just_displaced | Open Post

"I had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves."

That sounds a little awkward to break out into in the bedroom, don't you think?

[He's glancing up from the book at you, Ginzo, is it making you awkward because that's entirely what he's going for.]

Are you thinking about sitting down or just providing me with a little shade?

[Yes. It's making him very awkward. But he's mostly stopped pacing. He's just kind of standing there. Staring.]

I don't even know where to start with... I mean... not only does all of that sound ridiculous, it's just... I feel offended, as a writer. Even though I'm a different kind of writer.

[Very reluctantly sitting on the very edge of the bed, because awkwardly looming is probably worse than just sitting down. For a second. He's still eyeing the door like it'll fling itself open at any moment.]

Why are you even reading that? Is that the only book that's in here? Please tell me it's not.

I've never read anything you've written but I'm positive you could do better than this.

[He doesn't look up when Ginsberg sits out, but the corner of his mouth does twitch up in a smile.]

Only one I've found so far, although to be honest I haven't checked under the bed yet.

You probably have read stuff I've written, actually. You just wouldn't know it. They're advertisements, so it's not like the guy that writes the copy for them gets credited. But unless you've avoided all print media and all television for the last five years, you've read or heard my stuff.

[Oh hey, the one thing he's confident about. That's better than staring at the door.]

If there're books under the bed, they're probably even worse. Isn't that where people hide books they're ashamed of?

Or porn, but seeing as I found porn in the bedside table, I assume they're not hung up on hiding it.

[Ginsberg does get an impressive smile for that, though, because hey he's not freaking out so much now.]

Oh yes. Anything big I might have heard of?

That's not even good enough to be porn, I don't think. Not that porn means that something is inherently good, because there's a lot of bad porn out there, but it's not even erotic. It's just clumsy.

[Smiles are good. Smiles are better than freaking out. Even though he does glance over at the door again. And he's way over on the edge of the bed.]

I did some ads for Jaguar. Uh, Chevalier Blanc. Manischewitz. That makes it sound like I do mostly cars and alcohol. I guess that's not entirely inaccurate. Heinz Ketchup, there's one that's not cars or alcohol.

Come on, though, you barely have to sell ketchup. People love that shit!

[He's smiling broadly now because Ginsberg is talking and not pacing and really how is he so precious.]

That's actually the basis of the ad, basically. It doesn't even show the ketchup. It just assumes that people already want it, they just have to be reminded which brand to buy. And c'mon, nobody buys any brand besides Heinz, anyway. I mean, there's Hunt's, but nobody cares about them.

[Why are you smiling so much, man? It's making him paranoid again. And he may not be pacing, but he's still kind of... shaking with nervous energy. Ever so slightly.]

[But the more he smiles, the more flustered he gets. It's totally win-win.]

Sounds like a real winner.

[He looks up from his book again to catch the edge of Ginsberg shaking like that and honestly. The way some people fall to bits because of a little potential kidnapping.]

For pete's sake, come on and lie down. You're shaking like a fucking leaf, you know.

Yeah, I know, it's just that this isn't exactly a normal situation for me. I mean, maybe you get locked in random rooms all the time, but I'm not used to it. I don't know how to handle it. I don't think lying down is going to help.

[But he's willing to give it a try. Very, very slowly. And gingerly. And awkwardly. But then, he does most things awkwardly.]

I won't lie and say it's my first time, no.

[Wiggling his eyebrows at you? Maybe only a little. Still, as soon as Ginsberg is lying down he's lifting his arm up to settle behind his head, giving him room to shuffle in if he chooses to.]

[He's an instinctively cuddly person. That's just how he is. Even still, he's a little too jittery to properly scoot closer, but he's still shuffling just a tiny bit closer.]

How did you get out of being locked in a room the last time? Did you just wait for it to open up? Doesn't that get boring?

Boring's a relative concept you've been around as long as I have.

[Oliver will just makes things a little easier by tightening his arm around Ginsberg's shoulder, settling him as he goes back to reading his book one-handed.]

The last time was pirate-related, so I don't really see that being terribly relevant this time.

Pirate related?

