cape_kore | 001 | Charlie Luciano

Entry tags:

001 | Charlie Luciano | Voice

[Hello Cape Kore, were you feeling a lack of New Yorkers you needed to fill? Another very strong accent comes over the device, deeper this time and much angrier.

Do to the automated response from his wrist... whatever, Charlie has come to the conclusion that it's some kind of direct line to his kidnappers. So please do excuse him for making rather a colourful first impression.]

I don't know who you thinks you are, you sick fucks, but whatever they're paying you ain't gonna be worth jack shit when I gets my hands on you, you hear?

And what kind of idiot you gotta be to dump someone and not fucking search 'em first?

Hey! [Charlie's voice becomes a little more indistinct as he moves his wrist to flag down a passing stranger.]

What to I gotta do to get a fucking car around here?

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[He raises an eyebrow as he's pulled closer. Charlie had only been exaggerating the size of the bathtub a little, but it's pretty impressive.]

Huh. You could fit a couple people in there easy.

Now you're getting ideas.

[Somehow a small room like this feel a little more protected than being in some strange house, and he leans down to kiss Meyer. They hadn't done that since the night before Masseria and the drug money, and apparently it's been even longer for Meyer. And patience has never been Charlie's strong suit.]

[Of course he kisses back. He rarely rejects a kiss from Charlie, when it comes right down to it, but he can't help a suspicious glance over at the camera. Sure, it's been covered up, but who knows if there are others around the room somewhere?]

[Charlie feels Meyer's head turn, and tracks his eyes to where they fall. Dammit, camera. Cramping his style.]

We can rip it out of the wall, can't we? You found a screwdriver in this place? Or a sledgehammer?

Sure, we can rip it out of the wall.

[And be unpleasantly surprised when it just shows up again the next day, but hey.]

There's got to be a screwdriver or something downstairs. We could shoot it.

[He's only half kidding.]

Good fucking idea.

[Charlie pulls his piece from his holster and hits it with a well-aimed bullet right to the centre of the lens. Are far as he's concerned, a very good use of a bullet indeed.]

Now stop being a fucking pussy and kiss me again.

[Now that the camera's gone -- and he has to admit, he thinks it's a good use of a bullet, too, even if neither of them have any extra ammunition -- he feels a little more comfortable leaning in and kissing Charlie again. He didn't even want to think about what being stuck here without him was going to be like; luckily, he hadn't had to try it for too long.]

[He starts shrugging out of his jacket even as he kisses back, gun left on the back of the toilet. When Charlie Luciano gets an idea firmly lodged in his head in can be hard to let go of, and the minute he walked into this bathroom he's been thinking of the both in them in it together. I mean who would design a tub like that anyway if it wasn't for screwing in?]

[Okay, so maybe Meyer's first thought about the tub was that it would be a great place to lounge around with a good book, but his second thought definitely involved the more intimate uses of it. Still, he has the distinct feeling that they should maybe be exploring more, asking more questions, doing something other than this...

... not that he's doing anything to stop kissing Charlie, and not that he's saying anything to that effect.]

[as far as Charlie can see, they have nothing BUT time on their hands. Asking questions and searching things out can wait until they're both much more relaxed. Which involves his hands going to help Meyer out of his jacket next, followed by undoing the buttons of his vest.]

Stop thinking so much, huh?

[Telling him to stop thinking is almost always a losing battle, but he can't say he doesn't appreciate the effort, and he does shrug his jacket off the rest of the way, letting Charlie take care of the buttons on his vest. Maybe relaxation isn't such a bad thing.]

[He keeps kissing him, sporadically shedding layers for a while. Luckily as strange as this bathroom looks, faucets are familiar enough and he gets the water running as he strips the rest of the way.]

[Well, if Charlie wants to utilize that bathtub right away, who's he to complain? He's not all the way out of his various layers -- undressing takes a damn long time when you wear as much as they do, and he's not moving as quickly as Charlie, either. His mind is still somewhat elsewhere, but it's starting to focus on Charlie more.]

[Slow works for him, just for now. He can't find any soap, but the point right now is the soak, anyway. The soak and the company. He hangs his suit on the back of the door - it's Italian made, okay. Totally naked, he leans over to test the water, adjusting as he needs to. His hair is already starting to frizz out in the humidity, he can feel it curling against his forehead pomade be damned.]

[He's sure not opposed to checking out the view as Charlie bends over to test the water. Charlie's good to look at -- nobody'd deny that. He finally gets the rest of his clothes off, folding them or hanging them neatly. The last thing he needs is a wrinkled suit when he has no idea how long it's going to be before they can get a change of clothes.]

[The view is entirely for your benefit, Meyer.

He climbs in, hissing a little as he's made the water just a little too hot. But his body settles soon enough. He's left room for you behind him, Meyer, nudge nudge wink wink.]

[He's tentatively dipping one toe into the water, not wanting to scald himself and make this day even worse -- although, of course, the day had markedly improved once Charlie had shown up. Finally deciding that the water's fine, he gets in, fitting nicely into the space Charlie left for him. He can't say sharing the bathtub with Charlie is unpleasant, really, even if it's not something they've done before.]

[The bathtub back at their run-down townhouse can barely fit one of them, lot along both. Charlie still has to bend his knees to fit in, but the slope of the back makes it perfect to lay his head on Meyer's chest, his hair probably brushing right under his nose. His body is solid and familiar and exactly the reminder he needed after a day like today.

No matter what they're thrown into, having Meyer be here and real and solid makes it seem a little less to overcome.]

[It would be hard to describe Meyer as sentimental in general, but maybe he's feeling a little sentimental right now -- sentimental enough to stroke Charlie's hair for a minute, at least. Charlie's hair has always been hard to resist touching, after all. He'll never say he's glad Charlie's here; he doesn't say things like that, but it's obvious he is.]

[Why resort to a pesky thing like words when they both know each other well enough not to need them? He lets his eyes fall closed, humming a little under his breath at the feeling of Meyer's fingers against his scalp.

They don't do this very often - just lying together and touching without sex on the immediate horizon. Maybe they need to.]

[Besides, as eloquent he can be, saying something simple like "I'm glad you're here because I'd go crazy if you weren't" seems impossible. So he'll just stick to running his fingers through Charlie's hair, always finding it surprisingly calming to play with his curls.]

[It's surprisingly calming to have them played with. He gropes for Meyer's hand under the water, bringing it up to rest with his against the edge of the tub. Under regular circumstances he might be inclined to start initiating something more. After all, his body isn't disinterested given the way he can feel Meyer pressing up behind him. But for now they both have some thinking to do.]

[Thinking is one thing he's good at. They're going to have to deal with being stuck here somehow. It's what the next step should be that's eluding him. He lets his hand rest with Charlie's as his other hand continues to stroke his hair. He's not sure what to do, and that concerns him. There's always been an answer to find somewhere, for any given problem, but this time, he's not sure there is.]

I can hear you worrying back there.

[He'll flick some water in Meyer's face and see if that stops him.]

[He'd argue that Charlie couldn't actually hear him worrying, but the eerie thing is that Charlie seems to have an innate ability to know exactly when he starts worrying, so he can't deny it.]

Aren't you worried?

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