ears to expose as little skin as possible.
His cheeks were stinging at the mercy of the wind, but at least he was almost there. He could see the sign from where he was now, and he focused his eyes on it, the finish line where he would finally escape from the weather. Just as he was putting the final stretch behind him, a group of girls exited the establishment, all of them apparently in a hurry. They were giggling madly, and as they scurried past him, he could see that their cheeks were as pink as his, though he doubted that it was for the same reasons. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he half turned his head after them, catching excited comments like 'did you see that?', 'that's disgusting', and 'can you believe that people actually...' Was there anything more sweetly curious than a teenage girl? To them, sexuality was a mystery to be solved, a delicious mystery that belonged to a grown up world that they so longed to be a part of, even if it at times horrified them to learn the details of what goes where.
He reluctantly extracted a hand from his pocket, his fingers wrapping themselves around the cold metal that made up the door handle. The door slid open effortlessly, greeting him with the merry jingle that was designed to notify whoever was 'on call'. A groan, on the verge of being indecent, escaped him as the shock of warmth inside found his skin. He started to unwind his scarf as he walked further into the store. Today, the dildoes were organized by color, he noted with a smile. It never ceased to amuse him that this particular display was forever in development. It was almost like an on-going surprise, to walk into the store and see what kind of mood Cooper was in that day. In the mood for color? Size? Price? Rating?
Scarf unwound, he let it hang like a loose tie around his neck while he set about unbuttoning his coat, and just as he got the first one loosened, Cooper's voice rang out from the back, his trademark cheek employed as always: "Welcome to the Slap'n'Tickle!" And a warm welcome it was, indeed, with Cooper's Southern drawl all hot and sultry, offering to slap and tickle per preference. Tough choice, tough choice.
Grinning playfully, he worked his way towards the sound of Cooper's voice, coat now fully unbuttoned and displaying the white dress shirt he had on underneath. He looked all wrong for his location, like he would be more at home on Wall Street (though it would surprise wives and grandmothers alike to see the clientele that the Slap'n'Tickle sometimes entertained), albeit at the end of a long day, when the brokers take their suit jackets off, scrap the tie and loosen the top button of their crisp shirts.
Navigating into the inner sanctum of the store, Pax caught sight of Cooper. He cocked his head slightly to the side, emitting a low pitched chuckle as he tried his darndest to - unsuccessfully - keep a straight face. He crossed his arms over his chest, coming to a halt directly in front of Cooper and taking a broad legged stance. "My, my, what have we here?" He quirked a single eyebrow, rife with amusement. "Don't you look terribly lonely..."
Phoenix Delafield - March 14, 2010 06:15 PM (GMT)
Scenery rolling by from the frame of a car window was a familiar way for Phoenix to view the world. The latter end of his childhood and his teenage years had been spent in such a way, often slumped to the side, with his head resting against the glass, as the sides of motorways flowed past, or sitting bolt up right, watching towns, cities, mountains, rivers and coastlines opening out ahead of him. Currently, it was not so inspiring as all that. It was simply the well known roads that lead him from the North End of the city to the shop he co-owned. His eyes drew lazy paths through the crowds as the taxi driver slowed down the car at a crossing and Phoenix, watching a business man pull out of his phone, decided to follow suit, to check for messages. Rather than neatly remaining in his hand as he pulled it from his pocket, the phone caught on the edge of his pocket and jumped out, landing with a thud on the floor. Phoenix frowned down at it, where it lay, screen facing upwards with apparent reproach. “What do you expect, if you keep jumping out of my pocket?” He questioned, as he bent down to pick it up. Unlocking it when prompted he soon saw that after all that, no one had tried to contact him since he last checked, as he was getting into the taxi. Oh well. It meant that he probably wouldn’t have any appointments to attend over the next few days, which was probably a good thing, he acknowledged as his gaze travelled down from his phone to his wrist, the angle of his arm causing the material of his sleeve to droop down. A rather defined set of rope burns adored the tender skin of the inside of his wrist and looped the whole way around, repeated again on his other arm and really it would be best if they had faded somewhat before he took his next client, particularly if they weren’t into the kinkier side of things. His recent markings were from the tail end of last night and into this morning; a new woman who was rather fond of bondage, and had quickly discarded the softer bindings for something more rough and ready. Phoenix didn’t mind, being tied up wasn’t exactly a new experience, and he’d certainly had stranger, more disturbing and painful requests during his time as an escort. The only problem really were the injuries left behind, as some of his more regular customers didn’t like to see ‘marks of use’ on him.
Pocketing his phone once again, Phoenix pushed his sleeves down firmly and went back to his careful consideration of the world outside. It wouldn’t be long until he was at the shop, he realised, as he ticked off some familiar locations and he felt the usual thrill of happiness at the thought of being in the shop, with his friends. He had only been there the day before, and yet anticipation made him sit up straighter. In preparation, Phoenix pulled his wallet from his pocket and drew out a few crisp notes, placed into his hand only a hour or so ago by his pleased customer. Since leaving her, he had been home to shower and change, before heading out again, unwilling to stay alone in his apartment longer than necessary. The taxi turned down the road which the shop was on, and Phoenix’s upright position turned into an excited bounce as he saw the familiar figure of Pax entering the shop just ahead of him. Perfect timing. The car stopped, and the young English man handed his payment to the driver, exiting the vehicle with a loud, breezy, thank you. Bounding up the curb, Phoenix had little time to notice the frigid temperatures after the warmth of the car, as it was only moments before he was pushing the door of the shop open.
The shop was quiet when he entered, devoid of customers and there was no one behind the front desk, which wasn’t unusual really, it was around the time of day where there tended to be a lull. Despite the fact that he had seen Pax only moments earlier, a familiar chill of fear crawled over Phoenix’s skin as the silence of the place seemed to beat down on him. Then the sound of voices reached him and he exhaled, releasing collected tension from his chest. It was not a rare thing; a quiet room, and yet fear, guilt and grief lurked in each corner. Bad. He was not supposed to think about those kind of things. With determination, he shrugged out of his coat, and placed it on the counter, before proceeding to the back of the shop. As he went, Phoenix tugged down the sleeves of his jumper, curling his fingers in the material, so his hands were hidden from view. It was a somewhat childish gesture, he liked how it felt. His destination reached, he came upon a slightly strange sight or what might have been considered strange in any other place, perhaps in any other adult shop. By now, he was used to not knowing exactly what to expect each time he walked into the shop, which was part of the reason why he loved it so much. Today, it was Cooper reclining in the newly installed love swing, with Pax standing near by and Phoenix didn’t bother to hide his mirth at the situation, laughing softly as he approached. He had to admit that the whole scene sent his far from innocent mind racing, initially recalling a customer of his who had been rather fond of that particular prop before skipping over fact and flowing straight into fantasy. Who could blame him?
Phoenix came to a halt next to Pax, watching Cooper as he lounged in the ‘love swing’, light blue eyes dancing with amusement. “He does look awfully lonely.” He agreed, hamming up his English accent to some extent to a practised level of prim and proper, deliberately out of place in the discussion of a sex swing. Comfortably, at ease as he always was around his two friends, Phoenix reached out, his hand slipping under Pax’s open coat, so that he could wrap an arm around the older man’s waist. Lightly, he dropped a quick kiss to the other’s cheek, the skin frozen beneath his lips and then dropped his head to rest against Pax’s shoulder, his free hand crossing over to toy with one end of his brightly coloured scarf. The material draped over his fingers, covering them, with his thumb on top, and he ran it over the soft material, feeling the texture and the uneven surface of the weave, drinking in the colours as he did so. For a brief moment he was utterly distracted by the object in his hand, as he considered the materiality of it and he wondered if it had been made by Pax’s mum. It looked like one of her creations, the rather special woman who had so willingly taken Phoenix and Cooper under her wing, cast adrift as they both were from their parents, for various reasons. Phoenix couldn’t really remember his mother ever knitting for him. He doubted she would have had the patience or the focus for it, or at least she would for the first third of the scarf and then she would abandon it.
