Re: [Treatment Facility: Dami & Misha]
"Like... chess?" That was one, was it not? Did it count? It had a board and it was a game. It should count. "Checkers. Ancient Egyptians played Senet and Mehen." Damian felt knowledgeable, which he enjoyed, but he decided this was enough on the topic. "We could go through there, yes? Have a short stay in Kentucky on our way elsewhere. If you have been thinking upon it, we ought go. If it does not sate you, it will, if nothing else, combat nostalgia, and perhaps this will be helpful." This seemed logical to Damian, who was glad to have logic once more. "You may have my pillow as well," he offered, as he was giving, petting blond hair in its finery as Misha sniffed his shoulder. It would not be difficult to obtain another pillow.—Fingers withdrew from hair, so Damian might hand over the card. "It is for a car."
As Misha nipped his fingers, once they were hooked over lip and teeth, Damian only nearly giggled. It did not manifest, so no one get too excited. It was, instead, a sort of laugh. "Yes, I can show you." And he sounded as if he meant this. Until Misha said he wished only for him, Damian, to miss the things he missed, which he took to mean they could not do anything, not until he was released. He sat back upon Misha's thighs, but too close to the boy's belly, to see if he could feel if Misha was yet hard. He let his chin be tipped up, and he gave a huff of breath through his nose when Misha said he missed fucking him. Damian's expression was petulant, at being given graphic details he was supposed to pretend did not affect him. "But, Misha." Damian glanced about, then, without elaborating upon what he had started saying, stood.—His feet to concrete were slightly unsteady, but only because of recent weakness, and he paid it even less mind than he paid the knitting bag as he took Misha's hand to pull him up.
He said nothing further, unless asked, and, instead, led the boy away from the pool and back inside the overlarge farm house. His suite was on the west-side of the building, which was where he headed, towing Misha behind him, if he was able. The room itself was not particularly memorable, but that did not matter. He pulled Misha inside, beside checked blue and white bed, and closed the door. (There was no lock upon it, but that was fine.) With this done, Damian released the boy to fetch up a pillow from the bed. "Here." As if this was what the fuss was about. And he offered it to Misha without extending his hand, so the boy had to come closer to retrieve it. But, if and when Misha attempted this, Damian pulled it back, put it behind him, and sat upon it.