log: louis and ren
"Generations of them," Ren promised, tantalizingly. Some might even be true although there was no way that he could say for certain. They had been told, or not told - sometimes just discovered between the lines of what had been hidden from him - and so the facts might not be accurate, although he suspected there was truth even without that. And tonight was a space for another story, maybe, one that he was only just beginning to write, and one that he still was not certain what it should be. But Louis was attractive, and the drop of an accent made Ren want to lean forward and kiss him again, to let their tongues dance, but he resisted hoping that doing so now, would only increase the delight when he gave in to the desire later. This seemed right, despite the absolute spontaneity that had accompanied his invitation, and now that Louis was here it felt more right.
He stepped back from the door and led Louis towards the staircase. There would be glasses in the study upstairs that they could pick up on the way to the balcony off the bedroom. It was perhaps bolder than he ought to be, but he felt bold. He wanted to write a story, whatever it would be although he couldn't say why. Perhaps it was settling into this place for several months, and knowing the possibility of things more than he had when he came, or the spring that was beginning to show signs of being truly there, or maybe just questions he wanted answered.
"It does hold wine glasses," he told him as he stopped him outside the study door. "Wait here, and I'll grab some."
It took only a moment, and he was back again, leading to the bedroom he'd been in earlier. That door was open, so he walked through it, not glancing at the room itself as he headed towards the open balcony doors. "I rather hoped you'd say the balcony," he told Louis, glancing back at him finally. "It's got the best view by far." His eyes dropped to the wine, and he raised the two glasses in his fingers. "What do you bring?"