aviary | OPEN | prompt three

Oh no, silence never indicates enjoyment. Not in my experience, anyway.

[ His ears pinken. ]

I'm not exactly sure that's what they, ehm. What they meant.

I tend to prefer taking my own meaning.

[But he's noticed those ears of yours, Sazerac. They do tend to be unmissable like that.]

We could always discuss how some people like a little pain, instead.

[ There are ways in which Curacao reminds Sazerac of his older brother and other was in which he decidedly doesn't. The way in which he thinks highly of himself is an example of the former, while that touch of playfulness to him (even when he's being cruel) is decidedly the later.

He shuffles his feet. ]

I thought. [ Sazerac gives a little glane around. ] I thought they don't do that sort of thing. [ Nearer the top shelf, he means. A bit naive on his part, to say the least. ]

[It's really quite difficult for Curacao not to just laugh at him when he shows his naivety so easily. But maybe it was commendable, to be working in such a place and still be so green.]

You really need to rethink these little thoughts of yours, my friend. [He reaches to pat his shoulder, friendly, reassuring, but the curve of his smile as he leans in closer is much sharper.] They do every sort of thing.

[ Maybe it's commendable, but maybe it's also a bit laughable and maybe even sad. No one would blame the other liquors in wondering how exactly Sazerac got here in the first place, though the nearest available guess (Absinthe) would be a good place to start.

He smiles, albeit nervously, when Curacao leans in. ] All of them?

[Considering his own background, Curacao was never one to judge where a fellow liquor might have come from. And maybe Sazerac didn't seem best suited to this life, but he was clearly trying his best, and Curacao can't fault him for that.

But he also can't help teasing him as much as possible. It really was far too easy to get those ears turning pink, and it only left Curacao curious how far, if pushed, that blush might go. He presses in the last of the space between them, drops a kiss - lingering, it wouldn't do to have it be too quick - on the corner of Sazerac's mouth.]

Well, there are a few things I can think of that we typically don't accommodate.

[ Sazerac may not be very good at what he does — it may not come naturally or with so much as a modicum of finesse — but no one can ever say that he doesn't try. He's heard it enough times from his brother to understand what it is that's expected of him, and Sazerac — ever grateful and ever the younger brother — has done all that he can to make-up for his inadequacies. In many ways it's what his customers like best about him and what makes them call upon him a second time and a third, even after he's proven to be a bit graceless. There is an earnestness that cannot be faked, a sense that he is eager to please despite his lack of execution.

Almost on instinct, when Curacao leans in to kiss him, Sazerac turns his face towards him even though his cheeks burn. He half expects Curacao to continue, like he's just picked up the plot mid-sentence and he's been left to trip along after. It takes Sazerac a moment and a half to realize after-the-fact oh, that just happened. With a hand he scrubs at his face. His skin is so warm is prickles uncomfortably. ]

I'm— [ He clears his throat, his chin dipped down as he looks at Curacao and then again, his fingers still pressing into his cheek. ] I'm not sure I want to know.

[Curacao has always been a curious one. Rather hungry in it, really, never content to be warned away. It was curiosity that had led him to the liquor cabinet in the first place, curiosity that made him wonder what happened behind the closed doors belonging to the other liquors. Some he had found out for himself, while others still remained a mystery.

Sazerac was one of the latter. Such a nervous little thing, and yet still here, still seeing clients - repeat clients. Maybe they had the same reaction to seeing those ears pinken as Curacao did, and teasing to see just how red Sazerac might turn was easy. But the way he turned into the kiss was interesting, the way he seemed to be waiting for Curacao to continue, lost for a moment before he caught up to the fact Curacao had spoken again. It was tempting to continue, with a reaction like that, but Curacao did have some restraint, for his reputation and manner.]

When you say it like that, it just makes me want to tell you.

[Restraint, but he still lifts a hand, following the line of Sazerac's fingers until the backs of his own are touching Sazerac's cheek, feeling how warm his skin is now with that flush to it.]

OPEN | prompt three | PAIN

curaçao | nine witches

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