(no subject)

[wanderingsin]

Sin rushes home to shower and change his clothes, texting Athelstan as he goes.

Sorry, long night at school. I'm on my way to you now. <3 Sin

He looks at himself in the mirror, noting the bags under his eyes. He hesitates a moment before grabbing a bag out from under his sink. He hasn't worn make-up in a while but he still has some stashed somewhere. He manages to find some concealer, using just enough to tidy himself up.

Dressing a clean outfit, rather more casual than normal seeing Athelstan won't care what he wears, he dashes downstairs, a slice of toast between his teeth as he pulls his jacket on.

A quick bus across town and he's standing outside Athelstan's building, tapping the buzzer lightly.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

"Not much." He grins. "Does yours suit you, with this Ragnar guy to keep it standing?"

[wanderingsin]

"It does." He smiles, cocking his head to one side. "It's cramped and strange but... homely, it's own way. I may not have much but what I have is lovely."

"I have the best bathtub. This old cast iron thing with chipped enamel and lion's feet, big enough to drown in. And the acoustics on foyer are better most concert halls I've played. Most of the tenants have been there since the place was new or can't afford to live anywhere else but they look out for each other. And no-one minds me practising as long as I stop between 7 and 8pm. Mr Giordano gets grumpy if he doesn't get to watch Jeopardy."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan laughs and says affectionately, "God forbid you should get between an old man and his game shows."

[wanderingsin]

"Oh no. That would be a step too far. There was one time rats got to the wiring and we lost power to the building. Ragnar rigged up a car battery to Mr Giordano's TV just in time. We were all out on the hall watching anxiously. It was like watching someone defuse a bomb."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Are there cats in your building? You should get cats."

To deal with the rats, obviously.

[wanderingsin]

"Our landlady doesn't much like cats but there are a few strays who are encouraged to stick around." He grins. "A well placed bowl of milk can have an impressive impact on rat population. And there's Mr Rossi's terrier who seems to find his way into the cellar from time to time. Usually with a little help."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Well, you don't like rats, and if she isn't going to do anything about them, you have to", he says practically. "Yeah, terriers always know what to do with a rat."

[wanderingsin]

"So I'm told but I've never been down there to see it." He leans in, his voice low and confiding. "I have to admit, I'm a bit squeamish about rats."

[athelstanthescribe]

"I've heard they can make good pets. But probably not wild-caught ones."

[wanderingsin]

Sin shudders theatrically.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan laughs at him, but it's all in affection.

[wanderingsin]

Sin smiles back, watching Athelstan with affection of his own. He's so luck to have someone like Athelstan. Someone he can open up to without judgement or questioning.

"So? Now that you're grossed me out thoroughly with thoughts of pet rats and their beady little eyes," He shudders again, standing and stretching. "Would you like to work some more?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Yes, we could." He casts a critical eye over his painting. "Like I said, it's never really finished."

[wanderingsin]

"I'm all yours," Sin promises, "Fiddle as long as you need. Or if you need me to distract you from that canvas, I can do that too."

[athelstanthescribe]

"I don't want to fiddle with it too much. Is there anything you'd like to see, in a painting of you?"

[wanderingsin]

Sin shakes his head. "I'd rather see myself through your eyes. Find out what you see more than what I'd like to see in myself."

He steps behind the screen, singing softly as he undressed. "Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies. You never know just how you look through other people's eyes"

[athelstanthescribe]

"What's that song?" Athelstan calls over as he moves back to his easel.

[wanderingsin]

"A terrible 90's song called Pepper. By a band called, of all things, The Butthole Surfers. I don't like it much but that line always stuck with me. Wondering what other people saw when they looked at me."

He steps out and settles back into the pose needed. "Dr. Fell described me as a genderfluid boho creative. Which I have no idea what to make of."

[athelstanthescribe]

He makes a slight face at that.

"Genderfluid, maybe I'll give him, but boho creative's just pigeonholing."

[wanderingsin]

"And I'm only dress in anything that might be described as boho on the weekends. I tend to dress conservatively for school, mostly to down play the genderfluid bit."

[athelstanthescribe]

"So maybe Dr Fell isn't quite as clever as he thinks he is."

[wanderingsin]

Sin gives a frustrates growl, still holding the pose perfectly. "I really don't know. I wish I knew why he's messing with my head so badly."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Some people just get off on that kind of thing."

He runs his brush down a line, softening it.

[wanderingsin]

"That's an unpleasant thought. That I might be nothing more than a game to him."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Maybe not nothing more", Athelstan says, trying for fairness. "But he does seem to be playing games."