The scarf slipped through his fingers, and he reached out for something else to fill it, his hand closing around on of the straps of the ‘love swing’ and he gave it a slight, playful tug, to put some movement into the object. “Cooper is lonely and needs company, Paxxy feels cold to me and needs warming up.” Phoenix said, slowly, a mischievous edge to his voice and expression, his musings on the scarf forgotten entirely now, as he spoke, blue eyes dancing between Cooper and Pax, as he lifted his head off the shoulder of the latter. Despite not longer leaning his head on the shoulder of his friend, he kept his arm around him, enjoying, as ever, the closeness of another body next to his, but this was not just any body, it was one of closest friends, and that made it extra special. And Pax always smelt delicious. “Two very urgent problems that must be solved immediately.” Phoenix decided, with a firm nod.
Cooper Vale - March 22, 2010 05:24 PM (GMT)
He could use a stirrup for his head. The thought almost made him giggle like one of the schoolgirls that had formerly flitted out of the store in a flurry of childish laughter and rosy cheeks, but he kept it in, kept it at a broadening smile on a head tilted so far back, he believed it would touch his back any moment now. It would have been preferable, to have support for his neck and head, to be able to greet whoever it was who had made the bell jingle with nonchalant ease, reclining in a love-swing - of course, didn't everyone have a love-swing to relax in? - offering sultry looks and steamy statements, as always. It helped that he was mildly sleepy, feeling the delightful consequences of the night before, a meeting of like minds to the drum of other like minds - he'd have to share that story for later, when the others arrived. With enthusiasm and elaborate hand gestures, he could entertain the masses for however long he could bare to talk of it without getting himself worked up again, or maybe tiring himself out?
Footsteps - Mr. Bell-Ringer, he assumed - approached, both light and heavy, hardly a stomp, a relaxed step, which already indicated to the closed-eyed Cooper that whatever body approached him now, it was one at ease with his surroundings. Even at ease with a man in a love-swing, so comfortably situated, and that thought made the corners of his mouth curve upwards ever so slightly. He hoped against hope, he envisioned three faces and imagined that maybe it would be one of them, and when the voice reached him... "My, my, what have we here?" He nearly released a squeal of excitement as it washed over him: Pixie-sticks! His head lifted immediately, lips shaping a beam, hazel-and-blue eyes opening to take in his oh-so-elegantly dressed companion with the blooming scarf, against a background of colourful prostate ticklers and vibrating butt plugs. "Don't you look terribly lonely..." He clapped his hands and wriggled his legs just a little, shifted, nearly shimmied, his hip against the soft swing his bum felt so comfortably supported in, and finally offered a wink to his favourite hippy-accountant, his marvellous Mr. Whitby - perhaps not Austen, but he belonged in any novel written by Vale.
Wicked and naughty, he'd been too caught up in this first arrival to notice the second ringing of the tiny bell that always made his skin tingle and managed to send shivers down his spine - it bred anticipation, the arrival of new customers; you never knew which type to expect - but he became instantly aware as the second arrival become apparent at the corner of his eye, and he turned a head to see another delightful arrival, another source of joy and applause, and he clapped his hands again, considering sitting up. But no, not yet, not when this position was ever-so-comfortable, and not when they both stood watching him with those beautiful eyes in those handsome faces; he'd have to tickle their amusement for a little longer, just for that."Not for long, I hope," he stated with a cheeky smile and a teasing tone, and stretched his leg out to poke at his much more professional looking companion with an eager toe, but coming up short and having to pout with disappointment as his foot was left waggling in thin air. "Fudge," he complained, his eyes combining efforts with his pout as they entered the realm of the puppy-dog stare, and he sniffed for dramatic effect. Such teases, coming here and intriguing him with their longed-for company, and then not even giving him a little hug, not the first indication of a snuggle! And not even a sandwich; such horrible friends he had, but forgivable, nonetheless. He couldn't hold anything against those faces, certainly not when such a vibrant scarf was in close proximity to both.
Phoenix reached out, reached towards him, and for a moment, Cooper excitably awaited the first touch of the work-day - apart from the quick touching administered to a particularly cheeky client in the very earliest hours - but was not entirely disappointed when the touch was instead administered to the swing, giving it a tug. He released a sounded gasp, playful and exaggerated, before the slight movement he was now experiencing caused him to chuckle with mild delight. “Cooper is lonely and needs company, Paxxy feels cold to me and needs warming up.” His lips formed a shocked O - not his favourite O to be forming - at the very idea, brows rising high in absolute horror at the idea. “Two very urgent problems that must be solved immediately.” He nodded along, shifting his body to set the swing in motion, and succeeding this time at touching the tip of a shoe against Pax's thigh, smiling lopsidedly as the touch was registered. "Poor Paxxy!" His arms parted wide and he shifted some more, shimmying the second swing a big higher up on his back for a more comfortable position. "I'll warm you. I'm super-hot." He nodded almost gravely, the most serious promise he could give now offered, but broke it off with the expression a moment later and let himself grin again, the cheeky touch back in his eyes. His hands lifted and grabbed hold of the straps to the swing, closing tight around the black strap and pulling himself up, just a little bit. "But then Phoenix would be lonely instead of me," he concluded with another pout and tilted his head to the side, the smile resurfacing a moment later. "I wonder if this thing can carry three..."
Pax Whitby - March 31, 2010 12:13 AM (GMT)
Pax hadn't heard the bell that proudly announced another arrival either - one would perhaps not be too far off in guessing that this might have something to do with finding Cooper reclining in a sex swing - so when the soft sound of familiar laughter reached his unsuspecting ears, a smile immediately spread across his features. He didn't even have to turn to see who it was, not the slightest tilt of the head in the right direction. Footsteps and laughter were fast approaching, and then there was someone next to him, confirming his educated guess. The scent of Phoenix snuggled close came to him, and his smile grew even wider as the man slipped a hand under his coat, settling it across the small of his back. "He does look awfully lonely," Phoenix agreed, his British accent - much to Pax's delight - deliciously pronounced. It was a far cry from Cooper's Southern drawl like dribbling honey, all crisp and proper, but as different as the two accents were, deciding which was more pleasing to the ear would be enough to make poor Pax's head spin. More than enough, thank you very much. But perhaps it would be an interesting experience to try.
After a quick kiss on the cheek, Phoenix rested his head on Pax's shoulder, his hair coming into contact with the sensitive patch of skin between his own hairline and the collar of his coat. It tickled slightly, but it wasn't uncomfortable. With a gentle sigh that signified the pleasure of simple closeness, Pax raised an arm to put around Phoenix's shoulders. In the process, his fingers entangled themselves in his hair, half ruffling and half tugging at the soft strands, before he let his hand come to a rest, lightly on the shoulder farthest away from Pax.
"Not for long I hope," Cooper chimed in, that trademark smirk that the man was so talented at producing present as he tried to nudge Pax's pristine pant leg with a dirty shoe. Pax chuckled at the attempt, not making the the slightest move to get out of the way. An eyebrow raised in amusement at the 'fudge' that was uttered when the shoe failed to make contact, and one corner of his mouth twitched at the pout and the sniff that followed. Cooper was such a child. And Pax was kinda hoping that this was something that would never change, no matter how old the man got.
Pax swayed with Phoenix as he leaned forward to tug at the contraption that Cooper was sitting in, making the thing move slightly. "Cooper is lonely and needs company, Paxxy feels cold to me and needs warming up." Pax tilted his head awkwardly to look at the man standing next to him, a twinkle appearing in his eyes as Phoenix paused slightly. "Two very urgent problems that must be solved immediately. Pax laughed softly, a look of approval coming into fruition. "Urgent problems indeed." Cooper obviously agreed as well, the mischief in his eyes seeming to multiply, though that could perhaps also be due to the renewed attempt to get Pax's pants dirty. Assuming that he was going to be unsuccessful again, Pax made no move to get out of the way this time either, but thanks to the motion in the love swing, the tip of Cooper's shoe came into contact with his shin, right below the knee. It left a dusty toe print on the dark slacks, causing Pax to narrow his eyes sternly. Well. Causing Pax to try to narrow his eyes sternly, but much of the effect was lost when a pesky hint of a smile couldn't be enticed to stop playing with the corners of his mouth.
"Poor Paxxy! Cooper exclaimed with feeling, pushing the smile further onto Pax features, and then even further when he opened his arms invitingly. Now there was an offer that couldn't - or shouldn't - be refused, Pax thought with glee. "I'll warm you. I'm super-hot." Pax gave a soft little snort, before nodding as gravely as he could manage, while deliberately letting his eyes wander all over Cooper's body. "Yes, you are," he said slyly, making his voice low and gravelly to add to the effect.
