Ren Waugh-Solo (behindthemask) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2017-07-19 21:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, eliot waugh, kylo ren / ben solo |
Who: Kylo Ren & Eliot Waugh
When: July 15 (backdated slightly)
Where: Margo's party.
What: Eliot is really good at making people jealous.
Rating: Teen for kissing.
Status: Complete.
It had been Pansy who had suggested they throw a party for Margo. This wasn't to mean that the thought hadn't crossed Eliot's mind but the truth was that he wasn't sure how to manage this type of festivity given his and Margo's current standing. They weren't hostile. In fact, most who saw them would consider them friendly. But there was a gap between them that Eliot hadn't been able to completely bridge yet. Every day that passed found it growing smaller but there was still a great distance to fix and time was the only way to do so. Still, he wasn't going to not celebrate Margo's birthday and he was quietly thankful that Pansy had taken up the initiative. And she'd approached him for help with her own private mission. He'd been told about the mission before the party. Perhaps, if he'd known about the two events in the opposite order, he'd not have agreed. The thing was that Eliot, typically, was all for spicing things up and he suspected that was what was happening between Pansy and Neal. This was a game for them and Eliot was playing a part to help out a friend. The thing was that he'd thought this was going to just be an evening where he and Pansy left the Cottage alone. He didn't think the others would be around to witness it. And he'd not have cared about everyone else in the cottage seeing, sans Kylo. That was where he felt a minor hiccup in this game he was playing for Pansy. He'd not wanted to pull back from the agreement, since he was a man of his word, but this didn't feel right, even as he sat with his arm tossed around Pansy's shoulders at the club. But he was pushing through. Turning his head so he could whisper into her ear, he offered to get them another drink, though he spoke this offer with a wicked smirk. When she nodded, he pressed his lips to her neck and laughed in unison with her when she laughed from the touch. Then he was up and snatching both empty glasses up to head to the bar. As soon as he was standing, his eyes searched for Kylo, whom he'd planned on spending some time with during this party as well. Only, playing Pansy's game made it a bit harder to keep up with where the man was presently. Kylo watched Eliot walk towards the bar from his place by the wall. He had been with Petunia earlier in the evening, but then he’d wandered away and found a quiet place where he could drink. Normally he wouldn’t spend his time at a party like this, even for a friend, and certainly not for someone that he still wasn’t certain he counted as a friend. Margo’s status with Eliot certainly impacted Ren’s opinion of her. And further, normally he wouldn’t have a glass of scotch in his hand, and having been drinking it at a rate that would make a non-Force sensitive individual thoroughly and completely drunk. He had gone largely because Eliot was going, which, admittedly, was a reason why Kylo kept doing many things. He’d lost track of the number of events he’d gone to because Eliot had invited him, or Eliot had said that he was going, thus encouraging Kylo to come out when normally he would have stayed home and been happy for being so anti-social. And so that was why he was here, and he couldn’t really say why he hadn’t left and returned to the cottage, because Eliot hadn’t spent any time with him, and moreover he’d been spending so much time with Pansy. Eliot was more social than Ren. (Understatement, really) He was friendlier, more likely to touch acquaintances, and certainly put people at ease more easily than Ren, and so all of this could have just been that. But it also felt like something more. Eliot had been super focused on Pansy, and really Kylo was probably being remarkably restrained given the thunderbolts that threatened each time Eliot had reached over and blessed Pansy with a touch. Kylo had no reason to suppose that Eliot should pay preferential attention to him. But it was becoming undeniably clear to him that it’s what he wanted and its lack was enough to make a party decidedly unpleasant. His dark eyes watched Eliot carefully as he approached, and he didn’t move from the wall, leaving the glass dangling in his hand near his thigh. This shouldn’t feel like a betrayal, probably. The question was whether to draw attention to himself, or to just let Eliot get a drink and see if he even noticed Kylo. But Kylo was sort of hurt enough to want Eliot to see that he was being a bit of an ass. “Let me guess, something frivolous for two," he remarked dryly, but loudly enough