09-22-2016, 04:06 PM
Dane hands were warm, nestled beneath a blanket of hair, as he curled his fingers up and down the bony knots of a spine, then pinching the slender muscle of a shoulder, cupping the soft flesh of an ear lobe. His mouth was distastefully wet. A sickening haze of perfume clogged his nostrils, threatening to reach into his throat and choke him to death from inside out. Music blared loud in his ears, a pounding he was certain would never cease echoed inside his skull. His head was going to ache tomorrow, he would need Advil before the night was over. Or perhaps a larger glass of wine. Maybe both. Yes, both.
"There are plenty of rooms. No one wants to watch. Shoo."
He peeled his lips away with a quiet smacking sound at the sudden parting. The waif of a girl in his arms scoffed, and cursed as she jumped to her feet in hasty, albeit drunken, departure. Dane's gaze lingered as he watched her leave. She was skeletal in her size, almost like a child in his arms, with a mass of black hair and bright green eyes that glowed in the galactic lighting of the party.
He was slower to stand, but when he did, he dipped his head in apologetic bow for their host. He noted the bright red suit of the man that confiscated his sofa. It was sinfully ugly and nigh abhorrent. Of course he made sure his smile widened at the thought. Methos was asking, begging for a red suit? Dane could give him a better one.
"Pardon us, sir."
Dane smoothed the wrinkles of his slacks, and adjusted the way his cashmere sweater sat on his shoulders. His partner had been rather animated. Dane exuded a smart, sophisticated style, and within a moment of rearranging, was once more the gentlemen of a great and ancient family.
Eventually, he followed after his prize, but it seemed she was lost to him.
"There are plenty of rooms. No one wants to watch. Shoo."
He peeled his lips away with a quiet smacking sound at the sudden parting. The waif of a girl in his arms scoffed, and cursed as she jumped to her feet in hasty, albeit drunken, departure. Dane's gaze lingered as he watched her leave. She was skeletal in her size, almost like a child in his arms, with a mass of black hair and bright green eyes that glowed in the galactic lighting of the party.
He was slower to stand, but when he did, he dipped his head in apologetic bow for their host. He noted the bright red suit of the man that confiscated his sofa. It was sinfully ugly and nigh abhorrent. Of course he made sure his smile widened at the thought. Methos was asking, begging for a red suit? Dane could give him a better one.
"Pardon us, sir."
Dane smoothed the wrinkles of his slacks, and adjusted the way his cashmere sweater sat on his shoulders. His partner had been rather animated. Dane exuded a smart, sophisticated style, and within a moment of rearranging, was once more the gentlemen of a great and ancient family.
Eventually, he followed after his prize, but it seemed she was lost to him.