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[ More than half-expecting to see the log book held open out to him for corrections, Richard has to think a beat on what he’s wrought for himself instead. In an ideal world, he’d have stayed up a while drinking. As is, the scent of elfroot about the room is long stale, and his eyes are cool and sharp in their appraisal of the clergyman on his stoop.

He steps back to permit Gideon entry, tension pinned up under his breastbone and behind his ears.

The nug in Loxley’s bed blinks blearily at the spill of light from the hall. ]

[The nug goes unnoticed, or noticed and uncared about; it's all the same.

Stepping forward into the room, straight-backed and solemn, Gideon's presence is large despite his smallness of stature. He keeps going, until Richard is forced to either step back or share the air with him, radiating a strange intensity just beneath his outward calm.

He's here for one reason. The question is whether Richard is ready to pay the piper he summoned.

[ The door is still open when whatever jammed gear slips at the mere promise of proximity. Gideon steps in and Dick moves to tangle rough into him. Kissing isn’t strictly necessary for what he has in mind, but he rakes in to start there anyway, quick and dirty for the throwaway strangeness of it all, all prickle and tooth. How long has this man even been in Riftwatch?

How likely is it that they’ll speak again any time soon, or about this at all, ever?

He flattens one hand out to push the door quietly closed on their way to the wall, plunging the room back into darkness without bother for the lock. ]

[What they're doing may be kissing, but there's more violence than romance in the pressing of Gideon's mouth against Dick's, the claw of his hands into the man's back as he urges him against the nearest surface. He's strong for his size, his motions insistent and, perhaps hilariously, reminiscent of his demeanor in the infirmary: polite enough to not be outright offensive, but brooking no argument.

He pushes him against the wall, standing on the balls of his feet to meet Richard's mouth with his own.]

Edited 2021-06-16 05:35 (UTC)

[ These quarters are sparsely decorated: two cots, two chests, a table with chairs, and a desk -- nothing to knock or jostle as Richard is bolstered back. He’s busy digging his hands up under cloth for the lay of muscle over and under Gideon’s ribs, grasping at the heat and strength in him on his way down in wrestling pursuit of a belt buckle. It’s disorderly, desperate.

Unbecoming, for a snake.

But Gideon’s stretch upward makes it easier, as does their shared sense of urgency. Maybe they’ll make it to the bed.

Until then, it’s all clawing and biting and fighting clothes off against this wall in the dark. ]

[Perhaps they make it to the bed, or to the floor, or perhaps they just stay against the wall, but when all is said and done (or just done), the affair ends as innocuously as it began.

Without speaking a word, Gideon adjusts his clothing, straightens, and takes his leave. One last inscrutable glance toward Dick as the brother lets himself out is all the acknowledgment he gives.]

[ Stark naked and lean with half his collected clothing in hand, Richard watches Gideon glance back in the same strange silence. There’s a glimpse of red gleaming off the backs of his eyes from light spilled in through the open door -- terminated not when the door closes, but just before it does when he looks sharply away to the sound of Adrasteia II the nug ripping a little stuttering toot from her box, replete with a poff of sparks.

At least she waited until they were done. ]

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