OPEN♔POST

[tinkertank]

❧Dance ❧With ❧Me?




➷ Pick A Muse
➷ Post a prompt, picture prompt, or set the scene.
➷ Label who you're tagging.
➷ NO REGRETS, JUST LOVE. We can dance until we die, bb.
➷ ...Something like that!

Comments

This is quite the way to flirt.

[laughingandlyric]

[Well, so far, so good. With someone doing hospital watch duty, another responsible for the actual logistics of tracking camera feeds and tracing attempted hacks, another responsible for escort detail, and then a few extra for just-in-case, for backup... well. It left Jehan and Ambrose with relatively little to do, actually, what with Ambrose's role being what came first; like a thunderclap, the loud bang that put two and two together, warned of what was forthcoming; and Jehan's role being stationed at the tail end of their justice plan; the strike of lightening, bright and illuminating, surefire and hopefully memorable.

All they had to do now was sit back. Wait. Worry.

And while Jehan was wonderful at fretting, and tremendous at being morose, could think in romantic shade of worst-case scenarios and paint stories across his imagination that were made blacker and bluer by the more brutal realities they had seen match them... well.

Well, that didn't mean he should. If he was alone, he would have fallen into it, but with Ambrose right there, frowning into his hands like that?

Instinctively, he reached over with a hand, to give his knee a light squeeze.]

I think it'll be okay. Everyone is doing their best; they're going to protect him. I really believe that we can.

You say in your Rene voice. Alt, MNN QUITE SO.

[bestofthedevil]

[Waiting.

Waiting was never one of Ambrose's strongest suits, as he certainly preferred to wear ones that brought out the colour of his fiery soul and drew attention to his very being. That usually resulted in action and moving and doing, not in this sort of awkward sitting around like lame ducks twiddling their feathers.

The squeeze to his knee brought his attentions back to the young writer, who was brilliant with words visualized, and grounding in those overheard.

A soft smile expanded into a lopsided grin as he naturally met that hand with his own, giving it a little squeeze back. Ambrose should be the one reassuring Jehan, not the other way around.]

Damn right he'll be okay! He's got the best watching his back, after all, and if all else fails, it's not like we don't have feet ourselves.

Though, really, I just wish we had something more to do than just sit here, waiting for something we don't want to happen.

You are wonderful.

[laughingandlyric]

[A small, understanding smile, and the faint warmth of the other hand curled around his own lent him the bravery needed to prompt the reminder:]

We have a lot we can do, other than just sit here.

[For the cause? Really not, actually. For that, they had tossed in their chip, played their hand, and now were waiting on other players. But the avid poker shark didn't merely stare into space while others made their moves. They looked for tells, they took a drink, they flirted with the girl on their arm, they smoked, they fronted, they picked lint off of their suit jackets.

...Okay, it wasn't as if Jehan was about to suggest they pick lint, but the sentiment was the same. They could do something. Anything, really; the opportunities were limitless. Such was life!]

We cooould... make pancakes. Or play a board game. Or watch a movie. I could read you that book I bought you that you've pretended you've already read, but really keep hidden below your mattress and haven't gotten past page two yet. We could tell scary stories, or you could show me how to deliver a proper right-hook, or we could turn on P!nk again, so loud that the neighbors hear and come to complain; but not so loud that Mrs. Mills hears it, she's lovely, and way too elderly to be walking up the stairs just to scold us.

[A beat, a smile.]

Well?

Of course. I am with you, after all.

[bestofthedevil]

[Listening curiously to the slew of suggestions Jehan made. Had he suggested picking lint off their sweaters and fronting at how many pieces each had, Ambrose would have laughed and declared him the most adorable thing on Earth. Because really. How do you that as anything less.

It was hard not to grin a little and lightly elbow the other when called on his bluff about the book.]

Hey, I had every intention to read it! I've just been a little busy, what with this doctor kid and getting this perfect little team together to protect him and...

... How did you know I haven't gotten past page two, anyway?

[An almost not-mock suspicious look.]

Have you been spying on me?

[Smirking a little, with a raised brow.]

Because you know what I do to spies, right?

[A beat for a response.]

I get 'em. And I get 'em good.

[And then that's a tickle attack coming at him now. Because where Jehan was good at words both written and spoken, Ambrose was better at action, and hell if he wasn't wound so tightly by the whole situation already anyway that his springing to meet it would see little restraint.]

ahdiauh I can't.

[laughingandlyric]

How did I--? Well. Er.

[And there it is, that look like a deer in headlights, all of those verbose qualities slipping through his finger like sand as he blushes and turns a little in his chair, as if he'd just been accused of some truly heinous crime; spying on the man he often roomed with, the man who was a spy! What a felony!

Still, he seemed to lose his metaphorical footing on the proper words to tell him it was just a guess, based on the fact that he kind-of-sort-of quizzed him on a passage on page five which he'd been particularly fond of as an introductory illuminator, and when Ambrose had failed to recognize the quote, the memo had been gotten!