for Eliot to hear him. Eliot couldn't spot him and a slight frown began to take over his features. His eyes were still scanning the area as he stood in the line for the bar. Had Kylo left? He couldn't quite be certain. Usually, Eliot was far better at keeping tabs on his group in a setting such as this. He was always hyper aware of them, especially when alcohol was involved. Considering that perhaps Kylo was with one of the other cottage members, his gaze began to pivot around to look for the others. He suspected Petunia was off in a corner. This wasn't her scene nor was it Kylo's. He'd need to check on her, too. Quentin was still in his never ending depression so he was also a candidate for a corner. His attention was pulled, however, when he heard the voice. Kylo. Instantly his frown dissipated and the smile that was so frequently reserved for Kylo alone rose. His eyes shot to the man and he was still smiling, for those briefest of moments, before he took it all in. The words. The tone. The drink. His smile evaporated but he didn't scowl or frown. Not yet. Since when did Kylo think his taste in alcohol was frivolous? He pushed aside his own question, and ignored the possible warning signs, when he finally spoke. "There you are!" He had been looking for him, after all. "It could be three. You want something? Or are you good still?" He glanced to the tumbler by Kylo's thigh but then back to meet Kylo's gaze. Kylo met the gaze, even though he felt like dropping it. Obviously Eliot didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with this picture at all, even though everything about it felt wrong to Kylo. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to Eliot finding other people to spend time with at parties, but he'd never felt quite so abandoned, nor had he ever felt that Eliot was quite so attentive to everyone else. Or, well, in this case any one person specifically. Had Kylo missed something? Pansy was fairly new, but he hadn't really thought that she and Eliot had connected, and perhaps that was also surprising him. Which, maybe it wasn't what he thought it was? But it certainly seemed like that. "I'm fine," he stated. He still had scotch, and he'd probably already had more than he should have had. He glanced down at the cup, and reminded of it, went ahead and lifted it to his lips to take another swig. "Just get your two. You don't want to leave the lady waiting after all," and the words came out a little more sarcastically than he'd really intended them to, the mixture of hurt and needing to hide that hurt behind something, swirling together to create a level of sarcasm that would rival anything Han Solo could come up with. Eliot didn't pull his gaze from Kylo. He was taking note of everything in this moment. The short words, the raised glass, and the next statement that practically bled sarcasm. His back straightened some and he glanced away from Kylo, momentarily, to look to Pansy. She was occupying herself. His attention turned back to Kylo. "She's fine," he responded before shifting to move out of the bar line and make his way towards Kylo. "Are you?" He asked before he'd really had time to think about it but it was out now. Coming to a stop, and now hidden in the dark corner with Kylo, he tried to mask how off his game this was making him feel. He wasn't used to a potentially negative interaction with Kylo. This was more something he'd expect out of Quentin. And with Quentin, it wouldn't have made him feel so, well, concerned. "You haven't said five words to me all evening," Kylo bit out in response, although he realized almost as soon as he did that he hadn't really intended to say that. It kind of made it obvious that he was upset and that the upset had to do with Eliot's lack of attention to him, which maybe was more vulnerable than he really wanted to be. He huffed out a sigh of frustration with himself. He could, apparently, share information about his family with Eliot without blinking, but this was pushing the envelope. He glanced over to Eliot, his gaze taking in Eliot's face, lingering for an instant on his lips and then darting back to his eyes. Maybe Kylo hadn't any right to be angry. It wasn't as if Eliot had ever really said anything to indicate that they were more than friends, and it wasn't as if Kylo had asked, exactly. Up until the last month or so he hadn't even really realized that he wanted to be. But even tonight when Eliot hadn't spent much time marking him, Kylo hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of Eliot - even though he would have genuinely have preferred not to. And he was likely ridiculously close to potentially damaging the friendship he had with Eliot - it was probably the absurd amounts of scotch in his system that was bringing him to very nearly not care about that. He