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The address that Cian texts Jasper is in Society Hill. Somehow, he's managed to find a basement apartment in one of the historic brick houses that line the cobbled streets, with a wrought iron gate and steps that lead down, under the main entrance, to a solid wooden door. The one window is barred with the same decorative wrought iron, and light shines dimly through semi-opaque curtains. Enough to let people know someone's home, but not enough to let them see inside.
Jasper's that sort to let Cian know he's coming by his heartbeat. Already warmed, and taking the moment at the door. Sliding hands over his hair to make the ponytail nice and smooth. Cleaning his glasses. Waiting a moment, just a moment, to knock on that door.
When the door is opened, Jasper has dressed to the nines. Breeches, full high collar shirt, vest, and a bouquet in hand. The bouquet in hand is... strange and tied together in red silk ribbon that weaves together the bright and light yellow daffodil with a more strand set of woodier stem in a more pink flower on them - the dog rose? And a more unique flower dotted here and there. If one was familiar, the ipomaca.
He holds it out with a smile.
The daffodil is something of a hands-off flower. It's best for using in regards to respect for another, or sending your regards. Sometimes, it's with unrequited love. The dog rose is both pleasure and pain. The ipomaca is hardly used, but can be seen as something of a familiarity between others. And, of course, the complexity of the arrangement may mean something, but that has implications on those who make the arrangement...
Meanwhile, Cian waits to Blush himself until half a second before he opens the door, making the slightly rapid beating of his heart less noticeable. At least, until he takes in the view of Jasper, and his flowers, and a blush grows on his cheeks, his heart rate increasing still more. He's dressed in his usual tight pants and loose-fitting shirt, the sleeves rolled up. It's open to his upper chest, and he's tied a loose sort of neckerchief around his neck - bright blue, a pop of color against his otherwise neutral clothes, and nearly the same shade as his eyes.
"I...feel slightly underdressed..." He gives Jasper an apologetic smile as he takes the flowers, running a gentle finger along the petals of the daffodil. "An unconventional arrangement, but...fitting, I suppose." His smile warms slightly, and he offers a hand to Jasper to lead him into the apartment.
Jasper takes that hand with a smile as his eyes drift to the drop of color about the other's neck. "Interesting. Most I've run across tend to keep them in their back pockets these days," he notes before leaning in for a small cheek kiss. Then his eyes are better focused on the place itself...
Cian huffs out a quiet laugh, his cheeks warming still more at the comment and the kiss, and he follows Jasper's eyes around the place.
The most immediately obvious things are the books. On dark wood bookshelves that surround the living space, on the small, plush couch (really a loveseat), on the floor, on the counters of the obviously unused kitchen...Mostly history books, of course. A range of ages and subjects, and a variety of nonfiction as well.
Jasper slowly made his way inside if not lead, curiosity being what it was. He clasped his hands together behind himself, looking back to Cian before allowing himself free range to look through books and topics, lifting them and thoroughly cataloguing the sailor's interests if not stopped. It might feel like a terrible amount of inspection on one's haven, an intimacy that isn't so intimate.
It takes Cian a moment to find an appropriate container for the bouquet, and gives Jasper the time to look at his library. Jasper will find the bookshelves organized by category, then alphabetical by author, and an entire case devoted to lgbtq+ history. Another bookcase is full of fiction - romances, a shelf of erotica. Still another has art books, a visual component to the thousands upon thousands of words that fill the place.
"What have you found?" Cian sidles up behind Jasper and puts a gentle hand on his side.
"That you have a not insignificant amount of pornography fixating on mermaids and sailors. The sailors expected, the mermaids perhaps unfortunate." A pause as Jasper considers. "Well, merfolk. Is that the correct term? You've clearly spent some time studying up to catch up on the time you spent in Eclipse."
"Aha." This laugh is a little embarrassed. "It's rather unfortunate, given the current situation, absolutely. I've always been interested in history, and I enjoy learning in general. I would spend the entirety of my nights reading, if I could."
