savetheearth | {005} Network Video + Log

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{005} Network Video + Log

[Misa is obviously freaking out a little. He eyes are wide, she's breathing fast, and she is newly blonde since she last appeared on the network. But her latest echoed change isn't anything that's visible.]

The lights over Tokyo— something is happening, I'm going home. If anyone is coming and needs a place to stay, my apartment is open to you. It's not very big, but I'll make room for anyone who needs it. Bring a sleeping bag or air mattress if you can. Private message me for the address, and if you have a doppelganger either do it in person or by phone. I don't want any uninvited guests showing up.

[[ooc: feel free to handwave Misa giving your character this information, as long as they are not a doppelganger and we have some previous CR.]]

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Who: Misa and ALL THE PEOPLE
What: Crash at Misa's one-bedroom apartment during insanity in Tokyo. SLUMBER PARTY. There will be separate header threads for different weeks, plop your person anywhere.
When: April 10-28
Where: Tokyo, Misa's place

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

People would treat Lazarus differently. Cesar nods, not inclined to elaborate: how could he explain to L the impression that he usually gave without it being hurtful? The hungry, rail-thin frame, those lizard-like eyes, the clothes that contrasted to show how little sun he really saw... It's a far cry from Cesar's height of rebellion, which involved sweatpants and flip flops with socks.

{She made good choices,} he says simply.

Lazarus tugs the loop over his head, and Cesar follows it, before smiling self-deprecatingly. He sure just caught himself wishing he'd been the one to take that off of him, hadn't he?

What the hell, it's not like there's anyone else here. He steps closer, holding a hand forward for the tie.

Whether or not L is aware of how he tends to come off, Cesar's probably wise not to go on about it. When he confirms that Misa did well, the glimmer of a smile lights up his face, and he hands over the tie.

"I know you're busy, but... we're alone right now, aren't we? I'm going to change, and if you wanted to come lie down with me I wouldn't complain."

Cesar considers it, tilts his head, nods, and smiles. Jet-lag is a miserable thing, and it's not unusual at all to walk in and find people napping in the main room at any time of day.

Not that Cesar thinks L hopes to simply leave it at sleeping, but this isn't L's doppelganger. It's unlikely that they're going to get carried away in a place as new as this, and Cesar wouldn't mind something in this brief window of calm.

He unties the tie as he steps back again, coiling neatly it around one hand.

With so many people in, out and crashing hard at regular intervals, there really is a lot of napping, and the suggestion isn't completely out of nowhere... but Cesar isn't wrong to pick up on a playful ulterior motive. Both of them are fairly discreet as these things go, and while they have some very creative and fun ways to relieve stress at their disposal, they would rather not engage that way with others present if they can help it.

The apartment being empty, however, handily solves that problem for them, and L brought a double-wide mattress in a show of discreet but unmistakable foresight.

"Great. I was hoping you'd be willing," he replies fondly. "I think we can be relatively quick and clean about it, don't you?" He slips out of his blazer and drapes it across the back of a nearby chair, slipping out of his polished black shoes immediately afterward. It's normal for entering an apartment, but the context says clearly that he's beginning to undress and fully intends to take it further.

Cesar picks up the blazer and takes it to a coat hanger he saw earlier, noticing it for its odd location. The shoes can stay where they already are, and Cesar takes his time hanging the tie neatly by the blazer. Not that he and Lazarus haven't seen each other at all stages of undress by now, but there's not really any point in waiting like a dog by the dinner table, is there?

The air mattress takes up a significant portion of the room. Only one side shows signs of use so far, and Cesar walks to the other side, sitting down.

Hm. He's never used an air mattress before: he bounces once or twice, grinning.

Lazarus is perfectly capable of hanging up his own clothes, and intended to go back for his blazer once he'd unwound a little bit in the cramped comfort of Misa's Tokyo apartment. That being said, he finds that he appreciates the domestic thoughtfulness Cesar's displaying in taking care of his belongings in such a way, tending to his jacket before his body heat has started to fade from the cloth it's composed of.

