[ shame? what is that. Dean is rebounding from Yvonne and he is...Doing well. Obviously. Room littered with multiple bottles of potato (and rye) liquid and Zeppelin records and posters, call him well rounded and healthy.
And when Dean opens the door and is confronted with the ethereal beauty of a smarmy, sexy fairy, he can't help but smirk, lean on the doorframe, head cocked. ]
You think these bow legs can dance?
[ He's more apt to fall, honestly. And that wine looks...Well. Girly, but Rhys is a pretty fairy boy and Dean is a depressed horn dog, so here they are.
He holds up his bottle of shitty liquor, kicking his door open a little more. ]
This will make you question all of your life choices and regret every moment of your life. Tradesies?
( he teases, eyebrows lifting up his forehead in amusement. he goes through the graceful motions of trading one bottle for the other, and while their hands are each occupied by both, he leans forward to quickly dot a kiss on the corner of dean's mouth. it's as fleeting as rhys is, quickly skirting aside him with vodka now in tow, letting himself in to dean's room.
of course, rhys' own quarters look a little more like wandering curiosities shop, so he takes immediate interest in dean's. like a magnet, he moves to the led zeppelin shrine, nodding appreciatively. whilst understanding absolutely nothing. )
The man of the hour. ( like, really nothing. ) He's a Seraphim?
[ sjdhfas the kiss make shim blush furiously, color rising to his cheeks and neck, freckles standing out like constellations. It's so quick, and Rhys is flitting right around him maybe he doesn't see it.
Then again, Dean doesn't have the best luck.
His little shrine is his favorite thing about his room, the record player turned way down low, though no quarter spins gently, Jimmy Page's guitar riffs something for the ages, Robert Plant's vocal range drifting softly in the air.
It's one of Dean's favorites, though Ramble On takes that top spot, juuuust over Travelin' Riverside Blues. ]
You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he was. They totally redefined rock 'n roll. Total sex symbol.
( he hums, turning to dean while sucking his upper lip, nodding his head dramatically as if to say yes, of course, i do know exactly what we are talking about. )
Rock and roll, yes. ( swirling his free hand in the air, rhysand grabs two iridescent glasses from presumably absolutely nowhere, pinched between his fingers. rather expertly, he manages to undo the stopper in his vodka bottle and pours a splash into one of them, holding out the empty for dean's usage. ) Am I getting a very thorough education of music from your world?
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And when Dean opens the door and is confronted with the ethereal beauty of a smarmy, sexy fairy, he can't help but smirk, lean on the doorframe, head cocked. ]
You think these bow legs can dance?
[ He's more apt to fall, honestly. And that wine looks...Well. Girly, but Rhys is a pretty fairy boy and Dean is a depressed horn dog, so here they are.
He holds up his bottle of shitty liquor, kicking his door open a little more. ]
This will make you question all of your life choices and regret every moment of your life. Tradesies?
no subject
( he teases, eyebrows lifting up his forehead in amusement. he goes through the graceful motions of trading one bottle for the other, and while their hands are each occupied by both, he leans forward to quickly dot a kiss on the corner of dean's mouth. it's as fleeting as rhys is, quickly skirting aside him with vodka now in tow, letting himself in to dean's room.
of course, rhys' own quarters look a little more like wandering curiosities shop, so he takes immediate interest in dean's. like a magnet, he moves to the led zeppelin shrine, nodding appreciatively. whilst understanding absolutely nothing. )
The man of the hour. ( like, really nothing. ) He's a Seraphim?
u saw nothing
Then again, Dean doesn't have the best luck.
His little shrine is his favorite thing about his room, the record player turned way down low, though no quarter spins gently, Jimmy Page's guitar riffs something for the ages, Robert Plant's vocal range drifting softly in the air.
It's one of Dean's favorites, though Ramble On takes that top spot, juuuust over Travelin' Riverside Blues. ]
You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he was. They totally redefined rock 'n roll. Total sex symbol.
i pretend i do not see
( he hums, turning to dean while sucking his upper lip, nodding his head dramatically as if to say yes, of course, i do know exactly what we are talking about. )
Rock and roll, yes. ( swirling his free hand in the air, rhysand grabs two iridescent glasses from presumably absolutely nowhere, pinched between his fingers. rather expertly, he manages to undo the stopper in his vodka bottle and pours a splash into one of them, holding out the empty for dean's usage. ) Am I getting a very thorough education of music from your world?
no subject
He pulls in a breath, and takes the offered glass. Huh. Magical. ]
Um, yes. Sorry. It's my favorite, I tend to ramble on.
[ heh. hehehe. punny ]