pushed himself off the wall, bringing himself somewhat into Eliot's space. They were nearly the same height, which meant he could basically stare directly into Eliot's eyes at this distance. But he could only hold that gaze for so long before he dropped it, once again bringing the scotch up. "Anyway, I'm fine. You should get back to your -" he waved his hand in the general direction of Pansy. "Date, or whatever you've got going on with her." Eliot's face fell with the first response. It hadn't been his intention to make Kylo feel ignored or unwanted. It hadn't been at all. He wondered if the others felt like he wasn't giving them a fair share of attention? But immediately, he realized, it didn't matter. It mattered that Kylo was upset. There was no reason to try to compare him to everyone else. He wasn't everyone else. The silence was enveloping them and he kept his attention on Kylo. He could feel the aggravation the man had in his direction and he hated it. He wanted that feeling to be snuffed out because it had a direct effect on Eliot. With the feeling of Kylo being upset with him, he'd felt like he'd done something inherently wrong, when he hadn't intend to. When Kylo pushed himself from the wall, and was even closer now to Eliot, he sucked in a breath. He was hyper aware of how close the man was now. His fingertips twitched down by his side. He didn't drop Kylo's gaze and only let his attention shift away once Kylo dropped the gaze first. He shut his eyes and pressed his fingertips into his inner palm, trying to remain calm, and not let his imagination run away with him. Kylo likely felt abandoned because there was no denying that Eliot was likely his closest friend. He knew the reverse was true. Opening his eyes, he glanced back to Kylo. "It's not a date," he found himself saying, and as he did so, he had the faintest thought of whether or not that was more the issue. Was it that Kylo was jealous of Pansy? No. That was being too hopeful. "I didn't mean for you to feel neglected," he finally offered, hoping it was believed. Uncertainty flickered across Kylo's expression as his gaze snapped back up at Eliot's response. It was true that Kylo did know that Eliot wasn't one for women, usually. But he was married to one, and had obviously had a child with one, so it wasn't impossible that whatever this was with Pansy was something more. But he also didn't think Eliot would lie to him directly. Eliot had not shared everything immediately, but then Kylo hardly did that either so Eliot couldn't be blamed for that. And when Kylo had asked, about Fen, about Margo, about all of it - Eliot had been forthright and truthful. Kylo was certain of that, so he had no particular reason to doubt those words now, whatever it might have looked like. "Oh." He moistened his lips and his head turned back to regard Pansy for a moment before he turned back around to face Eliot. The near empty glass of scotch was held halfway to his lips and he felt suddenly ridiculous. He was making something of things that weren't… things. Which was giving away more of his emotional state than he'd intended to do, and he was suddenly grateful for the darkness of the corners because his cheeks felt hot, and he could only hope that the shadows mostly hid that. But they couldn't hide the fact that he felt awkward and suddenly wrong-footed. "It's… fine," he stammered. "It's not my birthday. Or my party. It's not like -" he stopped. He'd been about to say it's not like he had any expectation of Eliot's attention, except that he kind of did, because he usually got it. And this made the sudden switch of attention to someone else, particularly the sort of familiar attention that Eliot had been offering, seem like ice water down Kylo's back. He swallowed, lifting the glass to down the rest of the scotch more for something to do and to distract himself than for any real need. "It's not a date." He repeated, the statement declarative, even though his tone leaned into almost a question. Eliot's gaze followed Kylo's and he let his eyes land upon Pansy. He still regarded her strongly as Quentin's friend. His stray. He'd teased Quentin about her arrival when he'd brought her home, because Quentin hadn't seemed interested in bridging any new relationships upon his arrival. And he hadn't minded that Pansy had joined their number. Who was he to deny Quentin or Margo from inviting anyone they liked to the Cottage? It wasn't his alone. That being said, Pansy was still someone he was learning to engage around, and he saw her as nothing but a friend. How she had roped him into this had begun without clarity. She'd asked if he was solely into men and he'd teased her; only to be hit with an unexpected response of her having actual interest. Upon further discussion, he'd come to discover her desire to make