lucetilogs | March 14th, | Early afternoon

Who: Zevran Arainai, Jack Holden, Eugene Woods, and Max Woodville
What: Relocation of residence
When: March 16th
Where: House # 51
Summary: Zev, Jack, Eugene, and Max have decided to move in together in house # 51, and thus they are having a house(w)arming party!
Rating: PG-13 because of Zevran

Times like these, Eugene was glad that his and Jack's time wandering the wastes before they reached Abel had taught them to travel lightly. Their own packing had been rushed, surely, both of them never much in the way of motivation for what they could do tomorrow. But their things were few and far between, the product of paranoia and a sense that everything might need to be dropped for escape at a moment's notice.

Most of the mystery was in the boxes that Zevran had, the sounds of clinking and density concealed behind chests and the variety of containers that the Antivan had procured. In fact, Eugene wondered a few times if the significant looks he gave the others when he passed by with those were more promising or warning. Such it was to live with and assassin. Truly, they were an eclectic bunch... radio hosts, assassins, and mages. Life at least would never be dull. As far as Max's belongings went he wasn't sure if there was anything specifically unique about them-- or maybe he wasn't clued in enough to notice?

The first thing at least on Eugene's mind-- and where he had commandeered for himself, was the kitchen and stocking the food before it had a chance to spoil. His own kitchen. Excuse him while he geeked internally at the prospect and was thus dutifully setting out dishes and utensils where he figured would be the most intuitive.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Zevran was still somewhat uncertain as to how he'd ended up convinced to pack everything he owned, which was no small thing after months of living in the same place, and moving it into a house down the path. There had been some manner of conversation but it seemed to him that he had not been asked. He'd been told. And when Eugene told him one thing and Jack turned those eyes upon him he found it difficult to not go along with it. He'd already decided that sentiment was safe enough.

Besides.

He would be better able to arm their home if he were actually there, yes? So he packed; furs, silks, herbs, knives, wires, everything in dense boxes that he carries on his own. They're marked subtly and some contents were less than stable. Once he found a room he cared for he began arranging his boxes in there, he could unpack once everyone else was settled in. He did, however, take the liberty of marking off the bedroom sharing a wall with the bathroom and made the other three men swear to not stack a single box in there, though he didn't say why just yet.

"Something tells me you'll be the one taking up all the counter space in the bathroom, too," Jack groused halfheartedly, putting down a box and straightening slowly. Something still twinged low in his spine, and he winced, pushing the offending spot back into place with a soft crack and brief wash of warm relief.

He wasn't actually put out - knowing when he was aggravated wasn't usually a terribly complicated feat. But he'd been moving things for the better part of the day, and there was still the matter of additional furniture to scout out and procure. So he was tired, and peckish, and more than a little envious of Eugene arranging the tea cosies or whatever it was he was doing in the kitchen.

Back more or less straightened, he looked up at the bare walls, scratching his jaw idly. "Do you plan on doing any painting?"

"When I am finished we'll have twice as much space in the bathroom for our use. But that will take time and planning." He set down the last box for that particular project and stretched, twisting his spine this way and that for a pop. The twinge and wince did not go unnoticed- he reached out to smooth a hand along Jack's flank, found the area responsible, and slipped his hand under Jack's shirt for an impromptu massage.

"Mosaic, actually. Small tiles placed to frame the space, perhaps some recessions in the walls, I am not certain yet. I have...never had a room in a house all my own before."

Ah, that was right, Antivan things were sort of . . . Romance-y, weren't they. Jack nodded a few times, even if his mental imagery Zev's plans was vague at best, only to drop his head back and leave it there as clever fingers found the snarl of tense muscle and a blissful sigh escaped him.

"Mmm. You're awfully full of decorating ideas for someone who's never had to trouble himself with it before."

With Jack's head dropped back it did expose that lovely stretch of skin from collar to jaw, and while there was some work left to do he couldn't help but lean in for a teasing nip and lick while he worked that muscle over. Cheeky. Affectionate.

"I may or may not have made plans should I ever survive long enough to earn my own house with the Crows."

"-mmm." With the thrill of unknotting muscles dancing up and down his spine, the warm gesture was just one more point of bright, welcome sensation, one more thing to lean into with a willing hum of appreciation. Blindly, he lifted his hand to sink his fingers in Zevran's hair, short hails working lightly against his scalp. "Ha, variation on a popular game. Eugene used to torment everyone dreaming up foods and drinks we couldn't possibly make any time soon."

These light, occasional, teasing touches were all he'd offered since his return, and all he intended to offer until he sorted out his mind. Instead of perusing the seduction he rested his cheek against Jack's shoulder and smiled up at him, warm and lazy and pleased.

"Mmmhmm. And here? We might do both. Marvelous."

There were times when that warmth without escalation inspired a lifted eyebrow from Jack, an uncertain pause or moment of disquiet. But when Zevran was looking at him like that was never one of those times. That was the gaze that warmed him from the middle, slow and certain until laugher bubbled up around the edges of his voice as he leaned his head down, bumping his nose against Zev's playfully.

"And you didn't even have to wait for career killers to give it to you! Everyone's a winner."

"I must ask what it is you will be bringing to the table, Jack. Eugene and I will handle meals, Max will make certain that we will not be caught unawares by using his magic, I will be setting traps and locks and boltholes in the house as well as handling the decorating and remodeling of the bathroom. Are you are sexy serving boy?"

He looped his arms around Jack's waist proper, content with a brief cuddle.

"Entertainment, but yes. If you'd like to think of it that way, I shan't complain." Grinning, he settled into the embrace, wrapping his arms across Zev's and squeezing briefly. "Also, the oft-underappreciated unskilled labour. And I imagine you'll need my help when it comes time to put lighting into that fancy new bathroom of yours, never mind however you'd like things dimmed and mood-lit in here."

"I was thinking less of using the usual lighting and more of keeping it to braziers and maybe a lantern. Make a truly sensuous experience of it like they would in Antivan bathhouses." Warm and fragrant and ever so relaxing, he hummed to himself just thinking of it. He hadn't had the room to do so in his apartment, but here? It would be worthwhile.

"A bathhouse in miniature. That does sound fantastic." Jack shifted subtly to an imaginary music, rocking slowly hip to hip, a motion that skirted the hazy line between playfulness and flirtation. Even if Zevran had been strangely withdrawn in certain matters lately, that didn't change what a pleasure it was to feel him move, all lean and finely-tuned muscle. "Some sort of big, fancy tub too?"

"Mhmm. Somewhere warm and relaxing for all four of us after a hard day's work in the kitchen or wherever it is you do what you do and Max does what he does." It was intuitive for Zevran to follow, to move as Jack moves- instinct, almost. Second nature. Music and movement were as much his as blood and death.

"Oooh, yes. Something sunk into the tiles so you might simply step in- though there lies the question. Something large enough for just the one of us- or. Something large enough for three or four of us."

"At the risk of having my words twisted into something obscene, I think something large sounds much nicer." Chuckling under his breath, he relaxed in the slow pull and sway of the not-quite-dance, peering at Zev from the corner of his eye. It was a comfortable closeness, something he found himself craving inordinately after the near-miss following Zevran's return. It had been an unpleasant thing, realizing how easily they could simply not have him around anymore.

"You would." He cracked an easy laugh, content in the gradual, easy motion of whatever it was that Jack was leading him through. Not quite a proper dance, not quite rocking for comfort, somewhere comfortably in between.

"Perhaps a massage table as well, mm? Set into the wall."

March 14th, | Early afternoon

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