Who: Dietre, Carr, Itzal, Mia. When: June 3rd. Afternoon. Vacation Day Where: Outside the Blocks, then Victorian London or bust! What: D's hard on for the Victorian era gets stroked. Warnings: Eh...No idea. PG 13 for now?
Training sessions were getting a little easier. He knew what to expect from Carr fairly well now, and what was expected from himself as well. The period in which he fumbled about when they first began, distracted and flustered, had become shorter, though that wasn't to say Dietre was any less head over heels for the older man, he was just able to control himself a little better. Or so he liked to think. It was the sleep that helped, he was sure. Having the sense of security that only a wolf in the bed next to you could give allowed Dietre to conk out with ease these days. It was comforting to just lay around and stroke the animal's fur before dozing off. Granted the animal was actually a man, but D liked to pretend he could forget. It was less...complicating that way.
Their session was over for the day, showers were had and now the afternoon was free. They were heading towards the blocks, passing other mutants who were trying to make use of their own 'free' time. Normally the two ended up napping, but Dietre had a larger energy reserve than he had before. He was considering reading a bit, he was in the middle of The Picture of Dorian Gray, slogging through the bits that had nothing to do with the plot. Ramblings about tapestry and Lord Henry's theories and whatnot. It made him think about his father's antique collection. Dietre wondered what had happened to it, did some one in the company take everything? Was it sold off at auction? He shook his head, running fingers through his still shower damp hair before peering over at Carr as they walked, side by side.
"..Did I do well today?" Dietre always felt foolish when he asked that, but never could help himself. He needed the reassurance, needed them to act as speed bumps and road blocks to keep his mind from speeding away on some paranoid, self loathing tangent. And, well, hearing Carr compliment him in anyway was one of his life's few pleasures.