Z. Luc Haust // Apollōn (radiantdelphi) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-09-26 19:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | apollo, pahana |
i wanna do right by you..
Who: Luc and Joaquin.
What: First look at the commissions.
Where: Apartment D1 and 505. Mostly 505.
When: Sometime on Monday, September 12, 2011.
Warnings: lol. Awkwaaaard.
Notes: First time these two have been alone in each other's presence in the past month after this.. ohman. :X And, completed! :D
Luc couldn't lie, he had sort of been dreading whenever he had to collect on his commissioned works from Joaquin. Of course, it helped that Joaquin hadn't been too bothered to keep him updated on how things were going (Luc would have found a way to manage it if he had, but he was grateful he didn't have to), and also that Luc had been busy himself with work - so that even if Joaquin had called, he probably would have been too busy (legitimately) to find time. Especially now with Harvey cutting back on a lot of his usual duties as far as directing flow of calls and the like in order to work more on his new business endeavors. Luc couldn't really be mad at his friend (and he did consider Harvey to be a friend, not just an employee) for wanting to move forward with his career, but it was rather inconvenient at times. More often than it wasn't, truthfully - but, like always, Luc found a way to deal.
But, of course, when he finally did get that text from Joaquin, it was on the one day in the past month that he seriously had nothing scheduled. All day. The rest of the week? Packed solid, including a day in Dallas.
He debated on ignoring the text under the claim of being busy. Yeah, busy avoiding you. He tossed that idea away as his gaze flitted over his bedroom door as it was panning over his surroundings - and he knew that, with how he was still waiting on finalizing a lot of his bedroom redecoration decisions until he saw the paintings, he couldn't really put it off. If he didn't address it today, it probably wasn't going to get to it until late next week. The thought of having to stay in the disaster zone that was his bedroom right now, mid-redecoration.. well, it set his fingers to typing a response to Joaquin before he could even talk himself out of it.
I'll be down to check them out in half an hour or so, just let me finish up here.
He didn't stop long enough to let himself think, setting his phone down so he could take a shower and dress himself - light t-shirt, khaki shorts, brown sandals, easy enough. His hair was a clean mess, only a little bit towel-dried - though, with how he'd only taken ten minutes to shower and get ready, he was debating on blow-drying it. Even if that was more than slightly ridiculous, even to Luc. He was feeling more than a little ridiculous right now, however..
He settled on shaving, being more careful than usual (blaming it on the new razor he employed, but knowing fully well it was just to kill time) as he handled the task. He managed to drag that out to fifteen minutes, and it still wasn't enough.
But, he knew he still needed a drink before setting off down this road of potential disaster. For real.
Luc made his way to the bar, pouring himself a heavy helping of his usual. He was unable to resist eyeing the time on his BlackBerry as he swirled the drink in his glass, turning over what he remembered of Vegas over in his mind a few times.
The thought of Joaquin's body beneath his own made him gulp the scotch down in one, and even Luc Haust had to wince at the burn that took over his nostrils when he exhaled.
Luc would still maintain he didn't remember the details - he'd decided that the day after it happened, and nothing was changing his mind on that one. Christ, he hadn't even had time to think about anything since he'd gotten back to California, let alone what the fuck he'd been thinking when that whole night's debauchery had happened.. and until Luc could actually stop and think about things, he was going to let it lie.. by perhaps telling a few little white lies.
In his defense, however, there was a lot of things that were still fuzzy to Luc - so he could tell himself it wasn't a total lie (except that it was, considering how he'd put some of the less fuzzy recollections to, well, good use - more than once or twice). He had been dangerously drunk - moreso than even Joaquin probably realized, as he'd managed to keep from puking until after they'd gone to their respective rooms of the suite.
"All right," Luc said to himself, helping himself to another shot to settle his jangling nerves. He traded his empty glass for the keys he'd set on the bar, and made sure to grab his checkbook and wallet before heading out the door to the elevator. He fidgeted with his phone the whole way down, shooting off a couple responses to a few people for work to keep his hands busy. The DING when it came to the fifth floor seemed more ominous.
No matter how slow he tried to walk, his long legs ate the distance between the elevator and Joaquin's door - and he was there faster than he'd ever wanted to be.
There was this one part of him still leftover from things that never got, ahem, finished in Vegas.. but Luc was quick to dismiss it, shaking his head and letting out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding - and knocked.