Gepard had a plan. It was a pretty decent one, one which entailed hiding like some slavering half-feral creature waiting for Sampo to get close enough so he could tackle him, after which they could have homoerotic makeouts, which might lead to other things. Maybe. Possibly. If he's in a good mood and Sampo's convincing enough, and also if nobody else showed up, and maybe, maybe, maybe, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
So he's there. He's lurking, skulking about in the shadows, and then down comes Sampo in a...
...suit? A pink suit, no less. And Gepard knows what he should do, which is to not fall for the bait, wait patiently, and try for the tackle, and otherwise manhandle Sampo because Sampo made him waltz and fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.
But there is what he should do, and what he wants to do, and Gepard wavers indecisively for a moment, before- ah, well, they can take turns falling for each other's bait. His head pokes out of hiding. He's here, they both knew that this was one of those traps in which everyone took turns falling for it, he can skip the fanfare.]
What are you wearing, Koski?
[Wait, that sounded way too disapproving...]
You look- it's a nice color on you. [Terrible.] You look- [Fuck, he's so bad at this.] You look handsome. It's just I didn't- I'm just going to make a mess of things if I keep on talking.
[And here he is, half-crouched like he's some feral thing that's going to maul Sampo and why did he think he knew how to handle this sort of situation?]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-08-22 08:09 pm (UTC)See.
Gepard had a plan. It was a pretty decent one, one which entailed hiding like some slavering half-feral creature waiting for Sampo to get close enough so he could tackle him, after which they could have homoerotic makeouts, which might lead to other things. Maybe. Possibly. If he's in a good mood and Sampo's convincing enough, and also if nobody else showed up, and maybe, maybe, maybe, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
So he's there. He's lurking, skulking about in the shadows, and then down comes Sampo in a...
...suit? A pink suit, no less. And Gepard knows what he should do, which is to not fall for the bait, wait patiently, and try for the tackle, and otherwise manhandle Sampo because Sampo made him waltz and fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.
But there is what he should do, and what he wants to do, and Gepard wavers indecisively for a moment, before- ah, well, they can take turns falling for each other's bait. His head pokes out of hiding. He's here, they both knew that this was one of those traps in which everyone took turns falling for it, he can skip the fanfare.]
What are you wearing, Koski?
[Wait, that sounded way too disapproving...]
You look- it's a nice color on you. [Terrible.] You look- [Fuck, he's so bad at this.] You look handsome. It's just I didn't- I'm just going to make a mess of things if I keep on talking.
[And here he is, half-crouched like he's some feral thing that's going to maul Sampo and why did he think he knew how to handle this sort of situation?]