After a quiet night in his room, Balthazar wakes in a labyrinth of clutter and dust, sprawled across a threadbare red velvet divan. The smell of the place, and the feel, is so utterly familiar he sits bolt upright. Home? Home! Delight and relief are immediately replaced by a vague sense of regret. He can't quite remember where he thought he
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"But I can't place anything more than that, and it should be impossible. Our worlds are not the same even though they have many parts that are identical."
Roi began to think. The man had a dream where he thought that he was in it. It was red, with a sweet smell...
...A sweet smell...
"This is going to sound creepy, and I swear that I don't mean it that way, but did the sweet smell... warm you up inside?"
{Fair enough. :3}}
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He glances up at the question, and it doesn't sound creepy to him at all, actually. "Warm? It was...sensual." His gaze goes distant. "Exciting and relaxing all at once."
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"Your smell is familiar, too. Mix it with that sort of... sweet scent, and those sensations, and that makes it doubly so." He sniffs him he tries to further capture Balthazar's scent.
"It's really weird." He starts trying to move out of his curled up position. Although there are still a few parts of his body that were affected by the corrosive blood, he chooses to ignore them for now. Unabashedly, he wriggles closer and keeps trying to sniff him.
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He looks over, trying to read Roi's expression as he sniffs at him, and more distinct memories begin floating to the surface, images of the young man before him gasping and moaning with pleasure, laughing at some sort of joke or tease, asleep in his arms. The connection isn't quite there, the acknowledgement of reality, but as Roi moves closer, he reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder.
He's very still as he looks him over, tempted to touch and kiss, but still too uncertain.
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"Eh?" Roi pauses entirely as his shoulder is touched, and then can't seem to resist the impulse to tilt his head to try and sniff that hand on his shoulder. His ears twitch and flick, and their proximity....
He swallows hard as a faint blush crosses his face, turning his head back to look at Balthazar. "Wh-what is it?"
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He lets go gently, unwilling to frighten him, but desperately hoping he remembers something to corroborate Balthazar's scrambled memories. "I remember kissing you."
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"I didn't tell you that in this place. But if I told you it before, then that makes sense...."
Still... kissing him? A bit uncertain, he reaches for the hand that was previously on his shoulder and tugs it back using both of his own.
"Do you remember to what extent that I enjoy it?" What did they do together, if it was more than kissing?
Red walls, red carpet, a room with a rug and a fireplace... a bathtub? And....
--he feels a sharp jolt of desire in his body, and he unconsciously lets out a low purr in response. The memory of the sensations that he felt are trickling back.
"Do you remember a bubble bath? In a bathroom with a vanity?"
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He's blushing a bit now, too, because part of his mind is still telling him he's in Manhattan and he hasn't been with anyone romantically for centuries. He moves a little closer to Roi, though, because the other memories are considerably more compelling. "I think so. And, yes...you laughed at me when I told you I'd gotten soap up my nose before."
His other hand comes up to stroke his chin delicately. "The hotel. That's right. Are we still there? I guess that'd explain the contents of my drawers."
His blush intensifies. "Agh. My, um, dresser drawers. That I keep clothes in." Wow, what an unfortunate double meaning. There's nothing wrong with the contents of his boxers, thank you.
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Roi laughs and then moves closer. Yes, it's coming back to him now. "I dunno. I like the contents of your drawers just fine. Do you want me to double-check that nothing's wrong?" he teases. But, wait, his mouth is still burned. That puts a damper on things.
"Furthermore, now I don't feel so bad from wanting to jump you while you're wearing that."
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In that case, though, maybe he doesn't want to be sane. He laughs when Roi does and puts both arms around him. The blanket slides off the slippery fabric of his makeshift pajamas. "I promise you, nothing's wrong. But are you still in pain?"
He glances around. "...I guess we're trapped here until one or both of us...well, you know how it works. But if you need more time to recover, it's pretty accurate, minus the monsters. I could give you a tour."
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He grabs his milk again and sips more of it.
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"Unfortunately, I can't take you around the city. I like the park and the museums. Although, this place is almost a museum in and of itself. I really am sorry about the basilisk."
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"The basilisk isn't your fault." Roi pouts at him. "It's okay that we just tour in here." After a moment, he moves to curl up with him, adjusting the towel so his wet tail and curl up around himself.
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