But then Phoenix would be lonely instead of me." There was a well-considered pause to give the three of them time to think of a solution to this predicament. Which Cooper had, of course, already come up with. "I wonder if this thing can carry three..." Pax laughed softly, his fingers closing in around the straps of the contraption. He gave it a playful tug, eyes still on Cooper. "Want to find out?"
He distanced himself from Phoenix, immediately missing the warmth of a human body close to his. If he got his way, he'd soon have it back, however. With a playful smirk, he took an elegant (ish) bow, his hand making a flourishing motion towards the swing and Cooper. "Beauty before age, darling." There was a slight pause while he eyed the slightly unsteady swing. "Need a hand?"
Phoenix Delafield - April 7, 2010 03:00 PM (GMT)
Phoenix smiled blissfully, closing his eyes with pleasure as Pax ran his hands through his hair, pulling on it lightly. He nuzzled his cheek against the material clad shoulder that he was currently resting his head on, fully appreciating the closeness and the feel of their bodies together, as Pax’s hand came to rest around his shoulders. Through the ear pressed against his friend, he could hear the sound of Pax’s voice reverberating through his chest, deeper and muffled. Gripping the strap of the swing, Phoenix realised that he wasn’t listening to what the other two were saying, he was just listening to their voices, the slow warmth of Cooper’s teasing tones, and the deeper tones of Pax as he relied. Light blue eyes opened again, in time to observe the attempts by Cooper to nudge Pax’s leg with the toe of his shoe and he gave a gentle, amused laugh as the action was successful. He thought that he would be quite content to just stay here, a light smile of contentment peeking the corners of his lips, listening to the two of them joke together and feeling the warm of Pax’s embrace.
Finally, however, his attention returned to the words, as his swinging friend claimed that he was hot and the dark haired man agreed in seductive tones. That most definitely required his full attention. Phoenix nodded in grave agreement, re-entering the conversation. “Oh yes. Hot enough to keep both of us warm.” The suggestion was made to see if all three of them could fit onto the swing, and Phoenix grinned excitedly at the prospect, although his joyful expression seemed to die almost as quickly as Pax moved away from him. He swayed slightly on the spot, towards the retreating figure, leaning a little more against the strap he was holding as an expression of sulkiness flitter briefly over his expressive features. It was a necessary evil, but he still didn’t appreciate the absence. However, as it was soon to be filled by both of them, the petulant look of dissatisfaction quickly faded.
"Beauty before age, darling." Phoenix angled his head a little to the side as he considered this statement, blue eyes moving to the left, as he tried to figure it out and make sense of it, his mind a little slow to catch up as he tried to place the words in order. “But...” Wouldn’t that mean Pax went first? He trailed off, and then smiled with a sheepish triumph as it clicked. “Oh I see.” With a bright smile, he walked towards Pax, a deliberately seductive sway to the few steps that were needed to close the distance between them once more. “You have me beaten on both counts, Paxxy.” He said, reaching out to lovingly brush his fingers over the other’s cheek before turning to Cooper and contemplating the task before him, trying to figure out how exactly the swings were going to support all three of them. Maybe if they each took a knee, but that would probably be terribly uncomfortable for Cooper, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause his friend any discomfort at all. His blue eyes cut back towards Pax, looking as he often did, for guidance from the older man, but still considering his own solution to the problem.
“I would never refuse a hand from you.” He replied lightly, as he considered the swing and the three of them who needed to fit on there. Of course, the option of simply not doing it and abandoning the task of fitting all three of them on to the two swings never occurred to Phoenix. He was much too excited by the thought of snuggling up with his two favourite people in the whole world on a sex swing, in their shop, which was incidentally one of his favourite places in the whole world. It was far too much of a blissful proposition to consider not doing. “Perhaps... if one of us takes the back, and the other takes the front.” Phoenix mused, accompanied by a cheeky smile and laugh as he paced forwards, surveying the scene at a closer range now. The way he saw it, he could either straddle Cooper’s lap, or drape himself across. Draping had the advantage of a being able to use a strap as a back support, hopefully making the whole thing a little bit more steady and less likely to dump all three of them on the floor.
“Okay. I’m going to sit on your lap.” He warned Cooper, reaching out to rest one hand on the other’s muscular shoulder, the unoccupied hand wrapping around one of the straps, as he lowered his hips down and to the side, knees bending as he carefully dropped his weight down until he was sitting across Cooper’s lap, legs at a perpendicular angle. The second his feet left the steadying contact of the ground, the swing began to move in a rather precarious manner, and Phoenix gave a gasping laugh of shock, as he dropped his feet immediately to the ground, both hands clamping around Cooper’s shoulders. “Bugger” He muttered as he readjusted himself centring his weight more onto his friend, before letting his feet leave the floor again. This time the swinging was less violent and Phoenix slipped an arm around Cooper’s back, so that he could snuggle closer, pressing the side of his torso against his new chair’s chest and resting his head against his shoulder.
For a brief moment, he stayed like that, breathing in the scent of his friend and absorbing the warmth of his body, the feel of it against his. He wanted to stay like this, but even as he appreciated the moment, he knew it was already gone, flowing away from him and out of his grasp. A sudden blast of deep sadness lurched and caught him by surprise, as it often did and he turned his face inwards, burying it Cooper’s shoulder. “Can’t let go.” He mouthed against t-shirt material. But it was not a time for sadness, as it gripped him tightly for that split second. The feeling left him shaken, but he knew he had to take a hold of himself and banish it as quickly as it had arrived or it would settle in, and he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to make the other two sad because he was. There was a sex swing! Two, in fact! And Cooper and Pax. The only necessary ingredients for happiness. Sometimes one had to simply decide to be happy, even if he felt a little disjointed, He turned his face back out again and smiled, bright and brilliant once more.
“Mmmmm. Comfy” He murmured, cuddling his body in tighter still, his hand rising up to trace across Cooper’s other shoulder, dancing and pressing lightly across his collar bone. “Hello.” Phoenix finally greeted his friend, tilting up his head to press a kiss to him, as he had with Pax, but this one landing against the jawline of the recipient. With that, he turned his head, from it’s position against one friend’s shoulder to look at the second friend who was criminally far away from them. “Come and join us, Paxy.” Phoenix invited, extending his hand towards the dark haired man, welcoming him closer.
Cooper Vale - May 1, 2010 11:49 PM (GMT)
Sternness was imminent, glowing from above the hint of a smile that could not be denied, directed at him from a most treasured friend who looked positively sour that he'd finally managed to filthy his pants a bit - but of course; pants should always be a little bit filthy - and the presence of sternness brought the slightest hint of tingles to his tummy. Sternness and misbehavior brought with it punishment, and Cooper had to bite his bottom lip to keep from offering the sugar-laced "have I earned a spanking, officer?" He only stopped himself because of a word; one word less, or one word replaced, and it would have been passable, but there was that word, officer, which seemed determined to be connected to the phrase, thus rendering it useless in this context. He could never imagine Pax as a weapon bearing lawman, though he was sure he would look dashing in uniform, and even though he himself happened to have the slightest (mostly secret, for the sake of present company) infatuation with weaponry (soldiers were especially enticing, but a simple hunter could satisfy his urges any day), it seemed wrong, outright obscene (and not in the good way!) to attach a weapon to the image of Pax - of peace!
"Yes, you are," the low, gravelly voice of his best friend brought a twinkle to his eye and a suggestive smirk to his lips, and they parted momentarily in preparation to part with familiar words from these exact lips: He had an ex who used to use a voice just like that. But he realized as the words started gathering in his mouth, preparing for release, that this particular ex was one he'd rather never compare anyone he cared for with - especially not someone he cared for as deeply as he did for either of the people in his company, now. He pushed the thought firmly away, wondering to himself where all these ill-fitting suggestions had come from, nearly furrowing his brow in troubled contemplation, but distracting himself instead with the sound of Phoenix chiming in. “Oh yes. Hot enough to keep both of us warm.” He chuckled a little, wondered if it sounded hollow on the first try, and chuckled again, concluding that it hadn't sounded hollow at all. "Happy to do it, sugar." He winked teasingly, finding his need to carry on pressing and alarming - he shouldn't cloud his mind with thoughts of yesteryear. There was no time like the present; future loomed and past... Past had proven a cruel mistress. Master. Whatever.