[Well, that's kind of intriguing, at least. And yeah, he's not really protesting the arm around his shoulder. And now he can't help but looking at the page that Oliver's currently reading. Which quickly leads to him making a disgusted face. Disgusted and flustered, what an odd combination.]

That's... How can you stand to actually be reading more than a page of this? Doesn't it make you deeply and utterly uncomfortable?

I was on this ship, you see. It used to takes ages to get places before proper boat engines, let me tell you. Planes are just making it ridiculous.

[Bad at staying on topic? Yep, pretty much most of the time. Anyway, Ginsberg is reading too now, which means he should turn it out a little bit more on his direction.]

Why would it make me uncomfortable? It's just a book.

That's right, I keep forgetting you're really, really old. Is that offensive? I mean, to call you really old? You don't look really old.

[He's just going to be shaking his head.]

Because it's so... I mean, I'm all for freedom of speech. I definitely think people should be able to write what they want. It's just... do people actually do this stuff?

Can't really be offensive if it's true, can it?

[Excuse him moving his arm to scratch his beard a little. Don't worry, he'll put it right back afterwards.]

Oh, loads of people. But it's not really like it's written here at all. A lot more discussion and less dancing inner goddesses.

Why, the idea of the handcuffs putting you off?

See, I always say that, but then people take offense to me telling the truth a lot, so I guess it can be offensive if it's true.

[Seriously, this is consistently a problem for him. People are so touchy.]

No, the idea of handcuffs is fine. I mean, theoretically. It's just the whole, uh... yeah. The dancing inner goddesses thing. And the really stilted dialogue.

It's really pretty far from erotic, isn't it?

[Yes, he's laughing again, deal with it. He sends another cheeky grin in Ginsberg's direction.

A few pages later, and he's lost interest in the book, so he chucks it one-handed at the door. It only gives a mildly satisfying thump.]

I'm offended by your reading suggestions!

[Nope, still no reaction from outside the room.]

I'd be interested to find out later if anyone heard that.

Yep. I can think of about a hundred things off the top of my head that're more erotic, and I wouldn't know erotic if it punched me in the face. Which, incidentally, isn't erotic.

[He stares at the door for a minute, just willing it to open somehow.]

So now what? Our reading material is subpar, and we're locked in here. And there's nothing to eat, and no television. We might actually go crazy.

We could always play charades.

[Although that would involve moving, which Oliver doesn't seem overly keen on doing right now. In fact, lying back to settle himself a little more comfortably on the pillows behind him seems far more preferable.]

You'd win. I'm really bad at charades. Laughably bad.

[And it's kind of comfy here. Even if they are locked in for the foreseeable future. And hey, at least he doesn't have to feel super awkward about being almost-kinda snuggled up with this guy, because he seems to be enjoying it just fine.]

That sounds like an excellent reason to do it, then. Pencil me in for a little later.

[In the mean time, a nap seems like the best use of your time when you're locked in a room with a bed, another warm body, and no reading material. Well, the second best use. But Oberon really does like a good cuddle now and then, and this kid just flusters so easily that's it's hard not to want to keep doing things to provoke him. He'll just casually distract with another beard scratch as he re-adjusts his arm to bring him closer.]

Might as well try to sleep if you can. By the time we wake up, the door might be open. Or maybe there won't be a wall, we really don't know how any of this works.

I don't think I can sleep like this. I mean, I'm one of those people that lies in bed awake for hours thinking about all the terrible things that're probably going to happen in the morning. And that's when I'm in my own room. When I'm locked in a room with someone else, it's even worse. At least, I imagine it is. I've never been locked in a room with someone else before.

[Oh, okay, he appears to be even closer now. This is very cuddly. A nice kind of cuddly. He could get used to this. Even if he's definitely extremely flustered now, and trying his damnedest to hide it.]

Has anyone ever told you to take up yoga? Meditation? It might do wonders.

[He can feel how tensely he's holding himself, the way the muscles in his arms and back are clenched up. He lets his thumb trace a few calming circles along his upper arm, barely a feather touch. Really, he's being so well-behaved, his restraint is phenomenal.]

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