There is one section of bookshelf, in front of the couch, that's missing a few shelves, replaced by a small flat screen television. Modern, sure, but the setup is pretty simple.
"Don't worry. The judgment will come later, when I'm seated around discussing the lycans with the other Invictus as we have a fancy party above some poor elders just trying to have some peaceful time in torpor, but there seem to be annoying false power grabs happening," comments Jasper.
"Have you seen the Underworld series? Finley has shown them to me. They're surprisingly accurate in some ways. Bad bullets though. Sunlight in a bullet. I love that someone's filtering in these delightful flights of fancy and lies."
"Good to know - I'm sure your fellow Invictus will find me wanting, as a Carthian." Cian flashes Jasper a grin. "I have seen a few. Not all, I don't think. Perhaps we'll have to have a repeat of this evening in the future, and watch them."
"Perhaps so," says Jasper before turning fully towards the Savage to eye over. "Opinions vary on the Carthian Movement, but in my day, revolutions came as a result of injustice. I can understand the mentality, even if I think there are other things more pressing in our need." He holds up a hand. "I didn't mean to get into politics. I apologize."
"No harm done." Cian gently takes Jasper's hand and raises it to his lips, his grin turning to something softer, warmer. "I appreciate that you can see our side of things, even if you've chosen to spend your energy elsewhere. Not everyone is so forgiving."
"The traditions need to be upheld, and our histories still hold sway and importance. I think you might even agree about such a thing," he comments with a smirk.
"It's true, I might." He nods and takes a step forward, into Jasper's personal space, but doesn't more to kiss him, or do anything more than hold the hand he's just kissed. "Are you still in the mood for a movie? Or are you enjoying yourself poking about my books?" There's no trace of judgement, just open curiosity.
"I suppose it depends how much time I've got. Books can let me have a deep insight into your mind, but the movie, presumably, has an added bonus of sitting close and from time to time... necking? Is that still a term used?" notes Jasper.
Cian arches an eyebrow at the other Kindred. "Does the terminology matter to you that much? I would much prefer sitting close, whether we're reading or watching all the myriad ways the movie upholds the Masquerade..."
"Of course. Having that singular moment where someone just pauses to consider how you're out of place is a quirk. Having an entire set of antiquated ways becomes an issue. It's why I've been watching significant..." Jasper trails there a moment. "Yes, let's watch the movie."
"Significant...?" Cian's eyebrow slides higher as he moves to set up the movie. "I suppose I tend not to bother, and use my job as an excuse if someone gets too nosy."
Jasper finds himself on the loveseat, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up. "Youtube. Are you familiar?"
Cian is still mostly focused on the TV, but he glances back at Jasper with a nod. "I am, yes. There are more than a few channels devoted to education, in a way that speaks to me."
There's guilt. So much guilt, and nerves, but he deserves all that, doesn't he? And he wants Jasper desperately, though he's making an effort to hold himself back.
"I've found a number of them are quite educational. I even learned how to spoof an RFID chip to bypass it from a penetration specialist," notes Jasper before he pats the loveseat next to him. "Now come here. I can't wait to be close to you, even if it's building so much anticipation." A soft smile there - the slightest lift of his lips that counts for it off the studious one.
"I...have no idea what that means," Cian says with a laugh, and means it. "Are you anticipating the movie? Or anticipating not watching it?" He smiles back, the casual flirting covering his racing mind. Second guessing himself, about what Jasper wants. Half wanting to tell the Mekhet the whole truth, that the past fifteen years have been his only years spent Embraced.
"Mmmmm... I did search the movie. A comedy? Should be a laugh. Though I imagine I may get a bit distracted," as he looks over the other as if undressing him once again with his eyes. "I admit I'd wondered briefly if the kerchief about your neck indicated a different suck you sought given its color used back before."
Cian's face turns pink again at the blatant eyefuck, and he lets out a laugh. So, so, nervous... "It was not my intention to make that implication, though it isn't an incorrect one..." He's flirting with danger and it feels so good, and he runs his gaze up and down Jasper quickly as he walks back over to sit on the couch.
