The curtains came down, and Sindre reached past Herakles' sword to grab at his hand, hauling himself up, wide grin on his face. It might be his last scene in the opera, and he might have just been vanquished by the man in front of him, but the swordfight they had was near enough to realness for endorphins to be coursing through him.
Sheathing his own sword, Sindre ran his hand through his hair, grateful that this scene ended right before intermission. He didn't have to suffer the indignity of being dragged off stage like the dead body he was supposed to be.
It was only as his hand brushed the other as it was returning to his side that Sindre noticed how close he was to the other man. How Herakles' own breath was still rapid, blood high in his cheeks. Curiously unwilling to step back, Sindre nodded toward the dressing rooms instead. "Care to wind down with me?"
Re: We have a six!wisdom_of_catsAugust 7 2011, 12:55:49 UTC
As much as he loved singing, swordfighting scenes were a lot of fun too. Even if it was just for the stage, there was just something about it that really brought the adrenaline to the fore. At least, it did if his "opponent" knew a thing about play swordfighting. Sindre Myhre did.
That being so, Heracles grinned widely at him, a bit of sharpness in the expression, and then pretended to think about it.
"Wind down? Ha, that might take some work!" he said, laughing. Then, tempering his smile for just a moment, angling his head downwards to he could peer at Sindre from under his lashes. "Unless... maybe you have an idea how to do it?"
Re: We have a six!talks_to_nisseAugust 7 2011, 13:21:29 UTC
Sindre's gaze flickered to Heracles' long, long lashes, and then down to his lips. There were reasons why in-house relations were discouraged. Very, very good reasons.
Sindre couldn't recall a one of them, at the moment.
"I can think of a few ways," he admitted. "If you're amenable."
Heracles didn't even need time to think about that.
"Oh, you know me, I have an amenable personality," he replied cheerfully, giving Sindre one last glance from below his lashes before walking towards the nearest dressing room. He chose a small one so that should someone find the door locked, they wouldn't bother getting difficult about it.
He didn't know what Sindre actually had in mind but it paid to be prepared.
Heracles had never really understood why this was supposedly forbidden. After all, they were all adults here and the way a good performance left one... it was just so good to actually do something with that rush. Possibly it was even unhealthy not to, and sure one could always find willing admirers but... that could lead to certain complications, far more likely, in his experience, than tangling with a costar.
At the moment, he was more concerned with returning the kiss and running his hands over the Norwegian. Heracles laughed after they stumbled when he leaned a bit too hard on the other man, both of them too distracted by the kiss to keep balance.
He leaned back, not far, just so he could trail light kisses on Sindre's face and neck, ending at his ear. Heracled nibbled on the curling lobe, before whispering lowly:
Please accept this lovely number 6.mystiklsushiAugust 7 2011, 13:24:18 UTC
The theater was just a bit too small to have more than one star dressing room. Not that Kiku minded sharing. Especially not after the thrill of a performance like tonight's. It had all gone so well, and excitement was still burning warm in his chest as he began to extricate himself from the elaborate costume from the grand finale.
"Tonight...I think you may have been the best I have ever seen you."
Re: Please accept this lovely number 6.wisdom_of_catsAugust 10 2011, 18:32:41 UTC
Heracles glanced at Kiku, smiling at his uncommonly excited (for him, anyway) expression. It was nice to see him so obviously happy.
"Thanks," he replied easily, removing the wig and grimacing at the flattened mess his hair had turned into.
"I really hate these wigs," he mourned, knowing he said it after every performance and not caring. With a little sigh, he picked up a brush to make the most of it... it would be pretty much useless as usual, of course.
Kiku chuckled, and ran a comb through his own. Within minutes, it was back in about the right shape, one of the stranger properties of his hair. And one that he knew was a bit of a sore point for Heracles.
Once his hair was in order and the layers of his costume reduced to comfortably tolerable levels, he glanced back over at his dressing roommate who was still fussing over his hair.
"Let me try something with it," Kiku offered, extending his hand for the brush.
