Re: Elevator
He looked up sharply at him before turning his face away. Heat flushed into his face, and he was pale enough now for it to be evident - thank god for the reddish light. "I said not to look," he said, voice terse, syllables clipped short.
Varian had, for a variety of reasons, been treated like a freak for most of his life. When he was young, it was because his genitalia didn't fit neatly into any comfortable category. As he grew older, the type of teasing changed, but the target remained the same. Now, a rock star and something of an icon in his own right, he was still a freak to a majority of the public, though another contingent loved him for the very thing that left him rejected by everyone else. And then there was this - just one more thing to make him feel freakish, Tristan's staring on him like he was some kind of bizarre abomination.
"So you want to fuck Azrael, I guess," he said, a statement, not a question. His tone was hard, his expression harder. The face was Azrael's, and the voice. Even his build under the suit fit the profile, but the expression was all Varian, sharp as a knife.