Log: Aubrey R/Louis D
[How much of Aubrey’s own damn indignation was meted out, that was the only question answered for any reason on this day. Not that he was questioning what any of it meant, and not that he was feeling things that came into play when he was more or less guaranteed a good lay - and more or less compatible with the whole good-feelings scenario that Louis had presented. None of the above. But most of it had a whole lot to do with his own shit, because how weird would that be? Whatever it was about his ex-whatever? Sure, okay. Good feelings bar none.
But Louis was kind of smart-assed about it, and Aubrey liked that. Aubrey was doing okay, just in general, and technically he hadn’t been laid since his arrival in Repose. (Sure, there had been that thing with Lin, but - really, that hadn’t meant too much of anything.) Aubrey knew people here, and he knew enough on his own besides that. He wasn’t aiming for smarmy know-it-all-ness, and didn't mean much besides when he angled his way towards the apartment over the antique shop dressed in a dark green henley and expensive jeans. Rapping knuckles in a knock, etc.
Maybe not so much with the naked horseback riding like Lady Godiva, but still smiling about the thought. Aubrey took it upon himself to assume that his own appeal was acknowledged by the other, even if he figured that it might have something to do with being used. But, like he’d said: he wasn’t so upset about the idea. He was even mostly sober, with just enough scotch swallowed down to deal with the suggestion of such.
And then just after he’d knocked on the door, Aubrey shot off a good-measure text to Louis to say that he was outside.]