Giving one last pout at his mirror image, Heracles sighed and handed the brush over to the other man, slumping down in his seat as he got up to take the brush to Heracles' hair.
"It's always so... messy," Heracles complained to no one in particular, pulling at one curling strand that bounced right back where it had been when he let go.
People always claimed they couldn't see the difference, but it didn't matter when he could.
The soft strokes of the brush relaxed Heracles, a bit too well even. He could feel himself get sleepy, almost unable to resist the urge to push into the touch, especially when it was actual fingers stroking his scalp.
"Mm?" he hummed distractedly, before backtracking to what Kiku had actually said. "I guess, it just gets so... unruly, sometimes."
If Heracles had been a cat, he would have been purring. As it was, he was leaning his head back slightly towards the fingers moving through his hair, eyes closed of their own accord. At Kiku's last words though, they opened half way, and Heracles peered at the other in lazy bemusement.
"Jealous, you? What on earth for? Yours is always perfect."
Reply
Sheathing his own sword, Sindre ran his hand through his hair, grateful that this scene ended right before intermission. He didn't have to suffer the indignity of being dragged off stage like the dead body he was supposed to be.
It was only as his hand brushed the other as it was returning to his side that Sindre noticed how close he was to the other man. How Herakles' own breath was still rapid, blood high in his cheeks. Curiously unwilling to step back, Sindre nodded toward the dressing rooms instead. "Care to wind down with me?"
Reply
That being so, Heracles grinned widely at him, a bit of sharpness in the expression, and then pretended to think about it.
"Wind down? Ha, that might take some work!" he said, laughing. Then, tempering his smile for just a moment, angling his head downwards to he could peer at Sindre from under his lashes. "Unless... maybe you have an idea how to do it?"
Reply
Sindre couldn't recall a one of them, at the moment.
"I can think of a few ways," he admitted. "If you're amenable."
Reply
"Oh, you know me, I have an amenable personality," he replied cheerfully, giving Sindre one last glance from below his lashes before walking towards the nearest dressing room. He chose a small one so that should someone find the door locked, they wouldn't bother getting difficult about it.
He didn't know what Sindre actually had in mind but it paid to be prepared.
Reply
Pull Heracles close, Sindre whispered, "Flirt," before leaning in and kissing him.
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At the moment, he was more concerned with returning the kiss and running his hands over the Norwegian. Heracles laughed after they stumbled when he leaned a bit too hard on the other man, both of them too distracted by the kiss to keep balance.
He leaned back, not far, just so he could trail light kisses on Sindre's face and neck, ending at his ear. Heracled nibbled on the curling lobe, before whispering lowly:
"Wall or dressing table?"
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"Depends on who's taking and who's receiving."
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"Tonight...I think you may have been the best I have ever seen you."
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"Thanks," he replied easily, removing the wig and grimacing at the flattened mess his hair had turned into.
"I really hate these wigs," he mourned, knowing he said it after every performance and not caring. With a little sigh, he picked up a brush to make the most of it... it would be pretty much useless as usual, of course.
Reply
Once his hair was in order and the layers of his costume reduced to comfortably tolerable levels, he glanced back over at his dressing roommate who was still fussing over his hair.
"Let me try something with it," Kiku offered, extending his hand for the brush.
Reply
"It's always so... messy," Heracles complained to no one in particular, pulling at one curling strand that bounced right back where it had been when he let go.
People always claimed they couldn't see the difference, but it didn't matter when he could.
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"I don't know why you're complaining about it...your hair is so soft."
He set the brush aside, opting to run his fingers through instead, toying with the locks as he twisted curls between his fingers.
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"Mm?" he hummed distractedly, before backtracking to what Kiku had actually said. "I guess, it just gets so... unruly, sometimes."
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He edged a bit closer, still running his fingers through the curls. It was like tending to a large cat.
"I'm a bit envious, really."
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"Jealous, you? What on earth for? Yours is always perfect."
Reply
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