[Kieran works well in a crunch, even if he has to dial back his brain a bit from thinking of a hook up to now... whatever this is. He liked the reward of being a sugarbaby for the little he had to do (sex and attention? psh, easy) and now this is part two of Harry pitching him a wild throw and rather than letting it sail past him, he feels oddly compelled to follow it. Ugh, empathy. Why couldn't he not have that, alongside not feeling pain.]
You comfy? Here, you should probably take that shirt off.
[He leans to start unbuttoning; but also leans into the touch. If it appeases Harry and makes getting him a little more stripped, it works for Kieran.]
[Kieran wrestles the shirt off, but leaves it under him. He'll roll him over later - for now, he just slips out of his shoes; he's lucky he came over in sweats, because it makes crawling up on the bed and around Harry a little easier. He tucks a pillow under his head, and takes a long moment before he replies.]
You don't want me to love you, do you?
[It was never on the docket. But something else obviously is, and Kieran is nosy. He crawls to sit next to Harry, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He won't lie to him, though. That's only fair.]
I like you a lot. But like and love are different things.
Yes. Yes, they are. I am, apparently, not very good at telling them apart. I've been dumped. I thought... I very foolishly fell in love with a young man who did not return my feelings. It's all very absurd, really.
I may have taken it better if my ex husband weren't here. I don't know. I slept with him. Isn't that stupid?
[He presses his hand to his eyes for a moment.]
I felt I should ask. Just to keep my head on straight.
[Sorry, tea. Kieran wiggles to take that familiar nook at Harry's side again, slinging his arm over his chest and absently stroking it - playing with that chest hair a bit.]
I like what we have but we've always been pretty clear on what it was, right?
[Kieran trying to do mental math with the gossip factored into remember if it's Alaric or Strange that Harry was married to. Either way, they're both arguably attractive. He nuzzles in to listen, because that's one of the things he's best at.]
I think that's pretty normal. Especially after you've been dumped. You need some time to think about what it is you actually want. And to make sure you're not just going for stuff 'cause you think you should. That's how rebounds happen.
[But point made. Kieran rests his chin on Harry after moving to lay more soundly against him, climbing up to do so - scaling him like the world's saddest mountain, belly to belly. This lets him stare into his face a bit, legs straddling either side of him. It is surprisingly lacking in sensuality. For now, anyway.]
But having emotion's nothing to be weird about. It means your human. Living and learning. Do you wanna talk about either of 'em? The one that dumped you, or the ex you're still kinda into?
[It's weirdly comforting to have Kieran on top of him. Not really sexy, but that's okay.
Harry sighs and hooks his arms around him.]
The first is Timoteo Salvatore. The one with the porn tape. ...our porn tape. Koby filmed it. The more I really think about the entire situation, the stupider I feel.
I'm not into my ex, I'm... I don't know how to describe it. Not having Alaric was, for a long time, like missing a limb. We were married. We lived together. For years. Every day I woke up to that man and I thought... how lucky I was.
[His eyes are wet.]
It's... very difficult to acknowledge that you're just absolutely shit at making people happy.
[Kieran's eyes manage not to widen at the fact that there's a porn tape of Harry going around that that twink Koby apparently filmed? He is going to have to watch that later - respectfully. But he listens to Harry continue and he can't really relate to the marriage part. He's had his own set of relationships but... what is being in love? Kieran has yet to really know.]
You're not shit at making people happy.
[Wild for a sugarbaby to say, sure.]
You make me happy. And I don't mean with your wallet or even with your dick. I like your company and I like you. You're just... finding out that it's hard to find the right people in life. They come and they go. You're not always in the same circles overlapping but that just means more people will be... eventually.
Eh, I put up with a lot of people pretty often. You're far from the worst.
[A lot of people put up with Kieran, too. He tries not to get distracted in his own thoughts about that tape - maybe he should ask Harry if he wants to film their own porno sometime. Is he into that? Or was it maybe a one time thing... or something tethered to his ex. God, he's got so many exes.]
You looking to give?
[Playful. Normally he'd go with that thought - expand it, be bold and bright about it. Yes, I want my own London flat. I want every game console in the living room, a bedroom for my collectables and a bedroom just for fucking in. I want a kitchen with two fridges and a Jeep in the garage.]