The present tugged at him. More accurately, Pax tugged at him, and even more accurately, Pax tugged at the love swing, and Cooper's body wiggled with mild satisfaction at being moved, as well as in expression of the joy he felt at his unspoken suggestion being picked up on so readily. He cocked a brow at Pax, hinting a 'do you even have to ask?' through his playful smirk, and wondered, for a moment, if this use of a love swing wasn't mildly...misleading. Still, it was always good to know what it could carry, should he ever find use for one.
He shifted a little in his makeshift hammock, looking from one friend to the other with curious eyes, patiently waiting, for once, for whatever course of action they chose. They shifted from Pax to Phoenix with certainty as the burden of action was passed on, but shifted back when Phoenix's confusion became clear, a sparkle of endeared amusement playing over his features, before he assumed something similar to a serious expression, always so difficult to carry out. “You have me beaten on both counts, Paxxy.” He smiled lopsidedly, tilting his head to the side as he regarded his two close friends, and felt compelled to speak up again, as he so often was. "I don't know about that. I'd say you rank pretty even." He winked again, teasing again, always teasing, because he never had quite managed to let go of the teasing quality he'd swathed himself in at a certain point in life.
He felt watched. Granted, it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, and they were hardly the least desirable watchers, but for a moment it struck him as uncomfortable, even unusual, to be suddenly stricken so utterly useless. His lips pursed slightly, and he started sitting up, hands climbing along the straps of the swing and pulling him into a sitting position, now abandoning the back swing just in time for Phoenix's conclusion. “Perhaps... if one of us takes the back, and the other takes the front.” He nodded in agreement, securing himself again in teasing comfort and assuming a grave expression, business-like for the purpose of the game, and spread his arms again, this time in welcoming Phoenix, who would, as he'd declared, sit on his lap. "My lap welcomes you," he announced, adding a touch of ceremonious flare to his speech, but opting against cleaning up his accent for the sake of impact. It might be the last thing he had from home, and he certainly wasn't going to relinquish that.
He placed a hand on Phoenix's side as one of his friend's came to rest on his shoulder, and looked at the other man with batting eyelashes, a smiling innocence creeping over his features. For anyone who was familiar with some of the devalued artworks he'd participated in, they'd know that this expression was nothing new, and certainly not necessarily sincere; it went well with a first scene, it did. Innocent schoolboy, it had been a hit - for as long as it lasted. Automatically, the thumb on the hand so comfortably situated finally on someone else's body - that was the thing about solitude; it deprived you of simple human contact - started tracing circles against the other man's side, barely noticed by Cooper himself. "I've got you!" He assured with a widening smile, his other hand tightening its hold on one of the swing's straps as Phoenix lowered himself onto his lap, but was startled into grasping the strap of the swing even tighter and pressing his hand somewhat harder against the other man as the swing started its unexpected wobble. Correction: He did not have him, and the realization brought him to chuckle, nearly giggle, like an excitable child, as his feet tread air enthusiastically. His arm crept a bit further around Phoenix, grasping him a bit tighter, preparing a bit more for the second take, and relaxing once the other man's feet left the ground again and they proved themselves stable.
He was overjoyed at the increase of closeness, and made eager by Phoenix's presence to welcome Pax's, even though he found his attentions rather occupied by this new warmth on his lap, slipping an arm around him and resting its head on his shoulder. His head tilted to the side, cheek resting on a bed of dark hair, and he smiled up at Pax in an expression of quiet comfort, meaning to speak, but finding himself too comfortably situated at the moment to act. His hold on the other man tightened, and he found him soon burying his face into his shoulder, speaking muffled words against the fabric of his shirt. “Can’t let go.” His brow furrowed as his grasp tightened further, a concerned expression finding his defenses lowered enough to direct itself at Pax. His thumb started moving again, tracing circles now on Phoenix's back. "Won't let go," he turned his face a bit into the mass of dark hair atop Phoenix's head as he spoke the words, eyes closing for a moment, thumb tracing instead figure eights. “Mmmmm. Comfy.” And just like that, it was over, danger avoided, no need for panic, and Cooper smiled against the dark hair of his friend, nuzzling against the top of his head for a moment, before lifting his head away and leaning back in the swing, suspended in mid-air, but safely so by the power of a hand still tightly grasping one strap.
He tilted his head away from Phoenix, enough to look down at the head resting against his shoulder and the hand rising to creep over his shoulder, and leaving his jaw perfectly situated to receive a kiss. He smiled lopsidedly, chuckling lightly. "Hello, darlin', where did you come from?" He winked down at his friend, but shifted his attention back to Pax soon, lopsided smile growing. "Yeah, come join us," he agreed, and without outside influence, his expression turned playful, teasing, with that spark of an inclination towards misbehavior lighting up his face like a Christmas tree. "You're up next, big boy. We need someone to rest against." He considered reaching back and patting the other swing, the one so close to his back, but not quite touching it, but realized that any effort to do so would only result in tragedy. It was likely, at least. "We'll fall if you're not there to support us."
Pax Whitby - May 22, 2010 01:50 PM (GMT)
Fingers ghosted gently across his cheek, a feather light caress combined with the more figurative caress of a compliment, sweetly and innocently issued from the mouth of a very dear friend, and that much precious for it. He raised an eyebrow, on the verge of smiling, and on the verge of speaking when Cooper interrupted to call it an even match. His smile, and whatever it was he had been poised to say faded into a chuckle, a soft burst of sound that conveyed the warmth and gratitude he felt for the two other men. "You," he said, pausing after that single word for extra emphasis. "Are both wrong." He returned Cooper's wink with one of his own. "But I appreciate the sentiment."
He studied the swing carefully, looking for solution as to how all of them were going to fit on it at once. "Perhaps..." Phoenix started, and Pax turned his gaze to him expectantly for the continuation. "If one of us takes the back, and the other takes the front." The suggestion tugged at the corners of his mouth, amusing him with that particular choice of words. It resulted in twinkling eyes, though he neglected to comment on it.
"Okay, I'm going to sit on you lap," Phoenix announced, already leaning forwards to support himself on Cooper's able shoulder with one hand, and the other encircling the strap of the swing. "My lap welcomes you," Cooper replied, which did elicit a small laugh from Pax. "I'm sure it does, he said slyly, watching with keen eyes as Phoenix slowly lowered himself onto the lap in question. As soon as his feet left the safety of the floor, the swing was set into motion, making Phoenix position rather precarious. Pax took a quick step forwards, ready to steady the other man should he fall, but Phoenix quickly placed his feet back on the floor, regaining his balance with a softly spoken "bugger" to lament the thwarted attempt. He made the necessary adjustments, with Pax as a wary spectator, and once again, his feet left the floor and elicited motion from the swing, though much more controlled this time around.
Under Pax's watchful gaze, Phoenix found the sweet spot on Cooper's lap, immediately snuggling close to the lively warmth of another human body. His head came to a rest on Coopers's shoulder, hiding his features from view as he buried his face in the other man's shirt. Words were murmured, unheard by Pax, but obviously caught by the man whose chest they were murmured into. "Won't let go," Cooper assured, his hand starting to trace protective figure eights against the fabric that covered Phoenix's back. Pax met Cooper's gaze, and for a moment, he was filled with tenderness for the pair, along with the feeling of being the unworthy watcher of a very private moment.
It lasted only a second, before vulnerability was replaced by a bright smile of greeting, coupled with a kiss much like the one Pax had had the pleasure of receiving only minutes before. Playful hellos were exchanged, with Pax as an entertained witness, before their attention turned to him again, inviting him to take part in the festivities. [i]"Come join us Paxy," they said, placing an almost grateful smile upon his features with their eager words of welcome. Phoenix offered him an outstretched hand, which Pax contemplated with a lingering smile. "Hang on," he replied, quickly shrugging out of his bulky coat. It fell to the ground behind him with a hollow thud, leaving his colorful scarf quite lonely around his neck. He pulled that off as well, hesitating for a moment before dropping it on top of the pile that his coat made.
Finally taking hold of the proffered hand, he let his fingers lace themselves into their warm counterparts, but not allowing them to tug him forwards. Instead, he tore his eyes away from his friends to once again study the contraption they were balancing on, hoping to discover a clever way to mount it, hopefully without adding any bruises to his person.
