Michael shivered at having his words repeated back to him, and wanted to believe, desperately, that they were true. But it had been a lonely ten years when he hadn't really felt Alex was there, or looking, at all. That, however, was not at all what he wanted to focus on right now. Tonight was for fun. Tonight was for seizing the chance to have something they'd never had. To not be what they'd gotten locked in to being, and be, instead, what they could have been, at least for one night.
So, he lets the good feeling stay and build, grinning at Alex and winding his fingers through his, tugging him toward the warehouse.
It's dark inside, save for the black lights and the neon paint lighting up on bodies all around them, as well as jars of it set up with artists around the periphery. The music's pounding, and Michael flashes Alex another grin, leaning in.
"I hope you're not actually fond of that shirt. Because we need some of that paint."
After they scored something to help increase the psychedelic experience.
"I think I'm okay with losing one shirt," Alex deadpanned even as his fingers dipped into one of the jars of paint as they walked by. After they were past that particular booth, he planted his feet and tightened his grip on Michael until Michael turned toward him. That was when he reached up and slid his paint-covered fingers right across Michael's cheek. He finished by wiping his fingers deliberately across Michael's chest.
He smirked, a deliberate challenge. He hadn't come here to be any kind of a wallflower. He'd said he was coming and that meant he was in. For all of it. Even if it was something he might regret later.
In the here and now, things were good and he knew exactly what was coming.
Michael stopped when urged, then laughed in surprise as Alex dragged paint across his cheek, then his shirt.
He arched an eyebrow at Alex. "...Okay. I was thinking something a bit more deliberate than smears of paint, but..." It wasn't like he actually minded, especially not when Alex was smirking and looking at him like that.
"But now that my shirt is ruined..." He tugged it off, because a paint-smeared shirt wasn't really what he was going for here. Looking around, he tossed it in a trashcan that already had a few others in there. He eyed Alex's shirt and wrapped his fingers in it, gently pulling him close. "This should go, too."
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2019-09-29 02:14 am (UTC)So, he lets the good feeling stay and build, grinning at Alex and winding his fingers through his, tugging him toward the warehouse.
It's dark inside, save for the black lights and the neon paint lighting up on bodies all around them, as well as jars of it set up with artists around the periphery. The music's pounding, and Michael flashes Alex another grin, leaning in.
"I hope you're not actually fond of that shirt. Because we need some of that paint."
After they scored something to help increase the psychedelic experience.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-29 01:58 pm (UTC)He smirked, a deliberate challenge. He hadn't come here to be any kind of a wallflower. He'd said he was coming and that meant he was in. For all of it. Even if it was something he might regret later.
In the here and now, things were good and he knew exactly what was coming.
"I think I can live with one shirt being ruined."
no subject
Date: 2020-02-07 01:23 am (UTC)He arched an eyebrow at Alex. "...Okay. I was thinking something a bit more deliberate than smears of paint, but..." It wasn't like he actually minded, especially not when Alex was smirking and looking at him like that.
"But now that my shirt is ruined..." He tugged it off, because a paint-smeared shirt wasn't really what he was going for here. Looking around, he tossed it in a trashcan that already had a few others in there. He eyed Alex's shirt and wrapped his fingers in it, gently pulling him close. "This should go, too."