her lover jealous, but initially he'd believed she actually wanted to take him to bed. And Eliot, who'd been a playboy for years and was having quite possibly the longest dry spell since his early adolescence, had turned her down. He could have but there'd been a pull inside of him that prevented him from agreeing. And he knew what that was. He'd talked to Wynonna about it. His interest wasn't in conquests currently. Though Mike, or rather the Beast, hadn't been what he'd actually believed it to be, it still made him face a truth about himself. He wanted something more. And sure, while he was looking for that particular something, there was no harm in being friendly with people and inviting them to his bed. But he hadn't seen his pull to Kylo coming and now he was too far into it. It was just that he was certain it had been one side. He had been certain if Hux had shown, Kylo would pick things up with him where they'd left off. And Eliot hadn't allowed himself to think much further into that assumption. Bringing his gaze back to Kylo now, he had a look of actual uncertainty displayed, with his lips parted as though ready to speak. Only words did not come. Instead, he listened to his friend stammer, as he tried to keep processing this moment. "It's a game," he whispered, mostly because he felt as though he needed to speak, but still unsure of how to proceed. And now he couldn't pull his gaze away from the man at all. Eliot's gaze was locked onto him and for all Kylo frequently couldn't hold a gaze when he was flustered and uncertain and feeling vulnerable, he didn't seem to be capable of breaking that gaze now. "A game?" He asked, and now the uncertainty was obvious, and Kylo was certain that he was missing something here. Something that he should have picked up on, and while Kylo had tended towards respecting Eliot's privacy in the Force, right now the inclination to dig in and try to figure out what he was talking about was almost impossibly strong. For a moment, Kylo resisted, his hand sticking the empty scotch glass on a ledge without really looking at it, and he tilted his head at Eliot. And then it clicked, with such obviousness that he couldn't help but feel stupid. Eliot hadn't been acting super close to Pansy, until tonight. Until here. Whatever it was he was doing, it was an act… probably? It wasn't him suddenly being interested in Pansy - probably. Unless Kylo was wrong again, and Eliot was so far superior at navigating social situations than Kylo was that he couldn't entirely trust himself. He broke the gaze, half turning his head back towards Pansy, and not worrying nearly so much about her privacy - maybe it wasn't so much that he was giving Eliot his privacy as it was he'd been afraid to wander in and find out what it was he was thinking at any given time? - and she didn't seem to be missing Eliot at all. She felt occupied. Kylo was wading into dangerous waters and he was vaguely aware of it, but he also couldn't stop himself from asking the question: "You're flirting with her because of a game, not because you like her?" "A game," Eliot repeated in order to reinforce that this night was not what Kylo had been convinced that it was. Of course, Eliot couldn't necessarily blame Kylo for his reading of the events. It had been the intention to make Neal believe Eliot was fawning all over Pansy. He could now say with clarity that at least he'd been convinced in his actions, but not in the way he'd anticipated. This wasn't supposed to make Kylo jealous. Neal and Pansy could play their game but this was dangerously close to hurting one of the people Eliot cared for most in this realm. And that point knocked him cold in the stomach. He'd unintentionally hurt Kylo. The main thing, now, was the distinction that was still uncertain. Eliot could live with either distinction that turned out to be true; but the question of whether or not he was just Kylo's friend was now front and center for him. "I'm helping her get someone else's attention," he explained, as his pulse quickened. He was feeling uncharacteristically nervous now. He thought, for a moment, of how he could and perhaps should make a quip about his flirting being far better than that when he was interested in someone; but it didn't feel right. He didn't want to joke away this. There'd been a miscommunication, certainly, but there was something else. "Kylo," he said, without really knowing where he was leading with it, and he dared to reach slightly forward to let the back of his fingers brush against his hand. The brush of skin against his hand sent Kylo’s stomach flipping over. His cheeks felt suddenly hot and his mouth far too dry. He swallowed, and moistened his lips again as he tried, without much luck, to gain some control over his ability to speak. Eliot hadn’t been flirting out of