He bit his lip in deep thought, his thumb mindlessly moving in little ellipses across the hand that he was holding. "Okay," he said finally, a determined look settling on his features. "Here we go." Still holding on to Phoenix's hand, he moved slightly off to the side, giving himself a new angle of attack. Determination was replaced by concentration as he maneuvered his body, all five feet and eleven inches of him, into the swing, for a moment feeling the precariousness of his position, just as Phoenix had.
An unexpected motion almost unseated him, eliciting a bark of adrenaline-fueled laughter as he regained his balance and finally settled in behind Cooper and Phoenix. One hand come to rest on Phoenix's shoulder, just where the skin started to peek out from underneath his clothing, and his thumb automatically resumed his elliptical motion upon contact with warm flesh. His other hand was places on Cooper's shoulder, and he leaned forward - carefully mind - to place a kiss on top of Cooper's head. Sweet scented hair caressed his nose and cheeks, and he smiled into the silky texture, content.
When he leaned back again, it was with a satisfied smile on his face. "Well, would you look at that?" he laughed. "It worked.
Phoenix Delafield - May 29, 2010 10:47 PM (GMT)
Phoenix laughed softly, joyfully, as Cooper greeted him and asked where he had come from, enjoying the lilt of his warm Southern accent, particularly on the word ‘darlin’ . “I fell out of a bird’s nest, silly.” He replied, with a grin, pressing another kiss to Cooper’s neck, while his other hand danced away from his collar bone and down to the bare skin of his arm, below the sleeve of his t-shirt. “It’s a very good thing your lap just happened to be here to catch me.” Phoenix nodded gravely, his hand moving in careful stroking motions over his friend, and new seat’s, muscular upper arm. His hand continued it’s petting until it was used to extend towards Pax, to welcome him into their current position.
Hang on. Phoenix hated to wait, particularly when it was for the touch of one of his closest friends, but wait he would, because that was what he had to do before that contact would be renewed and their trio would be completed. Good things come to those who wait, although he would much rather not do the end part and just have the good things, particularly when in this context the ‘good thing’ was Pax, who Phoenix would argue was also the ‘best thing’, a position he shared with Cooper. It would be madness to expect him to choose between the two of them. He had known Pax for longer, but he loved both of them deeply and he couldn’t imagine that ever changing. Apart from the minor frustration of the delay, the rest of Phoenix’s mind was abuzz with a warm happiness and contentment, a result of being in the presence of two of the people he loved the most in the whole world.
Watching Pax from the comfort of Cooper’s lap, Phoenix’s gaze followed the drop of the black coat, pooling on the floor, soon followed by the colourful scarf, with caused a faint, sleepy smile to cross his lips as he focused on the coil of vibrant material against the plainness of the coat and flooring. After a moment his gaze drifted back up, the length of his friend’s body, taking in the familiar dark trousers and white shirt. Conventional, almost plain by some standards, but Phoenix would never consider Pax in those terms and instead acknowleged the fact that he looked incredibly handsome whatever he wore, which in no way equated to any kind of boring outward appearance. A comment about stripping for them, a joke on the discarding of the coat in front of an audience seated in a sex swing no less!, rose in his mind, remaining sadly fractured and refusing to form properly, vaguely shying away from sending the correct signals to his vocal chords and mouth. By the time it became a ‘comment’, the moment has passed by and Pax was reaching out for him, twinning his cold fingers with Phoenix’s warmer ones.
It was unlikely that Phoenix had ever felt so happy as he did in that moment when Pax took his hand, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles against his skin, while Cooper’s hand repeated the action on his back, the warmth of the other man’s body, the feel of another human, one so cherished, pressing against so much of his body lifted his mood exponentially. He was buoyant as he kicked his heels slightly off the floor, wiggling his legs in the air, causing a little bit of extra movement in the swing. Of course, it was very likely that he had been happier at various moments in his life, but in the present every other event, whether it be happy, sad, indifferent, angry, though the last of those was quite rare for Phoenix, paled in comparison to the intensity of emotion he was feeling right now.
No doubt that in a minute or two this feeling would be overwhelmed by another moment of perfect happiness, but for now, with Pax holding his hand and Cooper supporting his body, he was blissful. The briefly intense sadness that had recently passed was close to forgotten, lingering as only the palest of ghosts somewhere in the back of his mind, along with all the other grief, disappointment, desperation, waiting until it was time to surface again, only to be drowned again, later on, by happiness.
Lifting his head up off Cooper’s shoulder, Phoenix tightened his fingers around Pax’s briefly in a gentle squeeze, wondering if it was possible to convey a wealth of emotions in the simple contracting of fingers around another’s. He hoped so. Nodding in support of Cooper’s statement about the necessity of Pax to keep them supported, Phoenix watched intently as the older man began to move into position, wiggling slightly in his current position as an unexpected wave of excitement caught him. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was directed at, whether it was the general situation, or the soon completion of their trio, but either way he didn’t try to control it. It was a very pleasant feeling and there was no point, anyway, in trying to restrict his emotions too much.
Unoccupied hand rose to rub the backs of knuckles gently against Cooper’s t-shirt covered abs, without really realising he was doing it, as he observed Pax settling himself in the swing, which gave a similar unsettling motion as it had to Phoenix on his first attempt at sitting down. He tensed immediately, body jolting slightly as though he was ready to leap from his human seat and rush to Pax’s aid. The other man laughed, however, and righted himself and so Phoenix relaxed again, slipping even further into calmness as a hand found it’s way to his shoulder, holding it and drawing those circles against his skin again. If he was a cat he would have been purring at this point, eyes half closing as he rested his head against Cooper once more, his own hand shifting to run gentle lines over the back of Pax’s hand as it drew constant shapes against his skin.
“Of course it worked, we’re geniuses.” Phoenix replied, turning his head some more so he could look at Pax over Cooper’s shoulder as he spoke, before resuming his former position, nuzzling the tip of his nose briefly against the other’s skin. “I used one of these with a priest once.” He mused. “He was paying, of course. It wasn’t as fun as this.” Phoenix added, taking up swinging his legs again, tapping out a light rhythm with his fingers against the back of Pax’s hand.
Cooper Vale - June 18, 2010 11:51 PM (GMT)
It was such a snooze to have to hang on before "we" could go, even though there was no we about it for the most part, but eventually, finally Pax had managed to maneuver himself onto the back swing with a bark of a laugh, and he could finally lean back against him, soon to feel the touch of his hand on his fabric-covered shoulder, and a kiss on the top of his head. He felt like a child, suddenly, guarded by some paternal instance that placed soft kisses on a boy's head, and held in line by a hand on his shoulder, but he'd never done too well with the paternal type. Oh, certainly, it had some lasting power, more than most of his interactions with other people, but when the inevitably culmination came to be, the outcome was always far more bleak than with other, less threatening - or rather, less significant - roles. He shook his head, without real reason to, and realized that he'd even done so immediately after Pax's announcement that their plan had worked. He modified his behavior, turning the shaking of a head into a safer nod, accompanied by a long-drawn "mhm" for good measure. And perhaps - just perhaps - it was also out of laziness, as he was suddenly overcome by a wave of extreme comfort, which translated almost immediately into an onset of sleepiness. He struggled to keep himself awake - though it wasn't much of a struggle just yet - and listened to Phoenix's words about his love-swing escapades with the paying priest. Uncontrollably, a scoff slipped through his lips. "I thought priest's only fucked little boys. I guess you live and learn."
