The boys are back in town, the boys are back in town... (RP, NC-17)

[smecker]

Paul's sprawled in the armchair, the good comfortable one, with a glass of Bordeaux in one hand and some Miles Davis soft on the speakers. Relaxing. Not that today had been especially stressful-- boring was more the word he'd use-- but it still felt good to be sitting down with nothing but a bit of hedonism to look forward to

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[anson_greene]

Anson checks his watch. Seven o'clock, precisely.

Not bad, Greene.Maybe teacher will give him extra credit for punctuality

[smecker]

Rap rap. Paul's eyes snap open and he looks at the clock. Minute hand's pointing dead vertical, how about that. Boy's on time.

Well, Paul's sure he can find other things to dock him for.

"Come in." Paul raises his glass for another sip as the door swings open; he'd intentionally left it unlocked for Anson's arrival. "And lock it behind you."

Paul watches through lazy eyes as Anson makes his entrance, his gaze roaming from head to toe, slowly, then reversing and going back up, blatant appreciation in his look. Mm, that shirt's a nice touch, and brand spankin' new by the look of it, by the tell-tale crispness that Paul's detail-oriented eyes catch.

Well, Anson's dressing to look like a good little boy. Isn't that cute.

Paul grins into his wineglass, then sets it down on the sidetable. "On time. I am impressed. A sign of your reformation?"

[anson_greene]

Anson obeys, stepping inside and locking the door behind him. He stands still for Paul's inspection, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes twinkling a bit as he meets Paul's gaze.

It's clear from Paul's expression that he likes what he sees.

He likes that, knowing Paul wants him. He stands there, letting him look his fill, savoring this little bit of power while it lasts. At Paul's wry question, he lowers his eyes and grins, looking up at him from under his lashes.

"Of course," he murmurs, then steps forward. "I brought you a little something." He holds the bottle of wine out to Paul, label facing out, naturellement. He looks into Paul's eyes and smiles.

"They were all out of apples."

[smecker]

One of Paul's eyebrows climbs up, interest piqued; he glances at the bottle, then makes an Mmmmm of approval. Decent vintage. Very well, that can be dessert. But for right now... his eyes flicker back to Anson.

"Were they?" he murmurs, eyes raking Anson's body once more. If Anson's enjoying knowing the effect he has, Paul is no less enjoying the opportunity to play hedonist, enjoying all pleasures offered, including the sight of a damn attractive man here for what promises to be an enjoyable evening on all sorts of levels.

"Then I guess I'll just have to find some other way to keep your mouth busy," he says, picking up the train of the thought where he'd left off, a smile twitching the corners of his lips. "Well. Come closer, that I may inspect your so-very-thoughtful gift more intently."