any interest, just because he’d been trying to help Pansy with something, and Kylo had been an idiot. He should have picked up on that, but he’d been so threatened by the idea of someone else taking his place – a place he really didn’t want to give up – that he’d just gone with the most obvious, stupid-minded possibility and ran with it. And of course, just because Eliot didn’t like Pansy didn’t mean that he liked Kylo in that way either, but the brush of his fingertips had been a shiver of possibility and no one could exactly call Kylo restrained. A more aware human might have realized that he was really exposing the game for what it was, but Eliot was the only thing in Kylo’s vision. As Eliot's fingers slid past, Kylo turned his hand towards Eliot’s, finding it and sliding his fingers along the other man’s palm, daring to slide all the way down so that their fingers could be entangled together. "Well, you got my attention," he looked back up at Eliot's face, nerves dancing at the boldness of even saying that, and everything it implied. There probably was no turning back, but then again, it was certainly not the worst point of no return Kylo had ever stood on the precipice of. In turn, as Kylo turned his hand towards his, Eliot sucked in a very audible breath, and his eyes dropped down at their now entangled hands. Instantly, his fingers flexed and he squeezed Kylo's hand tight in his own. His gaze remained upon their hands for another lingering moment before his eyes shot back upward, just in time to catch his gaze. And for a moment, Eliot seemed to be at a loss for words, though lips were parted like he wanted to speak. "How long have I had it?" He whispered, eyes searching Kylo's, with an utterly hopeful look. With the look Eliot was giving him, Kylo's eyes couldn't help but light up with warmth. There was something about that look - something that seemed to reach inside him and tug at something in his chest, making him believe that there was the possibility of something here that he'd never had before. His lips turned up in a smile as he realized that his boldness maybe had paid off. He squeezed Eliot's fingers in an answer, and closed the already close distance between them with one step. "A while," he responded, his own words not much above a whisper. As Kylo bridged the distance between them, Eliot's shoulders relaxed and he gave a flash of a look that was pure relief, as though the step forward was clarity enough for him. And that the clarity was not going to be rejected but instead had been equally hoped for. His head bowed forward, and though his gaze was now at an angle, it was clear that his smile was completely taking over his expressions. "I've wanted it for awhile," he breathed out. The words had barely escaped from him before he was lifting his head. With his free hand coming up to rest on Kylo's hip, he pulled Kylo to him, closing the final bit of distance between them both by leaning in to press his lips to his. Kylo's stomach barely had time to complete its flip before Eliot's lips were warm against his, and if there had been any chance whatsoever of the rest of the room making its way back into Kylo Ren's focus that was lost for good. Eliot was the center of his focus, and he pulled his free hand up against Eliot’s chest, then ran his fingers up to the collar of his shirt, seeking out the warmth of the other man’s neck as he leaned into the kiss and the delight of being wanted. Kylo didn’t have the most experience kissing, but he knew the basics, and his thumb had found skin at the top of Eliot’s neck, and it ran across that skin as he let himself reach into the Force and feel Eliot’s presence there – for the first time he wasn’t afraid of what he’d find when he opened himself up to it. Breath was necessary though, even for someone who could control his breathing through the Force, and maybe more necessary for Eliot who likely didn’t have quite the same endurance, so Kylo pulled back, breathless, but only an inch from Eliot’s lips because he wanted to dive back in, to explore further just how long they could go without coming up for air, to explore a kiss from every angle. For a moment though, he hesitated, heart pounding, and feeling light and breathless, as he kept his thumb against Eliot’s neck. “So that?” his words were low, but the seriousness was undone by the slight breathlessness in his voice. “Was that what you wanted?” It'd been a long while since Eliot had embraced anyone intimately and it had been even longer since it hadn't ended in catastrophe. Mike, Quentin, Margo, Fen. All four had there own reasons for being heartaches for Eliot. They weren't all equal in weight but they'd all contributed in someway to pain for Eliot. Those were the recent precedents and God, did Eliot hope that this wasn't going to follow