Participants:
| Scene Title | Out With It, Kid |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Just another morning, really. |
| Date | February 10, 2011 |
Hamilton Heights: Felix's Apartment
Fel is not a demonstrative man. Even two decades of life in New York isn't enough to rid him of some of that stereotypical Russian reserve. But he's smiling as he goes through his morning ritual of tending the little vigil lamp. It's generally the first thing he does of a morning, after putting the water for tea on the stove. It's a funny, dreamy little smile.
Ziadie makes his way into the kitchen, leaning on the door frame. He's not often up this early, but he is this morning, the small silver flask in his hand. The older man is quiet, doesn't say anything yet, but there's a bit of amusement in his eyes.
"Morning," Felix doesn't quite chirp. That's beneath his dignity. But he's very obviously happy about all of it, and it shows.
Eyebrows raise in silent question, and Ziadie chuckles, under his breath. The flask gets shoved into Ziadie's pocket so that he can more easily stretch a bit. "Morning."
Felix just sort of looks at him, guilelessly. What? "What would you like for breakfast? i'm having bacon and toast," he explains, almost sunny.
Ziadie chuckles a little more. "Sure." It's assent, as much as he ever gives in the morning. And then once more, Ziadie raises his eyebrows, just a little bit of a question behind it. Enough to give the younger man a hard time, but not really pushing. Much.
He's almost purring. Happy Russian is happy. Which is….hilariously out of place. Like a Disney princess sure her prince is arriving today. "Okay," he says. "How're you feeling?" he adds, more solicitous, glancing over his shoulder.
"No worse than usual," Ziadie responds, moving to sit down at the table now rather than just standing in the doorway and leaning on the doorframe. On the other hand, the answer isn't good, considering the older man is drinking already. The inquisitive look doesn't really leave Ziadie's face, though. He's just not going to push for information Felix isn't volunteering.
He's looking away, when he adds (perhaps to hide the blush that he knows is coming), "I…uh…hope we didn't keep you up," Felix is utterly embarrassed.
And now, Ziadie just chuckles. He doesn't make an attempt to hide it, or anything. "No no." He shakes his head, with a bit of a smile. More of one than he usually has in the morning. "You're only young once, after all."
Felix looks at him, shyly, out of the corner of his eye. Almost afraid - there's a hunch to his shoulders to go along with it. Furtive, really.
Ziadie is just smiling, a little, even as he takes out the flask to take another long sip from it. He leans back. There's half a question formulating in his thoughts, but it's just too early for the older man. Absolutely no judgment in his expression, though, just a small wry smile.
And the Russian dares say nothing, really. Still that faintly guilty air to him.
"So wait," Ziadie muses, not quite directly at Felix. "Ivanov, one moment you're practically glowing, and then this?" The older man grins as he teases the younger. "Out with it, kid."
Fel makes this face. His lips purse, like he literally can't say it. "I….." He pauses a moment. "Uh. Am glad you don't mind me having company over." What a bland way to describe the noises that'd been coming from his bedroom.
Raising his eyebrows seems to be Ziadie's favoured form of question, this morning, and he chuckles quietly. "Ivanov, Ivanov…" the older man just smiles. "You're only young once. I could spout some bullshit about what makes you happy, but it's too god damn early in the morning for putting pretty words at it. In other words: the particular gender of your uh…company is unimportant. It doesn't change anything." He drums his fingers on the table, and just smiles a little.
Fel hunches his shoulders, a little, in a rather turtlish fashion. But he seems pleased. "Good," he says, bluntly, after a moment. "I'm glad."
"Good." Ziadie leans back, quiet for now. Considering something, but whatever it is he doesn't say.
Though Fel's rather fidgety, there's generally that sense of perpetual motion to him even in repose, sometimes he just sits like a bump on a log. This is one of t hose times, as he flumps back down in his kitchen chair, and yawns hugely, not bothering to cover it. Here's to Soviet steel dentistry.
There's a bit of a pause, and then Ziadie's taken up another opportunity to tease Felix. "I take it you didn't actually sleep much, hm?"
His eyes are nearly closed. "No. I fear not," says Fel, with mock gravity. And then he yawns again, this time with a spidery hand before his mouth.
The older man tsks a bit, quietly, not particularly bothering to hide his overall amusement.
"And what news with you?" Apparently he realizes he'd better keep the conversation going. Lapsing into erotic reverie in front of your houseguest is quite the faux pas.
Ziadie chuckles, pursing his lips a bit. "Not much more than the usual," he admits, quiet. "Most of the paperwork for working for Redbird is done." The part that isn't, well, it's not pleasant morning conversation, and isn't something Ziadie's going to bring up.
Felix bobs his head, blinks once, twice, and then gets up to put his dish in the sink.
Now it's Ziadie's turn to yawn, slightly, and he glances around the kitchen, with a nod of acknowledgment. He seems to have used up his supply of sentences for the morning, really, with his bit of a speech earlier.
