bakerstreet | The Bathhouse Meme

[Yanno, as bad as the shadow bathhouse was, this place is kinda nice. Steam isn't scary or oppressive, and leaning back in this sauna with a wet washcloth on her face is pretty soothing.]

[Flynn is currently bathing in a refreshing pool of warm water, his arms up against the edge of the pool, his head leaning back, and his eyes closed in pure relaxed bliss.

Also, he's naked.

And he thinks he's alone.

What do?]

*Add an unfamiliar redheaded(ish) genius, waltzing right into the water on the other side and looking more than a bit annoyed.*

[Flynn can hear the new presence entering, and he can sense the frustration, and he lazily opens his eyes and favors the girl with a kind smile.]

Is there something wrong, Miss?

[ .....3

2.....

1....]

[And then realization hits.]

M-MISS!?

[With a yell upon realizing that, holy crap, there's a girl in the boys bath, Flynn's hands plunge into the water to quickly cover up his exposed private parts as he turns a bright shade of red.]

Stupid Cheria sending me out here when I could be working on shotstaff designs...

*Aaaaand she's too busy mumbling, grumbling, and did I mention being naked to even notice Flynn.

And Flynn thought RITA was bad...*

[Not true. Rita would have set him on fire by now.]

Um... M-miss? I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's been some kind of misunderstanding. This is the mens bath...

*Point. The mun plays both at different games...*

Your point being?

U-um... Don't you think this is... somewhat improper?

[And Flynn's thinking there might be something in the water since he has the weirdest boner right now which he is trying desperately to keep covered...]

Sheesh, it's just bathing.

In a large sauna, Michael Westen unwraps the thick white towel from around his waist and hangs it near the bench before pouring a generous amount of water over the rocks - letting it steam before relaxing the treated wooden bench.

Unabashed, he closes his eyes and listens to the low sizzle of water on the hot stones and the idle chatter and footsteps of strangers - allowing himself to relax as much as he ever does under the relative anonymity of the public baths.

((Read your prefs, Rhys is a pretty laid-back switch if that works. :) Seen you around and thought you looked interesting!))

The door opens with a tentative creak, revealing a young man also clad in just a towel. He offers a lopsided smile, dark eyebrows cocked in question as he stands there with an extra towel rolled under one arm. Dampness already sheens his bare, tattoo-covered chest and arms and makes the silver rings in his ears and through both nipples glint in the dim light, and the look under heavy-lidded eyes is clearly appreciative.

"Hey. Interested in a little company?"

The spy's head tilts slightly toward the sound of the opening door and his eyes open just enough to see the younger man enter the otherwise quiet room. After an appreciative glance, he replies casually; "Sure, why not?"

It's an open answer, he knows what a lot of men are looking for here - and while he'd never say he was there just for a good time he wouldn't necessarily turn it down either.

"I'm Michael," he offers as the guy makes himself comfortable, shifting against the warm wooden bench to hold out his hand.

He's in good shape, lean but with toned and clearly trained muscle. A few scars are visible; healed wounds from knife slashes and gunshots - some old and faded and others still pink, but no other identifying marks. He likes to be hard to identify, like he could be any random guy.

Rhys eases into the steam-filled room and lets the door thump shut behind him, leaving the rolled extra towel off to the side and sauntering across to sit on the bench and take the offered hand. Good handshake, confident, lingering just a second in suggestion without being grabby. "Rhys. Nice to meet you."

He takes in the scars with a thoughtful look, though just a brief, passing gaze considering the body lines are *much* more interesting, and drops his own towel. Lean build, about five-ten, decent shape, but probably not a fighter, not with all those rings and long hair. From all the inkwork, an artist, maybe? He settles onto the bench with a long, languid stretch and smile. "Hot tubs here are pretty damn fantastic, too," by way of casual conversation.

Michael knows that look when he sees it, and lets himself take a much longer look at the younger man - and sure, he's pretty easy on the eyes. Not exactly the kind of guy he expected to meet in a bathhouse, but it did take all kinds. He was there, after all.