the pattern set by those incidents. He didn't want to hurt Kylo and he didn't want to lose him. He maintained the kiss, letting his free hand slide from Kylo's hip to rest against the small of his back, his eyes shut as he savored the moment. He felt as though he were having sensory overload and a quiet moan escaped from the back of his throat as Kylo placed his hand against his neck. When the kiss broke, he didn't pull from the space, wanting to remain in this pocket of time for as long as he could. He took in necessary breaths of hot air and kept his hand still pressed to Kylo's back. "I want you," he replied. He pulled back just enough so he could look into Kylo's eyes again. "And all that encompases." And though Eliot had a very clear desire for Kylo, that wasn't all that Eliot wanted. He'd come to an understanding, back in his world, that he wanted someone to spend his life with. Back home? He was forced to do this with Fen and to try to make the best of that. But here? That wasn't the way things had to be. He didn't know if Kylo was going to be that person but Eliot certainly wanted to see what he and Kylo could be. As Eliot spoke, Kylo wasn't certain he could keep breathing, so perhaps that ability to maintain life with less air for a period was actually useful for situations outside of the battlefield or ridiculous missions. As his gaze came up to meet Eliot's he found himself really grateful for Eliot's hand on his hip, steadying him, because he didn't feel like he could breathe. No one had ever said anything like this to him, and maybe he should be running from it, but he didn't want to. From the moment Eliot had first spoken with him, he'd treated Kylo with respect, and like whatever he was frustrated by mattered. It was something that was rare enough to be noted, and something rare enough that it seemed worth holding onto. Or at least to try to hold onto, even if there was some uncertainty in this ridiculous place where they might be here one day and gone the next. Kylo's thumb ran along Eliot's jawline as he tried to figure out words, because it felt like he ought to say something in the aftermath of that revelation. Instead he dropped Eliot's hand so he could bring his other hand around to place on Eliot's hip, pulling him closer, even though that wasn't really that possible under the circumstances. That little moan he'd been gifted earlier - he kind of wanted to see if he could make it happen again. But instead he brought his hand from Eliot's neck around to run his thumb across Eliot's lips. "Yeah, okay." They weren't exactly the most poetic of words, but they might have to do. Well, and: "You have me." When pulled towards Kylo, he flashed a wicked and needy look towards the man. His fingers flexed against the fabric of Kylo's shirt, gripping the material in his hand, and he held on. He didn't want to pull from him. He wanted to hold on and see just how close that he could get. His free hand moved to rest against his shoulder and he slowly let out a shaky breath as his thumb ran over his lips. "Okay," he replied in similar simplicity. He had Kylo and Kylo had him. The thought was enough to make his heart want to leap from his chest. He hadn't anticipated that this would ever be a hope that would be fulfilled but here he was now, holding him close, with nothing else in that moment mattering. His hand slipped from Kylo's shoulder and moved to cradle the side of his head, fingers slipping between strands of hair. "I'd like to go home now. How about you?" He whispered. Kylo tilted his head, chasing the feel of Eliot's fingers against his head running between his hair. The last time he'd really had someone sliding fingers through his hair, he'd likely been much shorter and that had been a different life that might not have even been his. And he wanted more of this. Kylo wanted more of all of this. His heart seemed to beat more quickly at Eliot's suggestion of going home. There was something comforting, and delightfully intimate about the idea that they could go back to the cottage together. And it felt at once strange and yet undeniably true that the notion felt so natural and right. They could find some quiet there and Eliot would be all his. He leaned forward, answering Eliot's question with a kiss, his lips pulling at Eliot's lower lip in a tease, pulling out of it long enough to whisper back in return, "yes, I want you to myself." Which really was the crux of things wasn't it? What he'd wanted for so long and had tried to constantly maneuver in little moments, and now it was being offered as a gift. "Let's go," he added, voice low but laced with urgency, pulling back only enough to facilitate that possibility of walking, even as his hand went seeking Eliot's again because he didn't really want to let go of this man, even to go home. |