video; un: whiteroad

[whiteroadrunning]

[Our scene is laid in a pod kitchen. The first-person view displays a countertop, with a toaster upon it. The toaster is older, a bit battered, but it's been lovingly polished to some semblance of its former glory. It's plugged in, but when Alec pushes the lever -- which he's done a few times since the video started -- he's not pushing it down quite hard enough to engage the power. Also, there's no bread inside. It seems, at the moment, he's just trying to figure out how it works.

Functional usage can come later.

After the fourth or fifth try, Alec sighs.]

Oh, Sakor's t--

This is a foolish question, no doubt. But would someone care to explain this to me? I've taken the damned thing apart and put it back together twice, and I can't...

It's for bread, yes? Or pastries?

[Alec grumbles and kneels down beside the counter. The feed cuts after a brief flash of his distorted reflection in the toaster, pouting, brow furrowed with frustration.]

Comments

[of_bokthersa]

[That just causes him to cackle with laughter as he throws a sausage at him.]

You're supposed to be helping me take things slow, talí.

[whiteroadrunning]

[Alec manages to dodge the sausage, but that just causes it to fall -- woefully -- to the floor. That didn't benefit anyone now, did it? Alec stares at it mournfully for a few long moments.]

How am I meant to take things slowly when you're throwing your sausage at me!

[of_bokthersa]

I believe you've been insisting on eating my sausage for a few moments.

[whiteroadrunning]

That was before you were tossing it. You must be precise with your sausage, talí.

[of_bokthersa]

Ah, so you no longer what my sausage. I'll keep it all to myself then.

[He takes another bite.]

[whiteroadrunning]

Now wait a moment. Here's a thought. [Alec holds up his pointer finger.] What if you share your sausage, without launching it at me?

[of_bokthersa]

And now you're being demanding about the specifics of the sharing of my sausage.

[whiteroadrunning]

A little finesse is all I'm asking.

[of_bokthersa]

That's insulting to my technique.

[whiteroadrunning]

Your technique is impeccable. I'm questioning your approach.

[of_bokthersa]

It seems like an insult. Perhaps I should take my sausage elsewhere.

[He's still eating the sausage.]

There are plenty of sausage deprived people, you met most of them earlier when you learned about that toaster.

[whiteroadrunning]

You seem to forget I rank among them now.

[of_bokthersa]

Well, at least you rank at the top.

[He disappears, reappearing with a pan full of slightly overcooked sausage. Clearly, he's made more even if he was eating them all before; he then sets the whole thing on the table.]

Where are my bold eggs?

[whiteroadrunning]

[Alec nudges at the plate beside him on the table.]

Probably cold.

[of_bokthersa]

[He puts them on his plate anyway.]

I'm banning you from jam for the foreseeable future.

[Which is all he'll say about what could have been their lack of sausage.]

[whiteroadrunning]

[Alec leans toward Seregil, the smallest shift that nevertheless brings him close enough to press a quick kiss to Seregil's cheek.]

I suppose I'll just have to steal sugar instead.

[of_bokthersa]

[The smirk it brings is fond and slightly wistful.]

I feel as though I may need to ban you from a great many things by the time we're done.

[whiteroadrunning]

Maybe so. We'll have to weed them out one by one.

[of_bokthersa]

[The thought to lean over and kiss him is there. Not a chaste kiss, as Alec had given him, but a deep and lingering one.

It was hard to fight the instinct to lavish Alec with affection when the other man offered it up and wished to receive it so willingly.]

I think you'd enjoy it too much.

[whiteroadrunning]

I think you're right.

[Alec leans away again and tries to turn his attention back to breakfast. It's only marginally effective. He can still feel the warmth of Seregil's cheek on his lips, and he wants just a moment to savor that sensation before something else graces them and banishes the feeling.]

[of_bokthersa]

[There was the tug again, to tease the other man and pull him into his lap. To just hold Alec and revel in his warmth. Alec was always warm.

Instead, he settled for stealing a piece of sausage off his plate.]

The question is, what should I do with you?

[whiteroadrunning]

[Alec has accepted that the possibility of getting any sausage with his breakfast is a far-flung dream. But Seregil doesn't get a pass on throwing around innuendo unchecked. Alec smirks, brow rising slightly at the question.]

What would you like to do to me, talí?

[of_bokthersa]

[The pause is slight, almost imperceptible before he bites into Alec's sausage. As teasing as it may be and as innocent as Seregil's question was before it, there was a lot to think over. Seregil knew precisely what he wanted to do to Alec; it was the same thing he'd wanted to do since he'd realized that Alec had overtaken his heart, and even before that.

He wanted to cherish him. Remain by his side for as long as Alec would allow it, and let the other man continue to carve himself deep into his heart (not that he thought Alec could do so any more in-depth than he already had). To him, Alec was precious; he was everything Seregil knew that he didn't deserve. Another reason he'd refused to admit his feelings, one he suspected he hadn't told the other man.

He reached over, threading his fingers with Alec's before answering.]

Time, talí.

[There may have been no thought to their joined emotions before, but this wasn't then. Seregil needed time to think, and no matter how much he wanted to move forward in a physical sense, he needed to take care with this.]

[whiteroadrunning]

[Alec's overstepped, and he knows it as much by what Seregil doesn't say as by what he does. There's no easy laughter or mischief in his grin, and Alec makes a mental note to be more passive in their flirtations moving forward. A more active role only seems to send Seregil's walls up again.

But again, it's not Seregil's fault. Alec has to keep reminding himself of that. And as rebukes go, at least it's gentle. Alec's smile softens, and he brings Seregil's hand up to press a kiss to his thumb.]

I'm sorry. I forget myself.

[of_bokthersa]

[Seregil frowned, rubbing the same thumb Alec had kissed over the man's joint.]

You're no longer the prudish Dalnan boy I met in Asengai's dungeon. It's hard to remember, and I forget myself along with the banter.

[Reaching over, he brushed strands of hair from Alec's face. It was hard being desperately in love with a man who, sitting before you, was much older than he should be. It was an adjustment for both of them, and Seregil hated it. He hated that Alec had to school himself when he'd become such a vivacious and brilliant man, that Seregil would hurt that man more than comfort him.]

It isn't you talí; it's me. You have nothing to apologize for.