"I'm sure they are, but I like my privacy." It's another open statement, begging the genuinely interested to assume he's cruising stealth - and the apathetic to brush him off as another guy looking for a quiet steam.

Rhys nods, his already open and friendly body language relaxing a little more, the last bit of reserve going from his shoulders as he flips his hair, currently braided for convenience, out of the way. Even in a place like this, better to make sure one's advances were welcome, after all.

He tips his head back, reveling in the heat for a few seconds of pure, un-self-conscious pleasure (and letting Michael look as he liked) before he opens his eyes and looks back at him.

"Like that, myself. Of course, privacy *and* attractive company, that's got possibilities." There's a flash of silver behind his grin as he slouches against the wooden wall, turned sideways so that his closest knee is just a few inches from Michael's now that he knows they're on the same page. He leaves the contact at that for now, though, as he settles into their now-shared privacy, looking for a better read off the more reserved man as he soaks up the heat and certainly not opposed to...not exactly small talk, but at least a little bit of companionship first.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Michael looks down at himself with a slightly amused smirk. His guess had been right, there was definitely more than a quiet steam in the air.

Michael lets his knees fall a little more open, brushing purposefully against the other man. A delicate dance; 'do you want it?' 'yes, I do'. "Mmm, can't disagree with that... I see at least a little potential. Though, flattery isn't necessary. There's better things to do with your mouth."

It's forward, purposeful, and he hopes enough to be sure the guy's actually serious. Sometimes the guys in the baths aren't so certain that's what they want - and when actually faced with a quick, nearly anonymous chance they back out.

That gets a quiet laugh, too, from Rhys, acknowledging the game, such as it is. And Michael's directness seems very much welcome- rather than fleeing, Rhys meets his eyes, heavy-lidded with intent, and closes that last bit of distance with his hand on Michael's leg when it brushes against his own, thumb stroking the hollow of his knee. Polite, yes, but definitely not afraid to be direct, either.

Sly and completely self-possessed, he tilts his head in question. "Well, if you've got any suggestions, I'm open to 'em...or, you could just make yourself comfortable..." his gaze slides downward again, traveling a path over Michael's chest, stomach and lower, indicating that if his companion doesn't have anything specific in mind, then Rhys can certainly find ways to entertain himself.

Michael doesn't shy away from the touch, but he lets himself take a long moment to warm to the other man's touch - considering his suggestion.

"I like comfortable..." he replies with an easy smile before turning slightly toward him and reaching out to touch his cheek before brushing a small, almost chaste kiss against his lips. The kiss is coupled with a strong, steady palm sliding up the younger man's inner thigh to rest at the joint of his hip.

"Good to know there's no rush, then." His voice is soft in the close, warm space, and Rhys tips his head just a little into Michael's hand, letting him know the tenderness is welcome. He's not in a hurry, either, and his return kiss is just as feather-light, lips parted only enough to let out a small sigh as he feels that confident hand moving up the inside of his leg and pausing teasingly close to more sensitive things.

His own hand glides up the other man's thigh from where it rests on his knee, testing the strength and silently impressed. Good shape, very good shape, and to further confirm that, he lifts his hand to trail fingers over Michael's chest, too, tracing down well-honed muscle, neither lingering on nor ignoring scars and following that tentative touch with an approving smile and firmer caress of palm.

"No rush at all," Michael's smile stretches, creasing the corners of his eyes as he pushes into the welcome touch. As much of a failure as he is at true intimacy, he's well versed in the delicate art of making something impersonal seem intimate. And for him, it's enough.

His palm squeezes gently at Rhys' inner thigh as he kisses him again, a little more confidently than before. His tongue glides along the younger man's lower lip, barely tasting him as he closes the small remaining distance between them.

It's only then that he lets the back of knuckles brush against his cock, barely teasing the soft length. No hurry at all... he liked to take his time and make things last.

