“Really? Is it so bad to enjoy and find a sense of humor attractive?” he asked, voice heavy with faux-innocence as his head tilted sideways a tick. “Because I’m certain that wasn’t a line delivered in earnest.” Hazel’s nose wrinkled in his amusement, and another laugh followed. His hand lingered, fingers idly tracing patterns to subdue the itch to sneak higher up the other’s leg. And elsewhere.[break][break]

He could behave. For the most part.[break][break]

There was a bit of a thrill in reading the unspoken reactions and cues that Hugo provided, whether he meant to hand them over to Hazel or not. It wasn’t often that Hazel felt the need to please as opposed to being pleased himself (bit of a brat, in that regard,) but here he felt eager to do so. For Hugo to be happy with the choice made to take him out, if it meant that there would be more nights to follow. Again, another anomaly in Hazel’s track record with intimacy and others in general.[break][break]

When Hugo snagged his gaze for that fleeting moment, Hazel’s mouth twitched in a fleeting smile. Something triumphant settling in the center of his chest in sensing that the other was doing his best to keep it together.[break][break]

With the menu propped up high, Hazel leaned closer still, just enough to allow the tip of his nose to nudge against the curve of Hugo’s jaw, then just at the hollow under his ear. Lingering there silently, just long enough before Hugo leaned away.[break][break]

His heart stuttered, and he might’ve been inclined to take the movement as a rejection, but then Hugo laughed and the sensation it caused, along with the compliments made him feel light as a feather. Punch drunk on the feeling. “I am?” The response came out a bit breathlessly, wonderstruck as he blinked at the other. Then color rose to his face despite his prior, blatantly shameless behavior.[break][break]

All because he was told he was easy to talk to. No one had ever claimed to say or believe that about him, the most socially awkward person he knew. Especially when it came to emotions. He very much wanted to kiss him again.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]

“Well then, good.” His lips twisted in a smile both pleased and smug all in one. Something pert and self-satisfied that he was able to provoke some sort of internal debate within the other. Even if he wasn’t fully aware of it. Hazel at the very least could sense that Hugo may very well have been slightly at war with himself. This suited Hazel just fine–it meant that perhaps he might continue keeping the other on his toes.[break][break]

Hazel himself had never experienced anything quite like this either. It was almost alarming, how easily he slipped out of his shell in favor of a coy forwardness that edged on becoming entirely brazen. And at the same time– he almost didn’t care if that was what he devolved into. He was always prim, always put together, and typically always more than a little awkward around others. But for some reason, it felt comfortable and natural to speak and flirt with Hugo. Perhaps in other circumstances, he would’ve stepped back to evaluate. Withdrawn once more until he could be more certain.[break][break]

But in the other breath, he found he didn’t care. Not when his life until then had been a series of measurements of how long he might last, or how sustainable his health was. The conflagration was one he didn’t see fit to extinguish. He’d never quite burned like this before. Heaven forbid he quash what might be a singular opportunity in a lifespan that even he was uncertain of.[break][break]

So his hand lingered. So he drank up the sound of the other’s laughter as he nuzzled at warm skin. So he registered the shallowness of his breath as he watched Hugo draw closer, the unspoken signal immediately registered and accepted before they were (in his opinion,) rudely interrupted.[break][break]

With a barely notable sigh, Hazel leaned sideways– back to a proper distance as the waiter stood ready to take an order. His eyes flit down to observe the menu once more, but quickly snapped back up toward Hugo at the question asked with a slight arch of one brow. Setting the menu down, he didn’t quite look him in the eye as he drummed on the tabletop and spoke. Light, breezy, nonchalant. As casually as he could. “Oh. Room service does sound rather nice, actually.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]

The heat that brewed under Hugo’s skin was, in a word, delightful. Adorable. Magnetic. He wasn’t exactly trying to make the other squirm, though he wouldn’t say he was opposed to that takeaway. He was simply processing the fact that he was deemed desirable enough to skip over the formality of dinner for. Normally he was all for order and procession. But this was a bit empowering.[break][break]

“It does,” Hazel repeated, something sly creeping into the edges of his smile. Still, he kept it together. Even as he felt a hand curl around his to tug him out of the restaurant and his heart lurched unevenly. Excitedly. He wasn’t prone to acting with such a high level of impulse. But at that exact moment, it was the only choice that made a lick of sense. He didn’t usually fancy others the way he was realizing that he apparently fancied Hugo.[break][break]

It went beyond an effort to have a bit of fun while he felt physically able. When Hugo had said that he was easy to talk to, that had resonated with Hazel. A swift and heavy kick of relief that this was more than something casual, and it wasn’t just him sensing that. Sure, he wasn’t thinking with his sense of logic so much as his wants right then, but it also felt like he could just lay there in a cushy hotel bed and talk to Hugo.[break][break]

And that was a concept that usually repelled Hazel.[break][break]

No sooner than the elevator doors slid shut, he wanted nothing more than to press against him again and resume what he’d started on the way up. Instead, he switched gears, and only leaned against the wall. Daring Hugo to make the first move this time. “Which floor?”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]

A hand trailed along his jaw, eliciting a shiver that darted down his spine. “Out of practice in your mid-twenties?” Something teasing twisted the corners of his mouth. “What’ve gotten myself into?” In truth, he hadn’t considered a lack of practice or consistency as Hugo’s part. But Hazel didn’t linger on the thought as the elevator lurched to life, dropping down levels to reach floor 34.[break][break]

