Roman (touchofsilver) wrote in worldsapart_ic, @ 2019-06-11 19:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | roman etana ka'uhane, sebastian sullivan |
Who: Roman Etana Ka'uhane & Sebastian Sullivan
What: What's luckier than a three legged dog?
When: 10th June
Where: The beach
Rating: Low
Warnings: n/a
It was another hot radiant day in Los Angeles, the sun riding high in the sky and steadily and surely baking all those who were brave or rather dumb enough to set foot out into it. A broad shouldered golden skinned and heavily tattooed dragon being one of those only he was smarter than most and was out in the surf, on a board, and in the company of a three legged black staffordshire bull terrier by the name of Lucky who ironically had gotten a second chance when Roman had happened across him and took him home.
Lucky just so happened to enjoy surfing or at least riding Roman’s board and the dragon didn’t mind the company especially as he could spend hours riding the waves and letting his hair down, literally and figuratively. Of course there had to be a moment where you had to come back in and Roman was well aware that after a few hours it made sense to come back in and grab something to eat and drink.
Unlike most other surfers Roman hadn’t opted for a wetsuit and was instead just clad in a black and white pair of board shorts and was working a towel over his hair as Lucky was for the moment padding around his legs and bare feet but then he must have caught the scent or sight of something or somebody he liked because then he was off like a flash. He was surprisingly quick and spry for a dog with three legs.
“Aw crap,” Roman grimaced as he could see Lucky making for a suit and he knew this wouldn’t end well so the dragon abandoned the towel in pursuit of his wayward animal.
There was no way in hell Sebastian was going to wear Armani to the beach. If he was forced to attend a business lunch at an oceanside cafe, he would cloak himself in attire meant to fit the occasion - even so, he felt out of place in dress pants and a t-shirt; it was a combo that was very difficult to pull off. The t-shirt was tailored to fit well with the contours of his physique - too baggy and you looked homeless, too tight and you looked like a douchebag. The trousers were tailored too, a light and airy fabric good for summer. The outdoors.
How he hated the outdoors. Especially the beach - far too much sunshine and sand for his liking, though the first was taken care of thanks to the ring he wore on his right hand, spelled to guard him against the weakening (and burning) effect of the flaming orange ball in the sky. The sand, well. He’d just do what he had to do and then leave.
He’d just finished his business lunch at the cafe - it was more a lounge in a hotel, really and an impressive place to take a professional you were wheeling and dealing with; the Grana Padano alone was enough to transport diners to the Italian Riviera - and was heading out. When, all of a sudden, this thing came running up to him. All happy and dopey and full of animal innocence. Also, it had three legs and that was just too ridiculous for words.
“Shoo,” he told the dog, who didn’t listen - just wagged its tail and smiled. “I don’t have any treats. Go.” Yep, still not listening.
Yeah, Lucky was not the sort of dog who listened to people who he liked the look of telling him to go away, it literally had no effect as evident by how he persisted. Roman was thankfully pretty damn quick so he easily caught up with his wayward pet and immediately gathered Lucky up into his arms. “What’d I tell you about running off and bothering strangers?”
Not that Lucky seemed to be taking him seriously given the playful yipping and attempted licking happening.
“Sorry about him, he’s not really good at the whole being ignored thing.”
“Uh - “ In a rare moment of ‘what the fuckery,’ Sebastian was caught off guard. He did a double take as the dopey, three-legged mongrel was collected by a very large...specimen. In minimal clothing (granted, this was a beach, not church). And also boasting all of these rippling muscles and a skin tone that was about as far from pasty white as one could get - obviously he soaked up vitamin D pretty often.
The man just didn’t seem real, was the thing. Sebastian tilted his head, as if assessing whether or not he was caught in a lucid dream.
“It’s fine, he wasn’t bothering me, I just...I don’t have anything,” he offered lamely, patting his pockets. “Are you some kind of animal rescuer for sad creatures?” Because you didn’t get much more unfortunate than this thing.
Lucky was seemingly quite happy in Roman’s arms as he squirmed and did everything he could to get his belly rubbed which Roman obliged after a few moments. “Uh, I guess?” He ventured with a lift of his shoulders. “I mean I hate animal cruelty and if I come across an animal that needs help I generally tend to whisk them away so yeah I guess that makes me a rescuer for sad creatures. Not that I think Lucky is all that sad.”
He smelt vampire and he knew given the paler skin and the pieced together appearance that his nose wasn’t steering him wrong as far as the other went.
“Nobody just carries treats around,” he assured him with a toothy grin. “So I wouldn’t feel too bad.”
Oh, right. That was true, wasn’t it? Why the fuck would he walk around with a pocketful of jangling dog bones or, even worse, bits of chicken or steak. That would be ridiculous. Not to mention it would soil he’s fine dress pants (he’d never get the smell out, ick).
“A rescuer of animals. That’s...cute, I think,” Sebastian observed, and he blanched a bit because when was the last time he used the word cute? Nothing in his life was cute. Not pictures of kittens in teacups, not raindrops on roses, not piercing-eyed incubi who flirted with him in bars (that was surreal, actually).
Certainly not this person, who was gigantic (fee, fi, fo, fum he smelled dragon blood - and it was so spicy, fire and brimstone and heady smoke) and definitely not ridiculously attractive.
He didn’t like admitting those things, preferring to curb stupid things like attraction and curiosities about what incubi blood tasted like and what else Dog Whisperer did in his spare time . That just paved the way for a whole slew of problems. “Right, well, hi Lucky,” he reached out to scratch the mutt behind the ears. It was still smiling at him, fuck his life. “A fitting name for him. I’m Sebastian.”