Slipping into something more comfortable turns out to be stripping down to short-sleeved white undershirt and a pair of checked black and grey boxer shorts. He tucks his socks into a ball and tosses them into his open suitcase, steps light as his joins Cesar.

"It's surprisingly comfortable for what it is. I've slept well during my stay with Misa," he says. "Even with other people around. Not like I've never had a roommate before, or anything, but... I do usually sleep alone."

{It's nice.}

Cesar could talk about the roommates he's had before, but that might lead him into talking about one of his previous girlfriends, and he's not really in the mood to go down those roads right now.

{How much longer are you expecting to stay?}

"What's nice? The mattress, or sleeping alone?" he jokes, lying back and staring at the ceiling. All in all, he seems tired, but relaxed and content enough to stretch out rather than curl in on himself as he usually does when he settles down for more than a hot second.

"With any luck, not too much longer. There are some things to sort through with Parliament, still, but... I'm thinking a resolution's in sight. Perhaps a week, at most... what about you?"

He breaths lightly through his nose, not quite snorting. He sees the joke for what it is, even if he doesn't continue it.

{Only a day or two.} It's easier to 'speak' if he's still sitting. Not that he can't scoot closer while he does; his feet come up onto the mattress, and he slouches, resting his elbows on his knees when he's not signing.

{There's too much going on to be more thorough than that, and I can only telework so much. Luckily most of this just consists of taking pictures...}

The shift in weight is impossible to ignore, and L turns on his side in response to it, facing Cesar and peering up at him.

"So what you're telling me is that, at present, you've done what you can in that capacity and your attention is available to be refocused elsewhere?"

A smile spreads slowly across his face.

{That depends,} he teases. {Do you have any suggestions for to direct it next?}

If the way his gaze lingers obviously on Lazarus' lips is anything to go by, Cesar has quite a few. They're alone, and they need the break, don't they? Things might still be healing between them, but this sort of thing can only help. Right?

It's impossible not to return that smile. L is no virtuoso at discerning when Cesar's smiles are wholly genuine as opposed to frost-touched and distant, but he responds faster and more eagerly now when they share qualities similar to the one he's just witnessed.

"A few..." he says mock-vaguely, relieved that spelling it out doesn't seem necessary. He props himself up on his elbow, leaning down to press his lips against Cesar's, moving closer so as to get the angle just-so.

Edited 2015-05-04 18:41 (UTC)

The kiss is sweet and unrushed. Cesar cups the side of Lazarus' face, helping them find that angle more easily, and then brushes his hair back from is face. Is this what life is like for them, now? Stealing moments with each other while everything else gets more and more hectic?

He's not going to argue if it is. The wounds their doppelgangers left behind are still fresh and recent, but ignoring it seems to be doing the trick. There's no difference between a temporary peace if it goes on forever.

For all the scars and sore spots left by their Cesar's doppelganger, and the ache he still feels when he dwells on those weeks, he learned things from those experiences that he has recognized the value in retaining rather than pushing from his mind to be quickly forgotten. He knows how to take the process of lovemaking slowly and bidingly, focusing on details and little soft reminders of affection rather than solely on what's swift and violent and gratifying. He's able to put aside his anxiety, and he knows what acts and sensations are likely to elicit the best responses. Lazarus has always been a quick study, especially when he's a highly motivated learner.

He nuzzles his cheek against the palm of Cesar's hand, turning his slender body so he can climb on top of the other man. It's easier for his smaller body to straddle him, and things might change before this is over depending on what they're ultimately in the mood for, but for now, their two tired bodies seem to be well-suited to close, gentle kisses chest-to-chest.

Misa's sleep schedule has been thrown out of whack, with so much going on during the day and people coming in and out of her apartment at all hours. She has taken to snatching naps when she can rather than getting a good night's sleep, and she doesn't know quite what time it is when she wakes up but her guess is sometime in the evening. The house is blessedly quiet. Maybe people have actually cleared out for a bit? Does that mean she's out of food?

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Misa makes a cursory attempt to brush out her hair and get dressed before peeking out of her bedroom. She heard what sounded like murmuring voices; on the off chance her ears aren't playing tricks on her, better to go out with the assumption that she does not have the apartment to herself.