The done up Mekhet puts an arm around Cian to pull him in closer still. He reaches up to tug free the kerchief and reach across the sailor to tuck it into his left pocket before looking back to the TV. "Go ahead and start it. I want to hear something besides your heart pushing all of that forbidden nectar about in your veins."
"It's a pity that even the loudest sound system won't block that out," Cian murmurs, shifting closer and giving Jasper a soft kiss on the cheek. "The distraction will help?"
"It will," he murmurs before he slides fingers up through the other's hair and over his thigh to start getting comfortable and building anticipation as they watched... What We Do In The Shadows.
Nothing sexier than a farcical documentary about vampires, right? And Cian tries to focus on the movie. He really does. But Jesus Christ if there aren't so many distractions - Jasper, the crushing weight of guilt, the terror that Jasper will see through his rapidly crumbling facade, the way Jasper's hand rests against the back of his head...his racing thoughts are probably enough to distract Jasper, too. Especially since Cian doesn't seem to be able to decide what to do. Kiss the Mekhet? Is that too much, too far, too soon?
"You know," murmurs Jasper into the other's ear after allowing the man plenty of time to agonize before planting his lips on his neck. "There's a cultural practice these days allowing for casual intimacy. Netflix and chill. Considering our bodies are naturally cold, maybe we need our own terms."
A small nip at the other's neck. "Tonight, I'd like to take things... to the next level on my part."
Cian shivers, and melts into Jasper's side, melting into the danger that he's so useless to resist. "Do you have terms in mind, for what we do? For what we..." he pauses, anticipation building. Fear building. The self hatred of knowing just how much he wants to feel the sting of Jasper's teeth at his throat building, overwhelming... "For what we will do?"
"I'd call it a Kiss. A sweet thing, one that perhaps might not be..." Those lips linger at Cian's throat a moment as he drags his teeth across skin. "... societally acceptable, but when have we cared about that? We've had to live through much." He takes Cian's hand to guide to press against his beating heart. "It's our own form of making love. May I, Cian Doyle?"
No. No no no no. Cian takes in a slow breath, and lets it out just as slowly as he presses his hand against Jasper's chest. He wants it - it could ruin so much, and he wants it anyway. His other hand drifts up to pet Jasper's hair, trembling slightly, and he takes another breath.
"Yes." It comes out in a rush. "Yes."
Nothing else was needed. The Mekhet placed his Kiss soft and tender against the rushing pulse there in the 'elder's' neck. He had the chance to push the other back, but when it didn't come, what arrived in its place was a twin set of small pinpricks into flesh.
With it came the taboo of the Kiss upon another Kindred. That aching rush of hungry need and lightning through one's body as vitae was pulled with gusto through Cian's veins. Pushing the other down onto the loveseat for a much more intimate pose, never breaking the Kiss. Arms, hands exploring, demanding, but more than that came Jasper's whimper. The shudder of his body as so much of that vitae poured memory and information and being into the Mnemosyne...
The lines crossed. Tied by red strings to seal them together. A bond, yes, but one chosen, and by the sounds of it, enjoyed so thoroughly by the one being bound that it bordered the place between religious and sexual ecstasy. Every drop savored for what it was...
Cian can't keep a small whine from escaping his lips, when those teeth break skin, and he tangles a hand into Jasper's hair, wrecking the neat ponytail. Holding the Mekhet close. He falls backwards with a moan, his free arm moving to tug the back of Jasper's shirt up, his whole body tense as Jasper drinks deep. Desire drowns out nearly everything else. It's everything he wants, everything he's been afraid of, and his eye close as he trembles under the other man.
Jasper pulls back, leaving the wound there for a moment so that he can look over Cian as he slides his hands over the Gangrel, looking down with lust as he cleans his teeth and mouth with a searching tongue. "Mmmmm... Just what was expected, neonate."
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