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It turns out that, for all the fuss that was made about it, this dance is actually very boring.
This is only just barely a surprise; any event that requires chaperones is an event that Lindsay generally doesn't look forward to. But it is true. Lindsay has had maybe a bit too much to drink, by now — he's accustomed to Bacchanal rites; the feeling is hardly unfamiliar — and successfully slipped away from his chaperone, and yet it is still boring.
"— be safe," Lindsay says, still very soft. He's not floating anymore either.
"I don't... think that is the sort of thing that naval captains normally have to do, particularly when they're not at sea?"
He tilts his head down, leans into the touch.
"…still a little floaty. Worried about Ash. Warm. You're very good."
"I'm glad he's okay-- I mean, I'm horribly jealous, but I'm glad-- but. I don't like that everyone knows you belong to someone you've only known for a week and only like six people know you belong to me and no one else is ever going to know--"
He's a little sniffly.
"Everyone I care about knows. But — if I could tell everyone I would — if I could walk through the streets to your house announcing it I would — sometimes I would daydream about having the constellation and your name tattooed on me —"
"And I'm not going to get married, so if I had the money and a discreet tattooist we could match."
(His voice sounds a little wistful on "I'm not going to get married.")
"Which constellation would you get for me? I know not Virgo, but —"
You can hear the way he's smiling.
"I'm flattered, though."
Leo's mouth is really very close. It's so, so easy to fall back into kissing him.
Oh gosh kissing.
It is really hard to be jealous while Lindsay is kissing him, and very easy to slip into the space where nothing matters except making Lindsay happy.
Nothing really matters except being Leo's — except being here with Leo —
Yes. Bed.
His bed here is larger, built for two people rather than one.
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