Opening the door fully, she steps out into the living room, about ask if anyone is there— the words stick in her throat. There is Lazarus. Straddling Cesar. On his air mattress. Making out.

Misa stares, brain too busy short-circuiting to dictate anything else for her to do or say.

Cesar is perfectly happy with this shift in position, and he tangles his fingers in Lazarus' hair, pulling him closer. He pushes himself up on one elbow to deepen the kiss, and his kisses have always been a little more overtly hungry since their time apart, so it's nothing he thinks much of. He slides a hand down the back of L's pants, squeezing--

--It's a shift in the air in the room, a change in the way the fridge's hum fills the background. His eyes fly open and he tilts his head just enough to see around L's head, and then he's jolting as though shocked. He breaks the kiss. The hand slides right back out of L's pants. He starts to sit, wiping a bit of saliva on the back of a hand.

How long was she standing there, and how embarrassed should they be? It was a bit more than
just being caught kissing, but it's not as though they're errant teenagers. How will Misa react?

It's an easy thing to get caught up in. His entire body is responding to the engagement, anticipation and experience replacing what was once novice sensitivity. He knows what to expect now, which makes him confident instead of clumsy, and his own hands are straying to Cesar's fly, fingers busying themselves with the closures there, and it isn't until Cesar's breaking the current heavy kiss that he glances up, first at Cesar, then following his deer-in-the-headlights gaze to the stunned Misa.

He really has no idea what the etiquette is for this situation.

"Could you go... I mean, would you like to join... I mean hi Misa," he rattles off disjointedly, sitting up himself before realizing that he's really much, much better off lying on his stomach on top of Cesar, a position he returns to hastily even if it abruptly truncates Cesar's attempt to sit up. The boxers he's wearing provide little in the way of coverage, especially given his current state.

Misa continues staring at them, equally like a deer caught in the headlights despite her being the one that caught them in a compromised position. Her eyes stray downward and then up again, taking in details she doesn't want to notice but can't really help seeing. Every fiber of her being is screaming at her to turn and run or at least look away, but it's like time has stopped in the room and they are all trapped in this uncomfortable moment for eternity.

Lazarus saying terribly awkward things is at least a return to normality, despite the situation at hand. Misa has a precedent for reacting to him saying the worst things, and she clings to that familiarity in the face of so much that is unfamiliar. Such as presumed straight virgin Lazarus very obviously about to have sex with a man in her living room. She has no idea if the offer to join means this isn't anything serious, or if he is just rattling off every terrible thought that goes through his head at once. She also has no idea which option is preferable. But judging by Cesar's expression, the offer was not mutually agreed upon.

Misa opens her mouth to say something... then closes it. Her face cycles through several different expressions: incredulous, embarrassed, looking like she is about to cry. She abruptly turns on her heel and flees back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Cesar tries to sit up, but Lazarus drops back against him, saying things that have his face turning red and his eyes darting in undisguised panic. He lifts his hands as though to sign, but there's no signs that could save this conversation, and L's weight has him sinking right back to his elbows anyway. It's just as well; Lazarus wasn't the only one with things to hide. If Cesar could get the ground to swallow all of him right now, he would.

It's too late for that. Their hostess' eyes fill with tears, and the door slams behind her. One final piece clicks in with the rest of the picture, and Cesar realizes that it's worse than it looked.

He pushes Lazarus off, sitting up quickly and rubbing his face. Well, that just became a disaster. What were they going to do now? Could they fix this? He turns to Lazarus and quickly signs, {One of us needs to apologize to her. As soon as we're dressed.} 'And presentable' goes unsaid.

There are complicated things happening with Misa's expression, and the bulk of it is beyond Lazarus. He' still figuring out Muppet faces to a large degree, after all, and such nuances are far more advanced and difficult. As she races from the scene, he looks to Cesar for some help in that regard. He curls and stiffens like a stunned spider as Cesar pushes him away and rubs frustratedly at his burning face. His eyes are riveted to the signs as soon as they start forming out of desperation more than anything else; it's more than uncomfortable to be in a situation where emotions are going haywire faster than they can be read and understood, it's terrifying.

