[Figaro's confused and Gepard's confused right back at him; they're two confused men on a couch, staring at each other, confusedly. Figaro says that's it? and Gepard tilts his head ever so slightly, because it sounds like he'd expected something else? Something worse? Which Gepard supposed made sense - Belobog had endless problems, and they could always use more hands to find solutions to those endless problems - but it was wrong to exploit a desperate man for those solutions. Or something.
He hadn't gotten that far. But that's what happens when a guy gets assaulted, drugged, swept into some stranger's arms, called cute, and presented with a very strange problem: it's difficult to come up with ideas on the fly. They're both lucky he came up with something as solid as he had, what with the blood drive.
But, Figaro spreads out, and Gepard inches back. He nearly says something with an s-, which doesn't escape Gepard's notice...things to consider for later.
He'd ask, but Figaro's sprawling out a little, and Gepard inches back a little. Not that there's much space to inch back to, but an effort is made. He tries. It's nice having a distraction, anyway, because- because. Because there's a lot of things to think about, later, at leisure. He doesn't want to think about them now, when the subject of those thoughts - Figaro - is sprawled right there.
Gepard scowls at the question.]
Isn't it more your problem than it is mine? [It's not as if he licks himself all the time.] I wasn't even aware I tasted that foul until you brought it up. I would've thought I'd taste...well. Normal.
[And instead, he tastes so foul that Figaro's making eyes at Dunn...terrible.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-04-13 04:30 am (UTC)He hadn't gotten that far. But that's what happens when a guy gets assaulted, drugged, swept into some stranger's arms, called cute, and presented with a very strange problem: it's difficult to come up with ideas on the fly. They're both lucky he came up with something as solid as he had, what with the blood drive.
But, Figaro spreads out, and Gepard inches back. He nearly says something with an s-, which doesn't escape Gepard's notice...things to consider for later.
He'd ask, but Figaro's sprawling out a little, and Gepard inches back a little. Not that there's much space to inch back to, but an effort is made. He tries. It's nice having a distraction, anyway, because- because. Because there's a lot of things to think about, later, at leisure. He doesn't want to think about them now, when the subject of those thoughts - Figaro - is sprawled right there.
Gepard scowls at the question.]
Isn't it more your problem than it is mine? [It's not as if he licks himself all the time.] I wasn't even aware I tasted that foul until you brought it up. I would've thought I'd taste...well. Normal.
[And instead, he tastes so foul that Figaro's making eyes at Dunn...terrible.]