[ His head ducks as his habits are pisted back to him, a small smile on his face that teeters between fondness and mild disbelief. Logan shakes his head, then steps out of the shower whilst nabbing the towel hanging on its rack. ] People really judge sexual preferences by someone's personality?
[ Drying himself off, he keeps his feet on the carpet. Logan takes precursory sniffs of himself and lets out a self-satisfied noise about Jean-Paul's scent lingering pleasantly. ]
Hn... you can bring whatever you want, too. Tons of space.
[ When Jean-Paul walks out, Logan tosses the towel at him. ]
They really do. It's stupid, but people aren't that bright. They see a big burly guy who can beat people up and go, oh, he must be dominant all d'time.
[He catches the towel and dries off quickly, moving to hang it up before he steps close to Logan. He wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his neck.]
Warrior wit' a poet's soul. That's you. My big ol' kitty cat.
[ Still, the nuzzling makes him purr again. Logan nudges at Jean-Paul's brow with his nose to get him to pull back a bit, then kisses him on the lips, hands settling on his waist just to tickle a little.
When he pulls away, he walks backwards into the bedroom again and tugs Jean-Paul with him. ]
You [ kiss ] have to put pants on. Sometimes I get kids knockin' in the morning.
Dinner. [ He pulls a new set of underwear on, and then some striped pyjama pants. ] You want me to come in suit and tie?
[ Because he hasn't forgotten. In direct contrast to fancy whatever, though, Logan pulls a plain shirt on. He shakes his head quickly, stray drops of water flicking in all directions, and then leaves his hair to pop back up into their regular points. ]
[Jean-Paul doesn't smile a lot in public, unless he's off skiing or flying or something of that sort. Smirk, sure, but the dawning look of pure delight he gives Logan at the very mention of a suit is not something anybody else is likely to see.]
If you want to. I wasn't going to make it that formal, but. ...there's a good Italian place. Not too pretentious.
[The very second he flops down Jean-Paul is curled around him.]
Stupid hair. I have one hundred percent made fun of it, oh, a billion times? Over the years. Joke's on me, now I think it looks great. God I hate myself, sometimes.
I promise you'll find somet'ing that you like. And there's good wine.
[ Off-handedly, Logan comments, ] I like peach wine.
[ He dips his head to kiss the top of Jean-Paul's, though, an arm wrapping protectively around him, holding him close. ]
We'll go tomorrow. [ His middle finger traces light circles into Jean-Paul's belly, arm slung lazily. ] An' I'll wear the suit. But the hair really can't go down.
Really? I'll buy you some. [Because to Jean-Paul it's that easy. Logan likes a thing? He will get the thing. He doesn't stop to consider how people might view this casual show of wealth, or that maybe Logan's not going to want to get everything he asks for.]
Okay. Mmmmm. I don't mind. ...suit'll be nice. [His eyes close, his body apparently deciding it should sleep.]
[ It's the way Jean-Paul's voice goes a little slurred that has Logan lifting his head enough to peek down at him, and with his expression softening at the sight of him ready to snooze, he lets out a fond little huff of breath. ] It'll be nice.
[ It doesn't matter if Jean-Paul hasn't heard him. Logan uses his toes to grab the blanket, tugging it out as carefully as he can from under them both, and then moves it to be over them next, nice and snug.
He doesn't let Jean-Paul go, instead kissing the top of his head affectionately. He lingers a few beats, just taking the scent of him in, before he settles as well-- eyes closed, smile on his lips.
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Driving a truck listening to John Denver, wearing flannel. THIS is why people think you're a top. But good on you for not conforming to stereotypes.
If I'm gonna use your shower often, I intend to bring product.
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[ Drying himself off, he keeps his feet on the carpet. Logan takes precursory sniffs of himself and lets out a self-satisfied noise about Jean-Paul's scent lingering pleasantly. ]
Hn... you can bring whatever you want, too. Tons of space.
[ When Jean-Paul walks out, Logan tosses the towel at him. ]
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[He catches the towel and dries off quickly, moving to hang it up before he steps close to Logan. He wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his neck.]
Warrior wit' a poet's soul. That's you. My big ol' kitty cat.
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[ Still, the nuzzling makes him purr again. Logan nudges at Jean-Paul's brow with his nose to get him to pull back a bit, then kisses him on the lips, hands settling on his waist just to tickle a little.
When he pulls away, he walks backwards into the bedroom again and tugs Jean-Paul with him. ]
You [ kiss ] have to put pants on. Sometimes I get kids knockin' in the morning.
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[He grins at the tickling, then follows, eyebrow raised a little.]
Mmmm. Can't traumatise them. [He sits on the freshly made bed, ignoring the request.]
I'll be up before the kids anyway. I've got to be in the office for nine. You wanna get dinner tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out.
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[ Because he hasn't forgotten. In direct contrast to fancy whatever, though, Logan pulls a plain shirt on. He shakes his head quickly, stray drops of water flicking in all directions, and then leaves his hair to pop back up into their regular points. ]
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If you want to. I wasn't going to make it that formal, but. ...there's a good Italian place. Not too pretentious.
...goddamn I love your stupid hair.
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So he snorts and sits on the bed instead, then thumps his back onto it. ]
I like the pasta with milk in it. [ His brows furrow. ] ...is that real Italian? Hn.
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Stupid hair. I have one hundred percent made fun of it, oh, a billion times? Over the years. Joke's on me, now I think it looks great. God I hate myself, sometimes.
I promise you'll find somet'ing that you like. And there's good wine.
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[ He dips his head to kiss the top of Jean-Paul's, though, an arm wrapping protectively around him, holding him close. ]
We'll go tomorrow. [ His middle finger traces light circles into Jean-Paul's belly, arm slung lazily. ] An' I'll wear the suit. But the hair really can't go down.
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Okay. Mmmmm. I don't mind. ...suit'll be nice. [His eyes close, his body apparently deciding it should sleep.]
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[ It doesn't matter if Jean-Paul hasn't heard him. Logan uses his toes to grab the blanket, tugging it out as carefully as he can from under them both, and then moves it to be over them next, nice and snug.
He doesn't let Jean-Paul go, instead kissing the top of his head affectionately. He lingers a few beats, just taking the scent of him in, before he settles as well-- eyes closed, smile on his lips.
Yeah. Sleep is a good idea. ]