webshooter | ( open rp )

[ Peter ducks his head again, nodding because he feels the same way. He was born here and lived here all his life and the city continues to surprise him. He takes another sip of his drink and gives another nod, ]

It is. I hope you get to see it.

[ He shrugs at the other question, ]

I've started doing photography. Not much, though. It's really expensive to get the film and develop it and all. I'm still saving up for my own camera. A friend is letting me use theirs right now.

[Frank props one arm on the table and tilts his head to be propped up on his fist. The conversation is normal as normal can be. It shouldn't make him this calm, this friendly but it is.]

One of these times.

[As though it is a deal now. Somehow. Between them.]

Do you take pictures of the views? Is that why you're up there?

[ Peter hopes he isn't boring the other guy. But he's still at the table, still talking to him... ]

Sometimes. I usually just take pictures of... moments I want to keep. Sometimes it's people or animals or fire escapes or birds or church steeples. Anything that catches my eye.

[Nope. Not bored. Just... getting a glimpse into how his mind works, what he likes. This is what he'd do with a gal he'd be interested in except it wouldn't go anywhere.]

That sounds like it'd be well worth the money to keep something like that forever.

[Worth the film, worth the camera.]

My hobbies are pretty cheap. I like to read. Maybe...I could go and find myself a book at your library.

[He feels daring, and reaches below the table to place his hand on Peter's knee. If his intentions weren't clear before... then there you go.]

[ He perks up more at hearing Frank likes to read, ]

Yeah? Me too! We got a lot--

[ He cuts off suddenly at the feel of the hand on his knee and feels his cheeks grow hot all over again. He licks his lips but he doesn't move away. He keeps talking. ]

We got all kinds of books. Anything you'd want to read, really.

I bet.

[And fuck now he's imagining them. Together. Not just here. And Peter isn't shoving away his touch, Frank keeps it light. Cautious. Massaging a little where there's points of contacts on his knee. This shouldn't get his blood pumping as much s it does.]

I think I know what I like...

[ He looks down at his drink, a small smile on his lips and cheeks flushed, ]

I hope you're not disappointed.

Why would I be?

[Frank keeps his touch gentle, and by all rights even though this is the first time he's truly touching Peter it's remarkably chaste.]

I don't know all that much about you, Peter. But I'd like to.

[He takes a drink for courage. There's a lot he'd like to do actually. Having a real moment with someone he's attracted to is just the start.]

You'd be the first to.

[ A beat, still looking down at his drink. ]

Everyone else would have left by now.

[ And for all his awkwardness and shyness, those rejections did hurt. ]

...you wanna share a few more firsts with me?

[He smiles and leans closer, his palm flat to the table as he is un-phased by any of the uncertainty or bashfulness that's trying to creep on in to what he can plainly see as interest. Why else would the guy have stayed? Frank hasn't clued in that maybe Mario put in a good word.

Closer, closer still. The intention should be clear because they're ending up face to face. Last chance to duck out.]

[ Peter looks up in time to place a hand on Frank's hand, gripping it tightly, ]

Not here.

[ He adds quickly, ]

Not in front of them. Please.

[ He knows they are all watching him and he doesn't want their teasing to ruin this, whatever happens. ]

[The whole damn world stops. Frank swallows and pulls back a bit, gulping.]

Oh.

[He literally stopped paying attention to the whole bar around them. And they are sure as hell being watched. A glance around and plenty of very guilty straying eyes proves that.]

Sure.

[Their hands together still evokes something sweet. Frank gives him a squeeze.]

Can I walk you home?

[ Peter squeezes again in return, swallowing hard himself before deciding something he's never done before. ]

Can we...go back to your place?

[Just when he thought that the curtain was going to fall, act two starts. Frank nods, grinning before he can say the word yes.]

Sure. Nothin' special. I do have a radio though.

[Big fucking whoop.]

Ready to go?

[He's not standing yet, just enjoying this moment. How it feels to be wanted. How it is a surprise and a dare. Everyone else around these parts would have never ever guessed the wall flower would spring this.]