I still wouldn't mind a vacay. It gets boring here after a while, but my dad's invested.
I'll have to check my books, but I'm sure I can worm away some time.
[Unless he ends up entangled in some family drama. But for now, he lets himself (and Harry) be occupied with the fantasy of time away - he stretches out his arms and hoists himself a little farther up Harry's torso so he can nuzzle in against his jaw. He encourages him to wrap his arms around him in return, giving a little testing roll of his his to see what it might inspire.]
There should be beaches. Warm, warm beaches. Clothing optional beaches.
[Kieran had opened his mouth to reply as if the word Nunavut made sense, but by the time Harry had corrected himself - whatever was in his head to say had disappeared like a dream after waking. Weird, but... New Zealand? He raises his brows, nuzzles his neck a little more and then gives his hips another subtle roll.]
I like the sound of that. The greenery's nice. And there's lots of whales, right? I wanna see whales.
[He asks, pushing his palms into the bed so he can lift himself up just enough to look Harry eye to eye. He watches his expression, and debates whether or not to sit up or not. He feels like there's plenty of 'strange rooms' in the manor yet he can't seem to think of many offhand...]
[What's in the baaaaax, Harry? Kieran is now interested and engaged, and sits up; hips still over Harry's, straddling him but in a still somehow leisurely way. He rests his hands down on Harry's abdomen and sides, like the world's most docile bull ride.]
[After all that's been going on, it's more that Kieran thinks perhaps that was just the exact moment Harry hit 'rock bottom' after all that's happened. Exes. Dumped. Delirium. Just a bubble finally popping around him, leaving him to wonder and feel even more peeled back and unsure of himself. He could leave it at that, but...]
Sometimes I look in the mirrors here and I don't think I know who's looking back at me. Is that weird, too?
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cw: joking about suicide
[Flop. Right onto the bed.]
No. No, that's probably a bad idea. Might leap off.
[He turns so he can reach up and touch Kieran's cheek.]
You're a dear, Kieran.
sadsir no
You comfy? Here, you should probably take that shirt off.
[He leans to start unbuttoning; but also leans into the touch. If it appeases Harry and makes getting him a little more stripped, it works for Kieran.]
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[Harry wriggles and sort of kind of helps get his shirt off. He lays there, hairy chest exposed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment.
Then he looks to Kieran and smiles.]
You don't love me. Right?
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You don't want me to love you, do you?
[It was never on the docket. But something else obviously is, and Kieran is nosy. He crawls to sit next to Harry, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He won't lie to him, though. That's only fair.]
I like you a lot. But like and love are different things.
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Yes. Yes, they are. I am, apparently, not very good at telling them apart. I've been dumped. I thought... I very foolishly fell in love with a young man who did not return my feelings. It's all very absurd, really.
I may have taken it better if my ex husband weren't here. I don't know. I slept with him. Isn't that stupid?
[He presses his hand to his eyes for a moment.]
I felt I should ask. Just to keep my head on straight.
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[Sorry, tea. Kieran wiggles to take that familiar nook at Harry's side again, slinging his arm over his chest and absently stroking it - playing with that chest hair a bit.]
I like what we have but we've always been pretty clear on what it was, right?
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[He curls his arm around Kieran. It feels good.]
I knew it was a bad idea, but... I miss him. God help me, I miss him. Doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous, I suppose. You've probably seen him.
And yes. We have. But then, that's how this other mess started too, so... I don't know. I'm a mess, Kieran. I don't know who I've become.
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I think that's pretty normal. Especially after you've been dumped. You need some time to think about what it is you actually want. And to make sure you're not just going for stuff 'cause you think you should. That's how rebounds happen.
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[A sigh. He really is miserable.]
Stupid.
...and now I'm trying not to cry on the kid who blows me for computer games. Good Lord, who am I?
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[But point made. Kieran rests his chin on Harry after moving to lay more soundly against him, climbing up to do so - scaling him like the world's saddest mountain, belly to belly. This lets him stare into his face a bit, legs straddling either side of him. It is surprisingly lacking in sensuality. For now, anyway.]
But having emotion's nothing to be weird about. It means your human. Living and learning. Do you wanna talk about either of 'em? The one that dumped you, or the ex you're still kinda into?
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Harry sighs and hooks his arms around him.]
