My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk. (somekindofcross) wrote in wildefic,
My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
somekindofcross
wildefic

Bosie/Robbie fic.

Where all my Bosie/Robbie fangirls at, huh?

Anyway, my friend and I wrote this RP today when we were very bored, and I wanted to post it here for your entertainment. We're both WAY out of practice on this fandom and its chronology but simply enjoyed it, and at some points it's slow, but it's fun enough and it made us squee when we were writing it. There may be typos - I didn't edit extremely well. And I APOLOGIZE that it ends when it does! We'll post more tomorrow, most likely.

This is my first entry here. I hope everyone enjoys it.




BOSIE:
I paid off the hansom, stepping as gracefully as possible from the carriage of the cab and very nearly bumping into a woman with her small child. She glared slightly at me, and I sighed, giving a light shrug in her direction, but she'd already gone. Perhaps if she hadn't been chasing her child about, she could've watched where she was going. I strolled into the grand dining room of the hotel, a favorite place of ours, eager to find him and find what the surprise was. Perhaps the gilded cufflinks I eyed in the window last week, and said that I'd rather like? He rarely denied me when I expressed interest in anything, which I found somewhat foolish of him at times, but I could not complain. I'd never been treated so well in all my life. I craned my neck, peering uneasily at the tables of well-dressed diners, and grew somewhat frustrated when I did not spot him. He was late often, which I'd anticipated and therefore arrived somewhat late myself. But he was not here. I was turning to leave, perhaps to seek him in another restaurant just two blocks away, and a man bumped into my shoulder as he entered the dining room. "Excuse me," I muttered, determined to be seen as more poilite here than I'd bothered with in the street, and when he turned to answer, recognition - annoyed, vile recognition - flooded me. I raised my chin slightly, only just taller than he was, and gave him an impassive gaze. "Fancy seeing you here. I was just about to catch supper with Oscar." Emphasis on the 'I', meaning very much that Robbie was not invited.

ROBBIE:
This came to me as a shock, of course. A big shock. I had been invited, not him. He had to be lying, of course, which was not surprising -- just what I expected of him. Either that, or he had managed to convince Oscar to let him join us, and once again Oscar had given into his childish tantrums; this was something I never understood. "I beg your pardon?", I asked, slightly bewildered, for a brief moment wondering if I had misheard him, or if it was part of some strange dream. "If anybody is catching supper with him this evening, that would be me. I do not know what childish schemes you have employed to persuade him to let you join us -- if your claims are even remotely true, which I very much doubt." I could feel myself getting physically sick, as I tried to contain my anger. My jealousy, though of course I would never admit to this, not to Bosie and certainly not to Oscar, either. With an "excuse me", I walked into the room, trying to find Oscar among the diners; failing to see him, I could feel myself getting anxious though I did not show this, silently praying that he would be here soon.

BOSIE:
I glared daggers at the back of his head, wishing to set his long, pretty hair alight. I felt my lips frowning as I tried to figure this out. Why would Robbie be here? Surely Oscar would not have invited him to join us. I could accept that he and Robbie were close - well, no, I couldn't, but I would have to. But Oscar had learned last week that there was no sense in he and I being near each other, as someone inevitably said something to pique the other's anger. What was it, exactly, that Oscar had said? There has got to be some way that you boys can get along. Really, it is worse than Cyril and Vyvyan's bickering - at least with children they have all the element of surprise and volume in their fights. You two stand about and talk behind each other's backs in hushed tones, like conspiring grandmothers. It's much less interesting. I wonder what would indeed happen were you both, like bulls, to be placed in a ring and given free reign to your emotions. Oh, that........Bosie sighed again, gritting his teeth. Perhaps Oscar had planned this? Or was hiding behind a table and menu, closely watching the proceedings and holding back the faintest giggle? He must've planned this. Had to have. And some ring! Place us in the finest restaurant in the square, and let us hash it out in public? Surely he'd hear it all in gossip the next day. Bugger this. I was about to leave Robbie to look stupidly about, when a maitre'd tapped me upon the shoulder. "Lord Alfred Douglas, sir, I've a table set aside for you. Mr. Wilde has sent a note saying he will not be arriving, but to put on his tab whatever you like." I grinned. Now that was more like it. "But," continued the maitre'd, "He gave us the curious condition that it would only be allowed if you dined with a Mr. Ross." He raised his eyebrows, waiting for my reply. "Damn you, Oscar," I murmured, and holding back every instinct to punch the wanker in the face, gestured Robbie over to us. "It looks like our good Oscar wants us to dine together," I said, trying to keep emotion out of my voice. "And seeing as I'm quite famished, I'm going to just pray that I can keep my food down with you at my table." I turned and walked to the table offered to us, a small round affair with a bottle of wine already settled upon the cloth, knowing that, whether to dine or to argue, Robbie would follow.

ROBBIE:
deathxrecords (2:35:53 PM): How could Oscar do me something like that? I knew it was worthless to complain -- everytime I tried bringing this up, I never got any proper answers, let alone visible actions. Unless a 'I know, I know, but I cannot help it' counts as a visible action, which I very much doubted. With a resigned sigh, I followed Bosie to the table, wondering what Oscar could possibly be thinking -- leaving me and Bosie alone, waiting for him? He should have known to hurry, or get there earlier. Or maybe he was still in his right mind, and something terrible had happened, causing him to be late. Knock on wood. "Please, don't let my presence stop you from devouring your dinner.", I said, coldly, glaring at him. What did he have that I lacked so much, what made him so important to Oscar? More important, it seemed, than me. Me, who had been by his side for all those years, and then that little boy comes along, playing his part of martyr so terribly well, and I am tossed aside. True, I still get to see Oscar quite often, yet it seems that I am now his crying shoulder, rather than the object of his afection, of his complete interest and attention. I could see it, of course. Bosie was beautiful, though I barely let myself acknowledge this. His soft hair, and those eyes... yet, inside of his wonderful exterior laid a child, one seemingly prone to temper tantrums if his growing needs were not fullfilled and he was not spoiled rotten.

