[MINGLE] Scout's Honor

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: Hot Springs
WHEN: 21 Sept, after sunset
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Please warn in your subject line as needed
NOTES: Details found here

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It's been a strange, rough couple of months for our intrepid villagers — Bunkers, superpowers and clones, oh my! Perhaps the Observers are sympathetic to their plight, or maybe they just have a peculiar sense of humor. At any rate, they've set up a gathering space chalk full of summer camp goodness, no strings attached. Not that anyone knows that part.

Just before sunset, a cheery message pops up on wrist devices all across the settlement and beyond. The instructions seem simple enough, although one does have to wonder at what dubious gift awaits them all after everything is said and done.

Marshmallows are on the house, so grab yourself a stick, strap on a sash and get to roasting, villagers. Skinny dipping, sing-alongs and friendship bracelets optional.

Comments

[quinientos]

Vasquez's first language isn't English, but he's been around enough English speakers to know when to hear the perfect set-up for a pun and this? Well, this is the best one that he's heard in a long time, which is why he feels so secure in his smirk. "You're only planning to come through the window?"

Clucking his tongue and shaking his head, he gives Cael a disappointed look. "I don't know, now, is that's the only place you intend to come."

He settles the legs on his lap easily, thumb sliding up and down the skin given to him, mainly because it's both something to do and something he really wants to do.

[cannily]

Cael tips his head back, no smoke to blow, just a dark sky to implore for the will to go on. He did walk into that one, but it's--cute, he supposes, how happy this Vasquez seems with himself.

They all deserve something like that, tonight.

The hand on his knee contributes just a smidge. "Plan? No, but I don't really know your skills in that area." And with the joke on the table, with the dark and trees separating them from whatever polite company might exist here, he might as well leave the gloves with his odd little sash. "I can only hope you fuck better than you smoke."

He looks down, rather specifically, and back up: "Or that you continue to make up for quality with quantity."

[quinientos]

"You look at me smoking and you don't think I would be good with my mouth?" he defends himself, stubborn on this because he might not be able to blow a smoke ring, but he's got plenty of his own tricks when it comes to making sure he's never failing to please.

"If you have better offers, maybe someone who smokes better, I wouldn't want to ruin you," he teases, still intending to get whatever he can. "I have a good mouth, plenty of quantity, and maybe I don't mind someone who knows how to have a good time on top of me."

[cannily]

"Not all men are willing to use it," he counters, letting Vasquez bear himself up in even mocking defense. "Skilled or no. And I am perfectly capable wherever you prefer me."

But talk is a currency that loses value with use, in situations such as this. Withdrawing one leg, he puts his outflung arm around the knee, adjusting for the quiet slip of his body through the water. He moves to straddle his lap on the slight shelf of stone, give him a taste of what he might find over him tonight.

"Leave the window unlatched," he says, hovering close. One hand brushes the cigarette from Vasquez's mouth, taking it up to one side. He can taste it when he leans in, a kiss that starts simple and turns sharp, rolls and eventually scrapes the man's bottom lip on his teeth. The other hand pats him on the cheek, and Cael puts the cigarette between his own lips as he climbs out over Vasquez's shoulder. The air is cold in the dark, in its own right and after the heat of the spring. The dark curtain of his hair takes a deep scoop out of his silhouette, as he walks back to his clothes. "I'll stop by tonight."

[quinientos]

Vasquez grins as he sees what's coming for him, that kiss that he's been hoping for. Even better, a promise comes on its heels that lights up Vasquez's hopes for the evening. He leans forward, like searching for more of that kiss, but watching Cael go is a good show, too.

"I'll see what I can do," he plays at being casual, as if he doesn't already have plans to keep the window unlatched and smoke so that Cael knows for sure which room belongs to him.