The first is Timoteo Salvatore. The one with the porn tape. ...our porn tape. Koby filmed it. The more I really think about the entire situation, the stupider I feel.
I'm not into my ex, I'm... I don't know how to describe it. Not having Alaric was, for a long time, like missing a limb. We were married. We lived together. For years. Every day I woke up to that man and I thought... how lucky I was.
[His eyes are wet.]
It's... very difficult to acknowledge that you're just absolutely shit at making people happy.
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You're not shit at making people happy.
[Wild for a sugarbaby to say, sure.]
You make me happy. And I don't mean with your wallet or even with your dick. I like your company and I like you. You're just... finding out that it's hard to find the right people in life. They come and they go. You're not always in the same circles overlapping but that just means more people will be... eventually.
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Harry looks at Kieran with a drunken studiousness.]
Thank you. It's easy for you to say it, as you don't have to put up with me every day, but it's sweet of you all the same.
What would you like most in the world, Kieran? A car? An apartment in London?
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[A lot of people put up with Kieran, too. He tries not to get distracted in his own thoughts about that tape - maybe he should ask Harry if he wants to film their own porno sometime. Is he into that? Or was it maybe a one time thing... or something tethered to his ex. God, he's got so many exes.]
You looking to give?
[Playful. Normally he'd go with that thought - expand it, be bold and bright about it. Yes, I want my own London flat. I want every game console in the living room, a bedroom for my collectables and a bedroom just for fucking in. I want a kitchen with two fridges and a Jeep in the garage.]
I still wouldn't mind a vacay. It gets boring here after a while, but my dad's invested.
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[Harry is at such a low point that his words barely read as sarcasm. 'Not the worst' is pretty good, currently.
He's also at a point where spoiling a new boytoy seems like a great idea. Part revenge, part fulfilling a need to look after someone.]
A holiday it is, then. Pick the place, dear boy. We'll go as soon as possible. Sod this place and everyone in it.
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[Unless he ends up entangled in some family drama. But for now, he lets himself (and Harry) be occupied with the fantasy of time away - he stretches out his arms and hoists himself a little farther up Harry's torso so he can nuzzle in against his jaw. He encourages him to wrap his arms around him in return, giving a little testing roll of his his to see what it might inspire.]
There should be beaches. Warm, warm beaches. Clothing optional beaches.
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Mm. How about Nunavut?
[He pauses, frowning with the sort of concentration only the drunk can manage.]
Excuse me. I meant to say New Zealand. They've beautiful beaches. White sand, clear water... what more could one want? We could go snorkeling.
[He hugs Kieran to him. His heart is beating just a little too fast.]
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I like the sound of that. The greenery's nice. And there's lots of whales, right? I wanna see whales.
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[He feels cold all over and has to force himself not to clutch Kieran too tight. Harry swallows.]
Kieran... have you. Have you found a strange room, in your time here?
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[He asks, pushing his palms into the bed so he can lift himself up just enough to look Harry eye to eye. He watches his expression, and debates whether or not to sit up or not. He feels like there's plenty of 'strange rooms' in the manor yet he can't seem to think of many offhand...]
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[He speaks slowly. He only found it once, when he was drunk, after his messy public meltdowns. Alicent had helped him back to his room, after.]
But it was full of very old chests and trunks... dust everywhere, you know, like it hadn't been opened in years. There was a box...
[He has to close his eyes, his entire body suddenly aching.]
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[What's in the baaaaax, Harry? Kieran is now interested and engaged, and sits up; hips still over Harry's, straddling him but in a still somehow leisurely way. He rests his hands down on Harry's abdomen and sides, like the world's most docile bull ride.]
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Treasure. But then it wasn't. It was... broken glass, I think. And something else, something dead.
I can't recall. But ever since, things have felt wrong.
[He opens his eyes.]
Do you think I'm losing my mind?
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[After all that's been going on, it's more that Kieran thinks perhaps that was just the exact moment Harry hit 'rock bottom' after all that's happened. Exes. Dumped. Delirium. Just a bubble finally popping around him, leaving him to wonder and feel even more peeled back and unsure of himself. He could leave it at that, but...]
Sometimes I look in the mirrors here and I don't think I know who's looking back at me. Is that weird, too?
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[He takes one of Kieran's hands in his own.]
I'm frightened.
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