[ It's certainly a whoop to Peter. That meant they might be able to dance, after all. Maybe. In privacy. He liked that idea a lot better than doing it here, in front of other people and in such a cramped space.

Plus, he wanted a chance to get to know Frank better. This really did seem like a good way to do it. He gives a nod but then tries to swallow down more of his drink just because he doesn't want to waste it and then gives a: ]

Yeah. Let's go.

[Frank isn't sure what they will be doing. And in all honesty, he's just glad for the company and the chance. They might just talk. Anything more would be icing on a very, very sweet cake.]

Sure.

[One last drink for himself too and he stands. Can he offer his hand? Should he? It's an instinct that he follows. He'd do it on a date with a girl. Doing it now is just...right. There's a thin, appreciative whistle from the dreaded audience. Frank doesn't even turn his head. He just smiles at Peter.]

C'mon.

[ It's so... unexpected and even charming that not even the commentary from those around him can ruin the moment. He takes the offered hand and gets up, keeping his eyes on Frank.

He really only does have eyes for him. No one else matters.

Once they are outside, he lets out a breath, almost laughing, grinning wide and relieved. He squeezes Frank's hand, ]

Thank you. For understanding.

[His hands are smaller, still strong and Frank is appreciative of the contact right up until they're on the street. It's late. Not too late, but late enough for there to not be so many people. This is still New York. It's still not a city that sleeps. One long, urgent squeeze and he relaxes his fingers, lingering until the last second.

Peter understands.]

Thank you.

[To sum it all up in words so far is not possible.]

Not too far away. Don't be expecting any Ritz.

[Frank jokes only because he's got no real clue of where Peter came from. Might as well be heaven as far as he's concerned.]

[ There's a longing for more but he does understand. He knows very well why they can't continue to hold hands and he settles for crossing his arms in front of himself, taking his place beside Frank as they walk. ]

I've never been in one so I wouldn't know what to expect.

[ He's never been poor but not "well off" either. His aunt and uncle always provided enough to get by and sometimes a little extra. He was always grateful for what they had. Anything more than that was considered "aiming high". ]

Do you live alone?

[ He probably should've asked that earlier. ]

[They keep on strolling. Frank feels like he's walking on a cloud. There is a group coming there way, he walks behind Peter and reaches out to place an arm around him to pull him out of the way. It's an excuse to touch him again.]

...me neither.

[Living in the city and getting a job in construction is the Castle version of aiming high.]

I do.

[ Peter averts his eyes as he's pulled to the side and finds himself savoring the touch, however fleeting. Once the group passes, he leans back against Frank. Just for a moment. Before he's stepping away and off to the side again. ]

I think the fanciest place I've been was the museum. And one of those fancy restaurants that makes you wear a tie but that was a while back.

[Closeness is what he wanted in the bar. A tiny little taste now and Frank knows that going somewhere else is the best decision. Letting Peter go is getting progressively harder each time.]

A museum? Huh. I think church and a wedding is about it. I only have one monkey suit.

[Tonight he's just dressed well enough, not too dressy. Just right for a night out.]

What kind of food do they serve at a place that makes you wear a tie? Was it worth it?

[ Peter laughs and shakes his head, ]

Nope. Not for the prices they charged versus what little they put on your plate. Didn't even taste that good, either. Better to stick to burger joints. The pizza is pretty good here, too.

[ Though he realizes a bit late Frank might not think so. Peter's no Italian, after all. Nor does he come from them. ]

At least I think so. I'm no expert.

That's a crying shame there. All that money and effort. That should be a goddamn feast.

[Frank laughs and shakes his head. Americans and their pizza. That's what his mother would always say. He gives a noncommittal shrug.]

You need somebody to show you real Italian.

[Not tonight. That'd require some planning. His steps slow and he gently reaches to pull at Peter's elbow to a big, brick building.]

I'm a ways up.

[ Peter joins him in laughing, his show scruffing the sidewalk in an almost bashful sort of way. ]

I wouldn't mind you showing me.

[ But he stops long enough to look up at the building and then nods, going inside. ]

Edited 2017-10-24 04:37 (UTC)

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