The cynical edge in his voice couldn't be helped, as it rarely could be, but it was, by Cooper, quickly forgotten. Hearing Phoenix's tale of past experiences with the genius contraption they were all three suspended upon, saw fit to wrack his brain in search of similar experiences in his own history, and realized, to his horror, that he had experiences. Or rather, he had one experience, and though he'd never had the joy of actually putting the product to good use, he had most certainly been given the offer. The details of the event in question were clouded, at best, but the general gist of it was nothing less than memorable, far more memorable than many - but certainly not all; there were many memorable events in his personal history, after all - and with the ability to make his stomach tie up in tight knots when the man of the hour stepped up in his internal video centre, to replay to him the moments and words he remembered. It had come beautifully wrapped, the love swing, and had been delivered by two, at that point, beloved hands, older hands, 22 years older, to be exact, and belonging to a man Cooper took no joy in admitting had given him great comfort for some years of his life. Franc, who had never admitted that Cooper's stance that this shortening of the name Francois made positively no sense, in a suit, giving birthday offerings after a week of snide remarks and petty bickering on both sides over a topic Cooper could no longer remember (no doubt it had been of absolutely no significance, even then), and becoming shocked when the love swing was not received with glee and gratitude. He'd accused him of over-sexualizing him, of turning him into his personal play-thing, and he'd attempted to distance himself, physically, from the man he so adored, hopelessly, helplessly. The words he had responded with still rang clearly in Cooper's mind, as unforgettable as they were a source of a vast array of feelings. My darling, you are, above all, sexual.
It was as much a comfort today as it had been then, but he'd acknowledged then, as he acknowledged now, the source it came from, and realized that from Franc, it was the most profound of compliments. He'd taken it to heart, and those words, so easily taken out of context, had often rang again in his mind when he was alone here, or alone at home, or alone in the street, alone anywhere, or, unfortunately, in the company of others, and he'd more than once looked out at the magnificence that was the Slap 'n Tickle and remembered those words, sometimes fondly, and sometimes with a sense of shame he so often refused to acknowledge. How much easier it would have been to stay in that pre-identified stage, when he was not yet sexual. How much easier to go to an SSAD treatment facility and be cured of his degenerate disease through the healing powers of prayer, how much easier to have a female sweetheart and live forever in the closet (comfortable scene, he'd heard; many a mink fur to cuddle up with on cold nights), how much easier to live with a wife and two point three kids in a house down the road from his parents, and eat his mother's apple pie on Sundays after Church. What a lie.
He suppressed a shudder and turned his head sideways, eyes squeezing shut as he pressed his cheek against Pax's shoulder and held Phoenix just a smidgeon tighter. What a horrible contraption it was, this supposed love swing. How delightful, too, for them, the sexual beings, or sexualized beings, he didn't know how to put it - but how utterly enchanting to be experiencing it with them for the first time, even if it wasn't everyone's first time, and even if they weren't putting it to its intended use. He struggled back to comfort, and his cheek rested lightly against Pax's shoulder, perfectly positioned to be rested without the slightest bit of discomfort. A sense of safety crept over him, and he dismissed it, deciding not to charge them with the duty of providing him with safety, knowing his track-record with that state. He sighed quietly and opened his eyes, looking out at a shelf stacked full with love pacifier teardrops in utter disarray. No doubt he'd had some sort of artistic plan with the line-up when he'd stacked them like that, but at this point... No. It was a football line-up, and with that realization, he was content. A small smile crept onto his lips, and his body unwound slowly, while he rolled his head to the other side, giving him a view of the ceiling, and on it, the hook holding the love swing. He tilted his head to the side, giving him further opportunity to tilt his head back, and thus a better view of the ceiling, and he realized that there was nothing safe about their current position at all. "I'll wager we have about ten minutes, maybe less, maybe a tiny bit more, before that hook gives way and we go crashing to the floor." He considered his judgment for a moment, squinting up at the suspension in the ceiling, and nodded decisively. "Definitely less if we move around some."
Pax Whitby - June 27, 2010 08:20 PM (GMT)
Pax wasn't quite sure that everyone would agree with the assessment of the three of them as geniuses - genii? - based on how they had all managed to fit on a love swing without falling on their asses. Nevertheless, a warm smile spread across his face as Phoenix looked back at him, excited at the accomplishment. Pax had to admit, regardless of what anyone else would think of the matter, that it was quite nice. In fact, much nicer than he had imagined it was going to be. He'd agreed to do it for a laugh, but now that he was ideally situated behind his two comrades, a sense of childish, or perhaps child-like glee was coursing through him.
"A priest?" he asked, his intonation bearing hints of both surprise and amusement. The note of amusement was probably stronger though, because, in his eyes, a vow of celibacy was just about the silliest promise anyone ever made. Talk about denying one's own nature! In the home where Pax had grown up, this would have been considered the greatest crime of all. Besides, he couldn't help but wonder if God wasn't sitting up on a cloud somewhere, if heaven was indeed up there, giggling madly at all the odd things his followers did in His name. This thought might be ever so slightly blasphemous, but you mustn't blame Pax for this, because when it came to religion, his parents were all about the spirituality rather than the organization. The result had been a son who very much believed in a higher being, and a purpose to this funny little thing called life, but also a son that didn't care to go to church on Sundays unless the spirit moved him to do so.
Cooper, however, expressed a slightly different view on the matter, a somewhat disdainful, and certainly naughty scoff emitting from him. Pax raised an eyebrow at him, unable to hide the burgeoning smile at the comment that followed the scoff. Even a little laugh managed to get away from him, though it was, of course, terrible of him to find such a tasteless joke amusing. "Cooper, Cooper, Cooper," he said, somewhat reproachingly, though the result bore the signs of being more of a failed attempt than an actual scolding. "Let's not be so judgmental! I'm sure priests fuck all sorts." He paused, his eyebrows drawing together as if he was watching the sentence float away from him, suspended for a second in midair, before chuckling at his poor choice of words.
The reproach, however little reproaching, was soon forgotten though, in favor of discussing the stability of their current positions. Pax followed Cooper's example, looking to the ceiling. For now, the love swing was hanging from a hook that someone, probably Cooper, had installed for exactly this purpose. The straps that connected the hook to the actual swing were swaying lazily, obliviously teaming up with gravity to loosen their captor. Pax took the opportunity to study it for a few moments, biting the inside of his lower lip as he did so. "Are you telling me that you didn't install this thing properly?" There was a suspicious tone in his voice, interlaced with playfulness, infused into the sentence on purpose. "Granted, there are three of us, but aren't these things supposed to withstand..." He paused mid sentence, realizing that he wasn't quite sure how to vocalize his thoughts in a manner that wasn't entirely insensitive. He'd seen a website once, made by a couple that claimed they had once been so overweight that the only way for them to make love was by using a love swing. Surely, if the contraption was set to handle that, it could handle three men of relatively normal proportions.
He wrinkled his nose, screwing his eyes shut, before he continued. " A significant amount of weight?" How was that for politically correct, huh? As well as... ahem... vigorous motion?" He laughed at himself, starting to shift in his seat. Maybe he needed the shift for the sake of increased comfort, and maybe it was the subconscious thought of an impending fall that made him do it. Either way, he shifted. And then he shifted again, this time making a little more effort to really change his position to what he thought was a more balanced one. Instead, he ended up making too much of an effort, the motion propelling him backwards and jacking up the swing's momentum. He teetered on the edge for a long moment, knowing what was coming.
Phoenix Delafield - July 16, 2010 10:47 PM (GMT)
Cooper’s scoffing words caused a faint spark of hurt to travel through Phoenix, his body stiffening slightly as he tried to interpret the words and the way they were delivered, wondering if the contempt in them was for him, for what he did or for the priest or maybe both. The thought that anything said in that tone by Cooper could be aimed at him made him feel a little sick, his heart suddenly seeming to pick up a faster beat. A soft huff escaped him, that he hoped could be mistaken for a laugh as he turned his face a little more into Cooper’s shoulder, breathing in his smell and hoping fervently that he had just misunderstood. On some deep, dark layer, Phoenix knew that what he did was wrong, but he couldn’t give it up. Not yet. After his mother’s death, that was what had kept him safe, allowed him to live and stopped him from dwelling too much on how she was gone, how he had never made her happy enough that she wanted to live. He could make other people happy, enjoying the look of pleasure and release on his clients faces when they finally realised their fantasies. It had been an adventure, too, one where he could be a different person every day and never have to worry about his mother and her dead body, the image of it haunting him then as it did now.