Instead, he focused on twisting inward, leaning strategically against Hugo instead. His face turned inward, lips pressing against his palm as gray eyes flit up toward Hugo’s face, partially shrouded by his eyelashes. The visible corner of his lips twist upward, betraying the coy hint of white teeth. “Something tells me you’ll fall back into practice just fine.”[break][break]

And if he didn’t with apparent ease, well, Hazel didn’t figure he’d be bothered by that either. Even in such a short span of time, he’d found himself smitten. Something he typically would have found abominable in himself, but there he was, pleased with the possibility of what could be a really good encounter, or a clumsy one. His intuition was usually sharp, though.[break][break]

Though he didn’t typically indulge all that often, Hazel also was no stranger to these sorts of dalliances. The thrill of this however, and how it managed to fuel his sense of impatience was new. He was accustomed to playing difficult for the chance of a payoff only after much work and effort on the part of whoever was occupying his time. In short– normally he would’ve been more than content to sit through a tediously long dinner if it meant driving his opposite to a near-exacerbated point of waiting.[break][break]

He wasn’t accustomed to the shoe being on the other foot. Though, gratefully, he was not subjected to the same torment by Hugo. As soon as the doors rolled open, he didn’t wait to latch onto the other’s hand before practically dragging him down the hall toward the proper door. And no sooner than the door had opened and closed behind them was he grabbing onto Hugo again, tugging him down to meet his mouth by fistfuls of his shirt. The barely intelligible instruction following– “Lift me.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]

A sly little grin slipped across his lips as Hugo spoke. His hand slid up, tossing some of the long strands of lilac hair over his shoulder. “I’m devastating, I know.” Hugo didn’t seem terribly torn up, though—something Hazel found attractive. That sense of humor when directed at oneself was something that he himself didn’t always manage gracefully.[break][break]

There might have been a slight sense in having the upper hand, but in truth, Hazel felt just as immediately smitten. That moth to a flame sensation. He couldn’t seem to help himself where this man was concerned. But there were no second thoughts about it, no sense that he might regret this later. All that lingered was the need to stay within Hugo’s orbit. To navigate that space until it felt familiar with ease.[break][break]

The door clicked shut behind him, and he thought about suggesting that the do not disturb tag should from the handle, but there was no time for that yet. Not when they were both swiftly wrapped up in one another. Teeth nipped at him and his breath snagged, hands still steadily wandering as he pressed back equal fervor. Teeth, tongue, whatever skin he could lay claim to.[break][break]

A shiver danced up his spine as his demand was obliged. Deliberate hands elicited an appreciative hum in the back of his throat. And then he was being lifted. Pushed against the wall as his legs hooked around Hugo’s waist. Pressed closer, his own hands drifted into pearly pale hair, knotting his fingers there with only the slightest tug as he pulled Hugo back in with better vantage.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]

This was madness. Absolute, utter madness. Maybe later his thoughts and worries would catch up to him–the creeping anxiety that he was no more than a means to a satisfactory end for the other. Maybe he fell securely into the category of wined and dined, only to be ghosted after this frenetic little tryst. All Hazel could really do was hope that he wasn’t being played for a fool and that his gut instinct that there was more there was true.[break][break]

Even if he was wrong, though, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t played his own part in the whole affair, provoking and flirting with Hugo as he had. Hazel had made it perfectly clear what he’d wanted.[break][break]

But those thoughts were far away. Buried under the heat and want and desire humming in his system. All he could focus on was the slide of his shirt, the pull of it over his head before he glued himself to Hugo once again, detesting the idea their mouths be parted for even a few moments.[break][break]

His hands remained nested in the front of Hugo’s shirt, determined to tug him down too. Silvery lilac fanned around his head in a messy sprawl. Hazel paid it little mind, though, as lips drifted down his neck instead. Breath snagging on a sigh, his head fell sideways to better expose the skin there.[break][break]

All the while, his own hands worked–fumbling to work their way down the buttons on the front of Hugo’s shirt. Caught up in the moment as he was, it was a more difficult endeavor than it normally might’ve been. An impatient grumble hummed in the back of his throat, mingling with pleasured sound. Gray eyes cracked open a sliver, and a small smirk curled on a face coated in heavy blush. "You're terribly distracting."

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]

Their movements were tangled and frantic, as if they couldn’t have come to this point quickly enough. Even if they really had rushed forward into the moment itself. Not that Hazel necessarily minded as much. Something about it felt right.[break][break]

A laugh, soft and breathless, bubbled up from the center of his chest. “Consider my eyes only for you now, then,” he murmured back, an amused smile curling at the corners of his mouth before it gave way to a noisy sigh as Hugo slipped away to explore the rest of him. His hand fisted in the bedding beside him, but the other lifted to thread through the other’s hair again. Firmly, but not to tug him back up.[break][break]

It truly was a distraction, in a way. Like this, he could forget himself for a little while. He could forget the details that built him into the person he’d become and the weakness that seemed to control his health. Right then, he was adequate. Enough to be desired so strongly.[break][break]

Altogether undone in a way that he couldn’t hope to be reassembled. Hazel had spent his life until then always picking himself up and putting himself back together. This felt like the only way being so unraveled was acceptable. Heat and breath, the rustle of sheets and slide of skin.[break][break]

Maybe that was a weakness all of its own accord. But he welcomed it entirely, not once protesting the shed of fabric. Lost himself to it as a devilish smile sought him out before Hazel’s head fell back again, vocal and shivery at the precursor to what could only be called total bliss.[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Hugo Albrecht | m: sleepless in slateport | several years ago | outfit[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-espeon"]