Not like anyone cared, but just in case.
Roman lifted his expressive eyebrows at the admission that what he did was cute. One way of looking at it, a necessary kindness in an otherwise cruel world was more how Roman liked to look at it.
Lucky was exceptionally thrilled that he was finally getting attention from his object of affection, apparent in the way he nuzzled into the hand scratching behind his ears and attempted to lick any piece of skin going.
“Nice to meet you, Sebastian. I’m Roman and I would shake your hand but armful of dog and I’m definitely too wet for that.” He instead just gave Sebastian a smile because he wasn’t that hard on the eyes. “I think Lucky likes you.”
Ugh, dog slobber. All on his hand. Now Sebastian needed to go scald himself with a brillow pad in a hot shower. But alright, Roman - sure, was that really his name? It sounded like he should be doing nude modeling for an art class which wasn’t a bad image - actually smiled at him, and not many people smiled at this cold-hearted predator, so he would take what he could get.
“Likes me?” He chuckled at that, daring to be adventurous (or just throw caution to the wind and be at the mercy of dry cleaning companies) and give Lucky a pat on his head. Pat, pat. Good boy, go to sleep. No? Just keep begging for attention? Fine. “In that case, he’s the only one who does.”
Liked him, that is. However, Seb was alright with that. You didn’t get anywhere in this world by being soft. But anyway. “I take it you’re not here for a business meeting,” he guessed, eyeing Roman’s attire, or lack thereof.
“What gave it away?” Roman asked with a chuckle as he shifted Lucky in his arms as the dog insisted on wiggling and making a nuisance of itself. He might only have three legs but that definitely didn’t stop him. “But you-” He tipped his head to run his light hazel gaze over the other man’s attire. “Definitely do not look like you’re here to enjoy a day at the beach which is a shame considering how gorgeous the water is right now.”
Just the right amount of cool to offset the heat of the afternoon.
“But I’m getting the distinct vibe you aren’t the beach bum type.”
“Not at all. The sun and I don’t agree - “ He’d be dead now if it weren’t for the spelled bauble - polished, smooth, simple black titanium but also imbibed with magic, old magic at that. And all of that aside, Sebastian still wouldn’t have picked a day at the beach. Even if he were actually ‘normal.’ “But one of my clients wanted to try a specific restaurant with an ocean view, and so here I am.”
Yay. How exciting.
Though at least it wasn’t totally hopeless - he’d run into Roman with his three-legged beast, after all. “I’ll admit that you and Lucky are already preferable to that.” He smirked a bit, a half smirk that may pave the way toward a smile. Someday.
“Not for any particular reason,” he amended. “Just...not because of what you’re wearing.” Shutupshutupshutup.
Roman was just letting Sebastian get everything he was trying to say out and resisting the urge he had to laugh as it was clear that the vampire was doing as much of a verbal backpedal as was possible in casual conversation. “Well, good thing you caught me on a good day, I normally have much smaller shorts.”
And then he gave a broad charming grin complete with those sharp incisors.
“Was the restaurant any good?”
He knew he was a slice of peanut butter pie dipped in chocolate and then served on a stick - one of those delicious carnival foods but oh-so-bad for you. Or at least, that was the impression Sebastian was getting from Roman here. Especially given that dangerous grin that was a lot more enticing than it should be.
Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. He’d fight against the dance of flirtatiousness for as long as he possibly could - it wouldn’t last too long, but he could still try.
“It was. Though it’s not as if I care much about...actual food,” he said, because it was apparent that he had fangs and drank blood, not mimosas. “The company was boring but that’s work for you. Well...”
How was he doing at not appearing interested? Because it was taking a lot of work and he just had to hope it paid off. “I won’t keep you and Lucky if you’re...busy.”
“Well, we kinda crashed into your day,” Roman pointed out as Lucky had finally settled down and was no longer wiggling quite so much. “So if anything we’re the ones keeping you from doing whatever you gotta do next after your business meeting.”
He glanced over his shoulder as somebody called his name before turning back to Sebastian with a smirk. “But lucky for you, pun intended, looks like I’m being called back.”
Roman bent down and placed Lucky back on the beach, thankfully he took off in the opposite direction rather than bothering Sebastian again. “So, uh, it was nice meeting you Sebastian and I probably won’t see you around ‘cause y’know the beach isn’t really your thing.”
“Oh, right - “ He was actually somewhat disappointed that Roman was being called away. But really, what the hell else would he want to do here? Stand around talking to a vampire with a squirming dog in his arms, being bathed in slobber? That sounded awful even to Sebastain.
He watched Lucky run off with dusky blues, focusing back on Roman a moment later. “I don’t know, you might see me around. Maybe we volunteer at the same animal shelter.”
Unlikely. Sebastian hated cute animals about as much as he hated people - perhaps a little less, since animals didn’t know any better.
“Or if you ever go to Tooth and Nail,” Roman said with a smirk. “I’m a regular there.” He tipped his head and offered the vampire a further grin. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
The dragon’s eyes lingered before he was turning on his heel to head back to his friends.
“Maybe,” Sebastian managed to respond, but he was busy trying not to stutter or trip over air (weren’t vampires supposed to be sleek and graceful? And he was, ninety percent of the time) because that parting look from Roman had him ‘shook,’ as the kids say.
How stupid. It wasn’t like he was being invited to Tooth and Nail anyway. And what the hell kind of establishment was that? Sounded like a bar where if you sat in the wrong place you got tetanus.
Well. Maybe it was worth asking Daniel about anyway. For no reason at all. He made a mental note to do that, and then it was back to his dreary day.