And for Rhys, well...he's not a hard book to read. Quite easy, in fact, for anyone with any experience at it- someone who simply likes people and is happy to indulge in the pleasure of the moment. Outside, it'd be easy to see him as a chatty bartender or tattoo artist, someone in a job where their sociability could be a benefit.

And as much as Rhys is content to let Michael lead the dance, his hands are still confident as they explore over bare skin, lips just as quick to meet his kisses. He gives a little sigh as Michael closes the last inches between them, a twitch stirring his cock at the lightest not-quite-accidental brush and knees parting a little further and hips shifting in reflexive encouragement.

That gets a breathy laugh from him, and Rhys's tongue darts out to meet Michael's, inviting more exploration and doing a tiny bit of teasing himself with the brief flash of tongue stud. Still gentle, he returns the last kiss with a nibble at Michael's lower lip, following it with a light, skilled trace with the barbell's bead before working back up to something soft and full as his hand finds the older man's leg to steady himself.

It's been a while since he's been with someone pierced, but he knows the slide of metal against his tongue and it draws a smile across his lips as well as renewed fervor. He's good, at least his tongue is, and Michael's sure that it isn't the only thing he'll appreciate.

His body pushes closer and his hand reflexively closes over Rhys' cock, stroking him gentle and slow. "It's been a while..." he murmurs, breaking off the kiss with an appreciative sigh; "feels good."

Rhys melts against Michael's body for more skin contact, leg pressed against leg and cock starting to rise at the sensation of strong, warm fingers around it, the feel of the other man's toned body under his own hands, and the delicious little thrill of anticipation that's been there all along. A soft, breathy purr escapes him to let Michael know he definitely likes that, if his body's response weren't enough indication, and he peers up with a smirk.

"Mmm. Been a while...that mean I should go easy on you?" Half teasing, eyes glittering in the subdued light of the sauna, he dips his head and starts kissing his way to the corner of the taller man's jaw, inhaling the scent of clean, tanned skin and fresh sweat as he explores his way down the sensitive skin to where neck joins shoulder. Then, almost in counter to his own previous statement: "Mmm. Strong. I like that."

Michael wants to laugh, but instead he breathes; "No. As hard as you can." His eyes half-lidded, he lets out another soft sigh and leans to allow him even more access to his neck to feel even more of that warm mouth on his skin.

His grip tightens, stroking faster - enjoying the familiar ease of a man's touch. Not just any guy, but a guy that knows what he wants - knows what he's doing. "Hurt me... if you can."

Rhys likes the invitation in those words, the doors they open, even if there's a moment where he might have laughed. Though there's not a tremendous size difference between the two men, there's no question who would have the upper hand on who, if it came down to it- Those scars and muscles tell a story, after all.

So there's a bit of amusement in his voice when he murmurs back, "If I can," in between kisses and nips of that skin he swears he can taste the sun on.

But Rhys understands other things, too, the secret rules to these games and what draws him to men like Michael in the first place: intensity, and that, he can certainly give in return. The newly-offered stretch of Michael's neck is far too tempting to pass over, and after a few slow, teasing licks, teeth find and catch the sensitive flesh, suckling and biting just enough to draw heat before Michael's firm, rhythmic grip on his cock get too distracting, and he has to look up again, fully hard now and breath coming in a shaky laugh as his hips twitch into the strokes.

Bolder, and now close enough that there isn't much of anyplace else to go short of moving right into the other man's lap, he deftly slides his own hand down to Michael's cock, giving an appreciative murmur as his fingers curl around the length to get his full attention. And, possibly, to lure him into either letting Rhys pull him down with him onto the bench, or nudge him backward into a more comfortable position.

The Bathhouse Meme

Rule63!Kanji Tatsumi| Persona 4| OTA and REALLY open for castmates.

Flynn Scifo || Tales of Vesperia || M/F

Re: Flynn Scifo || Tales of Vesperia || M/F

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Michael Westen | Burn Notice | OTA

If you're okay with a backtag?

Always! Though I'm a bit slow atm, so patience with me?

Not a problem! Take your time. :)

<3

And, sorry for the delay myself, was out of town for a couple days. :)

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