"Apologize?" he asks uncertainly. "For... being interrupted pre-coitus? You're sure that's...?"

From his point of view, they've done nothing wrong; the air mattress is his own, along with the consenting adult relationship. If a piece has clicked into place for Cesar regarding Misa's feelings toward one or both of them, Lazarus seems oblivious.

"I'll finish you first," he offers, clearly intending to pick up where they left off and out of courtesy to Misa, be quick about it. Unfortunately, he also seems oblivious to how tonedeaf, strange, and inappropriate such a gesture has become.

Cesar throws his hands up between them before Lazarus can get very close at all, hunching a little. Not that he expects Lazarus to try to reach him through the gestures, but he's so aghast at the thought of finishing now that the gesture is automatic.

{No!} The sign is several times larger than it needs to be. It might seem like he's 'shouting', honestly, even if that's not quite his intent. {This isn't the time for that! We've already been insensitive enough. Please get dressed.} Lazarus clearly has all the tact of a dried up cactus. Maybe Cesar could slip a note under her door and knock...?

Obliviousness can carry a person quite a long way before it shrivels into comprehension, and Cesar's gestures of rejection and denial are plenty to shatter its gentle cocoon. He's vaguely hurt by it, even as he grudgingly understands why maybe it's not normal to remain in a state of prepared arousal when there's a crying girl just a room over, and he braces as if Cesar has shouted.

"Sorry, I just thought..."

Insensitive.

He nods briskly, raising himself quickly and pulling on clothes from his suitcase that are more fitting for his usual aesthetic. Black, tattered in places, with the occasional edge or detail that would hurt to touch. Whether because he's embarrassed or hurt, he keeps his back to Cesar as he clothes himself.

Cesar watches Lazarus from the corner of his eye, eventually looking forward. It's not quite for privacy, because they're somewhat beyond nakedness at this point. Perhaps it's guilt? Lazarus' gesture has shut Cesar out, and even if he were trying to get his attention he wouldn't be able to. Cesar replays the last minute in is head. What should he do?

Would Lazarus' doppelganger have been this oblivious? It's a question he cuts off immediately, expression darkening. Maybe he wouldn't have, but that doesn't mean he would've stopped this from happening. If anything, it would've been worse.

He zips his pants back up while he waits. His hair gets set back to rights, and he stands, still trying to decide what to do.

{You should be the one to apologize. That would be ideal.} He's signing as soon as Lazarus turns, and his eyes drop to check their appearances. There's at least one important factor that could make any conversation with her only worse, after all. Do they need to wait a while?

Edited 2015-05-24 22:07 (UTC)

Lazarus' doppelganger's hypothetical handling of the situation is nightmarish. Not only would he have propositioned Misa, but he probably wouldn't have taken protests too seriously, and he might have intentionally made the situation more upsetting for everyone else involved and reveled in the result. Lazarus, to his credit, isn't like that, seems to genuinely feel bad. The difficult thing, though, is that there's a connection he's not making to the acts themselves and why Misa was upset by them.

He's finally dressed again in his spare, severe clothing, and even when he's finished it takes him long enough to turn back to Cesar. It's at an angle, not happening fully, and the signs seem not to improve his mood.

"Why would it be ideal?" he asks, bristling as though Cesar's unfairly laying all the blame for this on him, but it's reactionary and childish, and he recognizes and backtracks.

"Oh, of... course, because she doesn't sign and I speak Japanese well enough to communicate this in her native language."

It has expressly not occurred to him that there might be another reason for Misa's upset, but at any rate, the frosty tone of the last few minutes have at least killed the mood sufficiently to soothe and silence his arousal.

Edited 2015-05-26 03:03 (UTC)

{Not that. It's because it's you.}

Cesar looks at him for several seconds, before pinching the bridge of his nose. The hand drops quickly: Lazarus might take it the wrong way, and Cesar is realizing that letting him figure things out on his own not only won't help anything, but might not even happen.

He hopes he's right.

{L, has Misa ever been affectionate towards you?}

Maybe this will help him towards the discovery.

{005} Network Video + Log

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