The prompt page of doom
Alright! Alright, I give in. I'm making a place where you can prompt me.
But I've got a few rules:
1) This is for prompts that you can't otherwise prompt for me at comment_fic. Either you've used up all your slots or it's a Lonely Prompt weekend, just as long as the prompt showing up here isn't a prompt you've written there. This is for the sake of my own ( Read more... )
But I've got a few rules:
1) This is for prompts that you can't otherwise prompt for me at comment_fic. Either you've used up all your slots or it's a Lonely Prompt weekend, just as long as the prompt showing up here isn't a prompt you've written there. This is for the sake of my own ( Read more... )
"My father would argue I think hardly enough."
"Your father is not an artist, and that is not the point. Speak, Steven, else you'll find yourself working instead of eating. Again." Jefferey fixed him with a stern look, and Steven could not help but sit down. Even if he did blush. Of course Master Morgan didn't miss a thing, and raised an eyebrow. "Well, now, at least I can surmise the focus of your attentions. You wouldn't be thinking of one Mister Kane, would you?"
"I... well, I..." Steven hides behind his wine cup a moment, and Jefferey laughs at him.
"Steven, I don't give half a damn which gender you do or do not take interest in. Nor do I give a damn about class or land or anything else. You should know this by now." He gives Steve a moment, eating some of his food and watching him closely. "Well? Speak, man. It certainly explains why you've been finding reasons to be out front of your shop of late..."
Steven sighs. There's no getting out of it, now that Jefferey is paying it mind. Master Morgan is as determined as a mastiff, especially when it comes to his friends. "I was thinking of perhaps giving him a gift," he finally allows. "But heaven knows what would be appropriate..."
"To hell with social mores," Jefferey dismisses. "Give the man something he would like. Something you want to be giving him."
"But would he accept it?" Steven pokes at his meal with a fork, biting his lip as he thinks. "He will barely hold my gaze when we are speaking, I would not want to embarrass him with it, only to make him happy. And would you listen to me? I sound like a woman." He rubs a hand over his face. "This is foolish. The man probably doesn't want a thing from me."
"I wouldn't be so certain." Jefferey pauses to sip his wine. "He thinks very highly of you. Your art, your music. Especially your music. Perhaps..."
"What, tell me?"
"He has a good voice, and good hands. He's quite skilled with a guitar, but has nothing to call his own... One of your guitars would make a very fine gift indeed."
Steven nods, already thinking. Already planning. "Yes, yes you are right. As always..." He pushes up from the table, intent on heading back to his workshop."
"Eat now," Jefferey says, laughing again. "The wood will be there when you are finished..."
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Oh darling this is soooooo gorgeous and so totally what I needed tonight.
Love this world to pieces, its just magical and I see it so clearly when I read your stories. I love the slightly older/wiser vibe Jeff has going on and the tenderness and hesitancy on Steve's part. Its just perfect for a steam 'verse.
*adores you*
(trying this again since LJ seems to not want me to comment tonight)
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thanks so much :)
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I did say that I love this, right...? *snuggles*
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