Biting his lip, Phoenix took his cue from Pax, listening to the amusement in his voice as he questioned the priest and told Cooper off from being judgemental about the profession. In truth he wanted to ask, but he hated to appear stupid, even in front of his best friends. They were so much cleverer than him already, he didn’t want to highlight that gap between the three of them. Anything that took him further away from them made him sad. Lifting his head, he smiled, cheerfully and nodded. “I was seventeen, so I think I was a boy, technically.” Phoenix pointed out, thoughtfully, tilting his head to the one side. “On the other hand, he did think that I was fifteen.” A smirk tugged at his mouth as he thought about the tip he had got from one of the bartenders at the bar he sometimes frequented to client about which people to target and what to tell them. It turned out the bartender was highly observant and had no qualms about helping Phoenix earn his money, whatever his trade was. A soft snicker formed as he thought about Pax’s comment, looking over Cooper’s shoulder to find the older man’s dark eyes. “All sort’s, all positions.” He added, a little gleefully, with a playful wink as he kicked up his legs to swing them again.
Cooper’s grip around him tightened, eyes closed now, and Phoenix instinctively hugged him more firmly in return, his hand drifting up to stroke at his friend’s hair, not knowing what had caused the sudden movement but offering this wordless contact. His fingers slipped through soft brunette strands near Cooper’s temple, marvelling at the subtle colours that could be held within the brackets of ‘brunette’, the contrast of silken hair against his skin. After a moment his hand moved, fell away, moving back to it’s previous position against the other man’s shoulder, winding itself into a chunk of shirt and holding that lightly. Now he was able to see those eyes again, mismatched in colour, utterly familiar and completely loved as was every part of the man they belonged to.
Slowly he tilted his head back as the conversation switched to how long they thought they could stay like this without the strap breaking and sending them all to the floor. If they were going to go down, at least they would do it together, Phoenix thought with a small grin, not particularly worried about such things. They felt incredibly distant to his mind, practical concerns that he would allow Cooper and Pax to worry over and discuss. A song floated into his head, though he wasn’t really sure what it was, more a melody than a song if he was honest about it but that didn’t matter. Softly, Phoenix hummed it under his breath, feeling perfectly content to let his mind wander, safe in the knowledge that there was no pressure for him to join in the conversation or offer an opinion on such things. Listening to his friends talk, feeling the deep vibrations of Cooper’s voice through the ear pressed against his shoulder, as he had with Pax only minutes before was wonderfully soothing and he felt he could stay here all day. “We’ll have to be very still...” Phoenix finally spoke up, nodding his head in time with his words, dropping them into the conversation whether they worked or not at the particular point.
The next moment, however, his attention was firmly captured by movements from Pax, unsatisfactory ones that didn’t seem to help make their position more comfortable at all. A frown creased his forehead, wondering if they were going to be able to settled back to how they were before. Such concerns swiftly fled as suddenly Pax was no longer in the swing behind them, and was instead on the floor, a loud crash accompanying the fall. “Pax!” Phoenix gasped, immediately wiggling his way out of Cooper’s embrace, and attempting to get up with some kind of speed. It wasn’t so easy however, as he under estimated the distance off the floor, stumbling slightly before he gained control over himself and moved to his friend’s side. The whole time he couldn’t seem to decide between amusement at the fall and concern that Pax might have hurt himself, a soft laugh escaping him, only to be controlled by a contrite expression of concern seconds later. He knelt down beside his friend, reaching out to him. “Are you okay, Paxxy? Did you hurt yourself?” He asked quickly, anxiety and mirth warring across his features, curving at his lips and striking at widened blue eyes.
Cooper Vale - September 8, 2010 02:20 AM (GMT)
Reproach following a tell-tale laugh, and Phoenix face turning comfortably into his shoulder, and even though Cooper's first instinct was to tilt his head back and exclaim 'haha, made you laugh!' at Pax, he kept it at bay and made a pouting face as he tilted his head back, instead, opening his eyes wide in an attempt at the puppy eyes he usually swung and missed at. The words that accompanied his stern demeanor was enough to guarantee that he'd be having no particular success in his attempts this time either, and instead, a broad grin immediately followed Pax's words, accompanied by a wink and an innocently mouthed 'Even me?' His focused returned to the front, however, when Phoenix's voice sounded brightly, and a lop-sided smile overtook Cooper's lips as Phoenix spoke his words. He bit back a booming laugh, holding his breath to keep the amusement from exploding out of his mouth, and instead lifted one arm in victorious celebration, hand rolled into a tight fist. "And that's Cooper one, Pax zero. How do ya like me now?" A rolling, childish chuckle escaped his lips, tumbling out without a chance of being stopped - and he had no desire to, either, at this point, as he knew from word of mouth that this laughter was lengthening his life - and his hand lowered from the air, running affectionately through Phoenix's hair before it settled around his torso, squeezing him gently.
His hypothesis was challenged once more, but he refused to argue his case again when Phoenix's playful wink and kicking legs were creating a joyful, bubbling sensation he only experienced around these closest friends, and which suppressed the sting of yonder times. Well. Around them, and every time a letter arrived in the mail with the familiar handwriting of his sister spelling out his name and address, and he knew that he was in for the treat of reading his sister's words, describing her life and trivial experiences, all of which seemed intensely interesting and dramatic when he pictured them seen through his Princess Pretty's eyes. He smiled again, tilting his head down to nuzzle Phoenix's hair, and closed his eyes as he drew in the familiar scent of him. "I stand corrected," he whispered, admitting defeat even after his celebration - despite his profound belief that you could never take back a victory - and settled a moment later back into his previous position, resting his head back against Pax. He was musing on priests and sex swings, and having his moment, going through the motions of flash-backs better left suppressed and ignored, clinging to the other two and wading back to the present, where there threatening remnants of darkened thoughts retreated to a distance.
They were staring at the ceiling, at a most alarming hook, and Cooper noted his friend's suspicious words with a light chuckle. "Ain't my fault the hook's all wrong." In retrospect, it was his fault, and his fault alone, as he had installed the swing knowing full-well that the hook he was using was not at all ideal for the environment he was placing it in. But he had done so anyway, ever the rebel, simply from the kind of laziness that made him opt for assuming that no one would be trying the love swing until he could get around to changing the hook, even though he knew that he'd forget his resolve to replace the hook five minutes later. And here they were, hovering above the ground, waiting for the inevitable fall, suspended in a pause between the start of Pax's sentence, which had Cooper holding his breath for a moment, and the finish, which had Cooper snickering lightly. "Fat people fucking, you mean?" he clarified instantly, quirking a brow as he tilted his head back and turned it to the side to look up at his friend, who had now started shifting in his seat. Perhaps anticipating the disaster that would follow, or perhaps only to give Pax more room to wiggle around, he reached up and grabbed the suspension on either side, lifting himself up from his position of relaxation against Pax and waiting for his friend to settle again. But he didn't settle. Instead, he crashed to the ground, and Cooper's head whipped around to see him landed on the floor.
In a second, Phoenix had jumped off his lap and stumbled onto the floor, and Cooper followed directly after, but making a more elegant descent than his younger friend, if a lack of stumble could classify his sliding off the love swing as 'elegant'. Instead of immediately kneeling by his fallen comrade, however, he remained standing, slowly crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at him with high brows. "Darlin', you went down harder than the World Trade Center." He paused for a moment, considered the statement and came to a conclusion that caused his head to tilt as he looked at Pax, a serious expression adorning his features. "And not in the good way." A smirk grew on his lips, forcing away the remnants of gravity that had formerly locked it in its place, and releasing now the teasing edge in his eyes and playfully arching his left eyebrow.
He sat down beside Pax, edging closer and twisting his body to be partially turned towards him, but mostly turned to Phoenix, with his head turned to take in the sight of his fallen comrade on the floor. He lifted a hand and reached over, running two fingers through the hair above Pax's ear, as though he was tucking back a strand of hair when no such action was necessary. His hand dropped back to his side. "Shame on me, being politically incorrect in your hour of need, when I should be kissing it better." A shifting nearer allowed him the closeness required to rest his body against Pax's, where the feel of his thawing form, heating from its bout with the chilled outdoors, could just be felt through the layer of clothing-on-clothing, firmly separating skin from skin. His head turned towards him, allowing his lips to find a spot on his neck, just below the line of Pax's jaw, where he could place a soft kiss, pressing his lips against the warmth of his skin, where he could feel just a hint of pulse. He didn't want to move away - the feel of someone's neck against his lips had always been a particularly satisfying one, especially when he felt comfortable that it was a friendly gesture and nothing more - so he allowed himself to linger for a second or two, before he finally drew his lips away from Pax's neck and instead rested his head against his shoulder, yearning for that sense of comfort from before, the rest after a troubling thought. Another sigh, he lifted his eyes and looked at Phoenix, smiled slightly, a strengthening smile that grew with every passing second and twisted into a lop-sided grin. "Which part do you want to kiss better, darlin'? You get to choose first, for being so damned cute."