Wringing his hands, Jehan only looked more alarmed as he was called a spy, his eyes like saucers when Ambrose posed that question, making an undignified noise in return. It wasn't until the other man was lunging at him though, tickle-fingers first that Jehan all but meeped, getting out of his chair with such force as to knock it over and making a bolt for someplace safe-- like behind the couch! He could dart quickly enough, it was just a matter of escaping Ambrose's clutches... a very serious matter, as anyone who'd ever been tickled by him knew!

Still, there was a hint of amusement in his flushed cheeks and the slight upturn of a smile, the spark of challenge in his hardened eyes as he looked behind himself, insisting,]

I had no choice but to spy! Forgive me, or we go to war!

[Well. Being mature adults, as they were. They'd found something to do.]

[bestofthedevil]

Fiend!

[Cried, just as said tickle-fingers missed that weak spot beneath Jehan's ribs before the other darted behind the couch.

Of course, Ambrose would have forgotten the little not-quite-quiz, as the significance of such a quote would have passed by right over his head and been bypassed by a quick word, an errant smear of peanut butter, or a convenient hum of Enjolras's messages in the background. But he'd've been right; he'd wanted to read the book, as it'd called to some part of Jehan enough to be recommended, and he did feel a bit bad about it, even now.

Yet such intentions slipped easily from Ambrose's mind again as he skirted the fallen chair without righting it, and hunched a little in an aggressive crouch, grin pasted wide across his face.]

And you admit your crime, so you must pay the price!

[Circling around the couch slowly.]

[laughingandlyric]

Ambrose! That isn't fair!

[A very serious thing, to call him that an not 'Amby', that he was indeed of the assumption that the moment had a gravity to it, and that gravity would always be in favour of the heavier of the two of them.

So, circling around the couch slowly, careful not to go too quick that Ambrose might change direction and have him as he slipped and skittered to course-correct, Jehan insisted,]

It was you who committed the initial crime, the GREATER crime, of not reading your book! It really was! And you're the spy, not me! And now the inquisitor! And soon the tormenter! Woe that you see guilt in I!

[Verbosely, with an indignant sniff to hide a burgeoning smile, that the game they'd chosen was good, was fun, was engaging, and that while he didn't hope to escape those clutches forever, perhaps he could huff and hem his way into a lighter sentence, trading wiggly fingers for securer embraces.]

[bestofthedevil]

[A very serious thing, indeed, that it would have its intended effect. Ambrose laughed heartily, in a manner tinged with more of that mock-suspicion.]

Aha! Only a spy uncovered and admitted would stop using an intimate nickname, that we have moved from allies to enemies!!

[Following in that slow circle, waiting for the right movement to do exactly what Jehan hoped to avoid, and his grin warmed at such eloquence, that he always was so well-spoken, a trait that belied his age and had charmed Ambrose so swiftly when they'd first "met" one another online. Poetic battles, of the best sort.]

Only one way to root out a spy, that I was the spy to root out the spy -- a double agent, if you will!

[Crowed, with a grin as he leaped up onto the couch in order to jump over it entirely and launch himself at Jehan in a tackle of a hug.]

[laughingandlyric]

A double-? What? No! [Gasped, hands going up at the last moment as Ambrose came barreling over the couch, that he was ever the fawn, boneless when danger was inevitable, that he trusted how easily he fit into Bahorel's arms and how simply he fell back onto the carpet with him would endear rather than enrage, that a bear might chew on something so inoffensive for a few moments before losing interest or even soothing the wounds. So it was that when they hit the floor, rather than wiggle and writhe to get away, Jehan merely made a low and pretty sound, to request compliance, pressing his face into Ambrose's shoulder and insisted,] Don't tickle me, I surrender. The betrayal is enough, surely...?

[bestofthedevil]

[Ambrose twisted as they went down in order to take the bigger brunt of the impact to the floor, to unfurl in such a manner as to put Jehan atop him but clasped in an enveloping embrace.

As the other went nearly boneless in his arms, Ambrose's thought to tickle-attack immediately stopped, that certainly the fun of the struggle did tend to be the fuel to his actions, but far moreso that Jehan's plea was so plaintive, so sweet, and his weight so comfortable, that he only tightened that bear hug and laughed cheerfully.]

You surrender? Then rather than such inhumane torment, you shall be subject to eternal bondage for your crimes~

[laughingandlyric]

Mmn... [A hum in a low pitch against the spot where shoulder met collar bone. Ambrose had shielded him, and the fall was soft and solid, warm and secure enough to bundle against, now that the threat had passed.

Going to prop his chin up against his chest, blinking slowly, wearing an almost sleepy smile now (as if Bahorel's warmth were just the sort of intoxicating thing that promised sweet dreams), he replied,] ...well, I do like bondage... so I guess I don't mind.

[bestofthedevil]

[Ambrose growled affectionately in return to that hum, that the pressure of Jehan's face there was comforting for its own part, that the outpouring of Jehan's relaxed contentedness seeped into Ambrose all on its own.

Peering down at Jehan by lifting his head a little from the ground, a natural frown tugging at the corners of his lips in such a motion, Ambrose took a moment to process what Jehan had said before snorting a laugh, squeezing the other in a slightly tighter hold, then.]

Well, do you, now? I never would've guessed! All that kinky porn you have on your machine and all surely wasn't a tip-off...