We all scream for...Julian.
As he studies the contents of the freezer, Arsène has his doubts about whether Julian’s digestive system could handle the ice cream with the brownies in it. The vanilla with the caramel and crunchy bits in it should probably do nicely. Besides, Arsène would have taken the brownie anyway; it’s his favorite
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"Merci, Monsieur Arsène."
He wastes no time digging in, making a happy little noise as he savors the first spoonful.
"Mmmmm!"
He eats with enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up as he gets his first taste of caramel. He takes a bit more on the end of the spoon, smiling at the sticky sweetness of it. Still a little wary of solid food, he crunches the hard bits he finds in the ice cream carefully, though he is pleased to find them very much like the sugar wafers he remembers enjoying as a little boy.
He licks the back of his spoon, looking around curiously from his perch on one end of the couch. The house is old and rather small, though it's obvious from the odd collection of things scattered about that several people make it their home.
"This is Monsieur Percy's house?" he asks, turning back to Arsène.
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‘It was just me and him, but then that silly Brody moved in. I only hope he doesn’t decide to keep his pets here as well, although they have their own place.’
Not to mention that one of them would rather shit glass than be under the same roof as him.
Stabbing his spoon into the ice cream securely, he uses his free hand to grab the bottle of rum, taking a long drink from it before holding it out to Julian.
‘Rum goes very well with ice cream.’
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He looks up curiously. "You do not like le petit garçon?" he says, sucking a bit of caramel off the tip of his finger. "I like him very much. He is my friend."
He takes the bottle from Arsène. "It does? I shall have some then." He takes a long drink, coughing a little and wrinkling his nose. He doesn't like the taste, but he's too polite to say so. Besides, it's easily fixed. He smiles at Arsène, helping himself to another spoonful of ice cream.
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Arsène just lets that hang in the air.
'You can like him all you want. I don't. Just like Percy doesn't like you, but I do.'
He sits and watches Julian eat quietly for a few moments.
'Do you like your ice cream?' Arsène certainly likes his; he's done with it. If only it came in larger containers. He eats far to fast to make the little cartons last. But the boy's opinion on the choice of drink is clear. 'And do you not like rum? Do you want something else? We have everything.'
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"Oh yes! It is very, very good. I have never had this kind before."
He looks down into the cup. He has eaten a little more than half, but he is full. He is tempted to eat more anyway, but, reluctant to test his stomach's resolve, he hands it to Arsène.
"Would you like the rest? I am afraid I cannot eat any more, though it was delicious."
He looks at the rum bottle. "Well..." He hesitates, not wanting to seem ungrateful for Monsieur Arsène's hospitality. "Might I have whiskey instead?"
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‘You eat like a little sparrow. Very dainty and pretty,’ he remarks ‘Almost like a girl.’
Arsène smiles at Julian, this polite and innocent boy. ‘Of course you may, gamin,’ he says and goes into the kitchen, quickly returning with a bottle of whiskey. And a popsicle. Two popsicles actually.
‘Do you want one?’
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"But I'm not a girl," he says, pouting a little. "I am just not so used to food as..." He watches as Arsène stuffs a huge spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "...as you are."
He takes the offered bottle of whiskey, but declines the popsicle.
"I cannot," he says, putting a hand on his stomach. "Really. But thank you, Monsieur Arsène. Perhaps I can try one on my next visit?"
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Unwrapping both popsicles, he holds them in one hand and bites each once intermittenly.
'Of course. I would love for you to visit me again. Or maybe you can have some when you wake up tomorrow.'
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"You think I am pretty?"
This pleases him and he sits up a little straighter, happy to be admired. He takes a sip of whiskey, blinking in surprise at Arsène's comment.
"Tomorrow?" he echoes, staring at him blankly. "You mean stay? But...but the sun will be up in a few hours, and my Sire will worry about me. Besides, Monsieur Percy will certainly be home before dawn. Surely he would not like to find me here." He glances around nervously, as though he expects Percy to walk in at any moment.
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He had planned to entertain himself with the boy in their bed, keeping it up until they were both thoroughly exhausted and fell asleep. But between Percy’s unpredictable moods and Julian’s…curfew, it doesn’t seem as if it will happen that way.
Perhaps he should cut to the chase.
Arsène smirks and caresses the boy’s cheek with softness he is unaccustomed to. ‘Yes. I think you are very pretty.’ He leans closer, snaking an arm around Julian’s thin frame, nuzzling him softly. ‘And you think I am pretty, no?’
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"Yes," he says, nodding and putting a hand on Arsène's shoulder. "I think you are very pretty." It's true, he is. He might even have been beautiful, but there's something about him...perhaps the sadness in his eyes, that seems to make him fall just short of it.
Julian squirms a little, his back against the arm of the couch.
"You want to kiss me," he says, looking Arsène in the eye. Rather daringly, he thinks. He smiles. "Why, Monsieur Arsène. If you are not careful I might think you did not just bring me here to visit and to share your ice cream."
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With heavy-lidded eyes, he locks lips with the boy, very carefully. He's more the type to drag his lips over someone's flesh, to use his mouth to choke a scream or gasp. But he has been watching movies, carefully, very carefully, seeing how the two people's lips interlock like praying hands, how the movements are gentle, like birds poking about.
He tries to mirror this now, feeling the softness of the boy's lips against his own.
Pulling back, he shifts his hips slightly, pressing onto the boy's side.
'My trousers feel...rather tight. I think I ate too much. I'm just going to...undo them, if you don't mind.'
Well, it's not a lie, is it?
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He squeaks a little when Arsène presses against him. He is a bit heavy but it feels sort of nice, too. He lies back, resting his head against the arm of the couch. When Arsène reaches down to undo his trousers, Julian just lies quietly, still and watchful, his eyes traveling up from the fingers fumbling at the buttons to the sharp blue eyes that never waver from his own.
"Poor Monsieur Arsène," Julian murmurs, reaching up to stroke his fingertips along the other's cheek. "Yes, of course. You must make yourself comfortable."
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‘Pretty people like us…they look nice together.’
He kisses Julian’s neck.
‘Have you ever been with a man?’
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He sees that Julian is nervous. He will fix this. ‘It is okay, mon petit,’ he purrs, sliding his hands up Julian’s shirt, running his fingers over his flesh. ‘I am learning to be gentle. I will try to be gentle.’
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