doesitanyway | [ MEADOWLARK ] IC Inbox

[ Trevor tilts his head curiously when Ephemera leans closer, watches the other man trace the scarring over his knuckles. No one's ever touched him like that, with such care.

Slowly he nods, a thread of confusion in his emotions as well. His glass is resting on his leg, his focus now completely on Ephemera. ]

They don't hurt.

[ The empathy bond continues, a soft blue glow under their shirts. It feels warm. Trevor has strong hands. Callused, scarred. Much like his own. And though there's confusion, there isn't anger or revulsion.

Why not? Ephemera thinks. Why the fuck not?

He tips his head to the side. Smiles in a way he knows was charming, once. ]

I'm drunk. But that not drunk. You want to fuck?

[ Trevor blinks -- he didn't see that coming, somehow. It just didn't occur to him, but there's no revulsion at the proposition, either. Just sheer bewilderment, and then he laughs sharply. ]

I've never had anyone ask me that who didn't expect payment.

[ He does have to consider it. Not because he doesn't think he can, but because he wouldn't have much idea of what to do. He's never been the one in control of his encounters, and there's a lack of experience in this arena. ]

You might wind up disappointed.

[ Ephemera huffs a little. Squeezes Trevor's hand in his own. ]

I could say the same. It's been a long time for me.

[ But he likes how it feels to trace Trevor's scars with his fingers. And maybe that can be enough, to start. Something uncomplicated. ]

Do you want to, Trevor?

[ It isn't quite as simple as a yes or no answer for him, considering what they were just discussing. He has to consider if it would be detrimental to things. But also it's been forever and if he ignores the previous conversation? Sure. Why not? Ephemera feels fairly comfortable making the offer and in the end that's enough.

Trevor downs the rest of his glass and leans over to put it back on the table, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a grin. ]

I'd be willing to give it a try.

[ Once, not so long ago, the thought of touching another person with anything resembling intimacy would have floored him. Ephemera thinks he would have felt it like a wound, a physical pain he had no way of rightly contending with. And he thinks it would be different with Drake, or Ginia, with the weight of all the things they've shared bearing down on him. Harder, maybe. Trevor has seen his dreams, one of the worst things Ephemera ever did, but Trevor still came to see him in the aftermath. Pushed him to do better instead of wallowing in sorrow over what couldn't be changed.

Besides. He likes Trevor. Ephemera might be rusty, unused to being touched, but he knew how to make other people feel good once. He could do that again.

Ephemera smiles. Runs his fingers lightly over the back of Trevor's hand and then leans back. Stands up slowly, then offers out his hand again. ]

C'mere.

[ Ephemera stands and Trevor rolls his shoulders -- they're doing this, it seems. The loss of the empathy bond leaves him feeling a little empty but he knows it'll be back soon. Sooner, even, when Ephemera holds out his hand again.

Trevor stands and takes it, lets himself readjust. ]

Lead on.

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