Pax Whitby - October 21, 2010 11:19 PM (GMT)
A friend, people say, is someone who's there to support you when you stumble, and to pick you back up when you fall. It was a testament to their close bond, the speed with which both Phoenix and Cooper reacted to Pax's harsh descent from the love swing. Phoenix stumbled slightly in his hurry to get to Pax side, almost crashing to the floor next to him. His expression was torn in two, halfway laughing at the comical aspect of the situation, and halfway concerned that Pax had actually hurt himself in the process of falling. As far as he could tell, it was nothing more serious than a slightly bruised backside, so he could see the humor in the indecisive expression, chuckling at the attempt to express two separate emotions at the same time.
Before he could reply to the inquiry of whether he was okay or not, Cooper interrupted him with a rather unamerican comment. Delaying his response to Phoenix concerns even further, Pax glanced up at cooper, the corners of his mouth twitching and fighting to break out into a smile. There was a short silence, during which you could practically see Pax working on a retort. It took some effort, but he managed to ignore the slur, instead smiling reassuringly at Phoenix, and nodding his head.
"I'm fine," he said, struggling into a sitting position on the floor, rearranging his legs so they were under him rather than splayed at strange angles. "I need to work a bit on my landing," he added dryly, just as Cooper joined the two of them. Two fingers run gently through Pax's hair just above his ear expressed Cooper's concern as effectively as Phoenix's worried expression.
"Shame on me, being politically incorrect in your hour of need, when I should be kissing it better."
Pax chuckled again, anticipation rising in him as Cooper snuggled closer, hinting that 'kissing it better' wasn't just a figure of speech. The other man's lips landed just below his jaw line, in just the right spot. Pax smile widened, and he lifted a hand to run through Cooper's hair. "That's much better," he said, letting his hand come to a rest on the junction between Cooper's neck and shoulder, just where his shirt gave way to skin.
Which part do you want to kiss better, darlin'? You get to choose first, for being so damned cute."
Pax laughed, shaking his head almost imperceptibly at Cooper, and at the same time, he motioned for Phoenix to come closer, reaching out for the younger man's hand. He let their fingers intertwine, and stroked the back of Phoenix's hand lightly with his thumb.
"I should fall down more often," he decided. A sheepish quality was added to his smile as he spoke. "It's definitely worth it."
Phoenix Delafield - December 18, 2010 06:52 PM (GMT)
Despite thinking that Pax probably hadn’t hurt himself Phoenix was still relieved when Pax didn’t seem to be showing any indication of being injured. His hands hovered before resting on Pax’s arm briefly as Cooper joined them and a burst of laughter was unavoidable at the comment that would have no doubt had many a customer exiting the shop in a huff if there had been any. But then the sight of the three owners tangled together on the floor below a sex swing might have the same effect. Phoenix covered his mouth with his hand to attempt to control his amusement, as though he had been caught doing something bad, more because of Pax’s fall than whether the joke was ‘suitable’. Whatever other people might think of such a joke, Cooper could do no wrong in Phoenix’s eyes and, unsurprisingly, political correctness was not something that he had particularly bothered himself with.
Phoenix shuffled to one side to give his friend room to sit up, relieved once more when the reassurance came that he was fine. A comfortable smile settled on his lips as Cooper snuggled into Pax, and he did the same on the other side, enjoying the fact that despite the fall, they were once again reunited. Another laugh, less explosive than the last, more quiet and content left him as he watched Cooper place a lingering, healing kiss against Pax’s neck. He looked up as the offer to choose his place to kiss Pax better, his smile broadening along with his friends, before he turned his attention to the dark haired man in between them. His eyebrows rose, playful and questioning as his light gaze ran over the other man’s body, searching for the perfect place to kiss him better.
“I think that’s the best offer I’ve ever received.” Phoenix replied, a further wink accompanying his words, as he willingly responded to Pax’s gesture for him to come closer and he snuggled in. The hand that wasn’t currently occupied with being stroked by the older man supported him against the floor, while he lifted one of his legs, elevating it over Pax’s legs so that he could nudge at Cooper’s knee with the toe of his trainer. “I don’t have three hands.” He explained apologetically, before pausing and grinning suddenly. “Imagine if I did. I’d be the most popular prostitute in the whole of America.” Carefully he lowered his foot back to the floor, without kicking Pax in the process and leaned back a little more so that his head could find a comfortable place to lean on his friend’s shoulder contentedly.
“Oh, I didn’t make you better!” Phoenix exclaimed, almost as soon as he seemed to settle into a certain position, recalling that he was supposed to be picking a spot. He straightened immediately, going back to his previous contemplation of the man, eventually deciding to take the other side of Pax’s throat to place his kiss upon, feeling that the symmetry of it would fit perfectly with the moment. He leaned in, angling his head slightly to press a gentle kiss against his skin, breathing in the more concentrated scent of Pax, familiar and wonderful as ever. “There. Much better.” Phoenix confirmed as he straightened up and then looked towards Cooper. “I think he needs a little more healing though.” The words were spoken at a stage whisper, as though they were just for Cooper and not the man sitting in between the two of them. “At least another kiss each.”
Cooper Vale - February 6, 2011 10:27 PM (GMT)
There was such a tell-tale expression in Pax's face when he fought away any indication of acceptance of Cooper's more insensitive statements, and such a delightful expression in Phoenix's when he did no such thing. He passed his younger companion a cheeky wink, before turning his attention back to Pax to do quite the opposite. Innocent eyes were all a-flutter as he watched Pax quietly working through one of Cooper's more questionable statements that day, and they stayed innocent long after, fighting back accusation of unpatriotic inclinations by playing, somewhere deep inside, the part of the boy next door. Never mind that he hadn't been able to pull it off for years; he found himself to be very next-doorsy as he snuggled up next to Pax and kissed his neck, receiving the most delightful sensation of a hand running through his hair and settling against his skin in return. He settled quietly where he was, rested against his shoulder, and was, in one of those rare moments, quiet for a moment, simply listening to the other two.
He closed one eye, while the other remained open to watch Phoenix's search for the right place to kiss. He smiled lazily, growing too comfortable in his current position to do more than that in acknowledgement of Phoenix actions and words. It became necessary to at least attempt some kind of verbal expression as his knee was nudged and Phoenix spoke, but his attempt failed. The only sound that emerged was a sort of content murmur, which he hoped at least halfway managed to express a sentiment of acceptance of Phoenix's predicament.
Snuggling closer to Pax, he was just about to release a very content sigh when Phoenix made a sudden exclamation, and his entire body twitched. His eyes opened suddenly, and he couldn't help but pout; it always ended up like that. He got too comfortable, and something sudden jolted him out of his comfort zone. (Why, it was almost a metaphor of his dating history!) He shifted his position, burying his face in Pax's neck and releasing a heavy breath - an almost huff! - against his skin. He stayed there until he heard Phoenix's stage whisper, and (assuming that it was directed at him) was compelled to peer around his friend's Adam's apple to meet Phoenix's eyes in a conspiring way. "One more," he whispered back, lifting one finger to accompany the words, "But I refuse to spoil him."
One hand on the ground, he shifted into a more conventional sitting position and leaned closer to Pax, placing a kiss right at the edge of his lips. He pulled back a little, enough to brush two fingers across the spot he'd just kissed, and grinned broadly, obviously satisfied with his second delivered kiss. His happiness was cut short, however, by the obnoxious ringing of the bell above the door. His grin was replaced by a near-sneer as he turned and attempted to look at the entrance, only to find that the view was obstructed by several rows of shelves. "Motherfuckers," he half-growled and turned back to the other two, "They're conspiring to keep us apart."
He rolled his eyes and sighed, finally dragging himself away from the other two to stumble to his feet and walk off between the aisles, heading toward the front of the store. The distance from them growing, he put on his best game face; smile broad and shiny, eyes big and sultry - it was a regular customer. "There you are, sweetness! I've been waiting for you all day." Assuming the role of lean, mean flirting-machine, he guided himself and the new arrival away from the other two men, disappearing into the back of the shop to discuss pornography, one connoisseur to another.