BOSIE:
I sat back as the waiter opened the wine for us, pouring us each a bottle. "I don't see what he thinks this is going to prove," I said offhandedly as I searched my pockets for my cigarette case, the latest one Oscar had purchased for me. "Setting us up in this way, as if we're two naughty boys who will inevitably 'hash it out' and be the best of mates. What does he expect of us? To kiss and make up?" I smirked. It could, perhaps, have been worse. I could've been dining with my father. I found the small case and opened the clasp...only to find no cigarettes inside. I rolled my eyes slightly, and gave Robbie a small, desperate smile. "Would you...happen to have a spare cigarette on you?" I didn't like him at all, but I would play nice, as it seemed what Oscar wanted, and as I'd realized, it definitely could have been worse. And if I were rude to Robbie, it would be unlikely that I would get a single cigarette from him, let alone the many I hoped I'd be able to snag from him throughout the meal.

ROBBIE:
Not that, of course, I would have minded the 'kissing and making up' part, if only Bosie were not so vicious. When he asked me for the cigarette, I smiled politely and answered, "Yes, yes I do." As I took out my own cigarette case and took one out for him, I could not help but wonder why Bosie even thought Oscar was setting us up. That was ridiculous! After all, Oscar knew perfectly well I was not exactly fond of Bosie... but then again, they had been spending considerable amounts of time together, so he probably knew that better. Thinking about it, I could now imagine Oscar planning this, trying to make me and Bosie get along. Of course, I would have preferred to stab myself than be friendly towards Bosie -- but this was Oscar, and for Oscar I would have done almost anything. Including sitting at the same table as Bosie. I handed him the cigarette, taking one out for myself, "Here."

BOSIE:
I took the cigarette with a small smile, and said, "Thank you," quietly. I lit it and sat comfortably back against the chair, and gave him a playful glance. "Well, I suppose if we're going to be here with each other, we may as well be sociable. It always drives me a bit mad, seeing couples out to restaurants where all they do is bicker. Surely the other customers don't wish to here it, nor do the waiters. It's my opinion people should leave their misery at home." Which is where all misery begins, really, I thought darkly, but was simply trying to make conversation and didn't wish to add anything too dismal into this. I watched Robbie put the cigarette to his lips and could honestly see what Oscar saw in him. His eyes were the kind that sparkled almost constantly, his hair was full and rich, and his smile was quite charming. Oscar told me Robbie had been his first boy after marrying Constance, and I couldn't blame him for that. Robbie was a snot, on occasion, and such a do-gooder. Why Oscar would go for someone who wore his conscience on his sleeve, mystified me. But perhaps that was part of the charm, opposites attracting, all of that bollocks. I knew him somewhat as a person, and he was good at making others laugh. He had never been overly kind to me, however, and that was our problem. Perhaps he was jealous. I would be, in his case, I supposed. Oh, who knows. Best to just converse, enjoy the meal, and not analyze too deeply. The waiter came to take our order and I was tempted towards the foie gras, but after having recently learned from a society friend the process by which it's made, I was mildly disgusted and settled instead on the veal parmesan with pasta. To start, cream soup with French bread. I really was quite hungry. I hadn't eaten all day, as I'd spent the morning poring over the text Oscar wished for me to translate. Robbie ordered and I bit my lip, a little uncertainly, at bringing up the topic to him. "Oscar wishes for me to translate Salome for him, and I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous with it. It won't work here until it's presented in English, so he's appointed the task to me. I must say, his French is not always the best, which makes it somewhat difficult to wade through. I do hope the work pleases him when it's finished." I wondered if Oscar had mentioned any of this to Robbie. I was fishing for information in regards to Oscar's thoughts on the few pages I'd given him last week.

ROBBIE:
Couples? I would much rather not consider myself to not be dining with him, just sitting at the same table by some cruel misfortune. Instead of complaining, however, I said gently, "Of course. Certainly, Oscar had a reason to do something like this to us, I believe. Otherwise, he would have joined us." I was not sure who I was trying to convince with this, Bosie or just myself, if I believed those words at all. Suddenly very conscious of Bosie's gaze on me, I tried to pretend I am not noticing. What was he staring at? Was he ennumerating to himself all the reasons that made him endlessly better than me? I could not help but feel uncomfortable, however, knowing that someone so beautiful was staring at me. Were he not such an enemy of mine, I possibly would have be able to lean in for a whisper, or maybe even a kiss. I would have be able to know what his hair felt like between my fingers, and his lips upon mine. I barely realized I was entertaining myself with such thoughts, when Bosie started speaking. I listened, part of me wishing to give him an opportunity, eager of his beauty, part of me hating him for being all Oscar seemed to think about these days, for making the man I loved more than the whole world so miserable. "Is that so?", I asked conversationally, the news stinging me with bitter jealousy. I remembered when I used to be the centre of Oscar's literary world, the way he shared with me all his ambitions and thoughts; the truth was that Bosie was now living that. Yes, I had been the first, but I was also living in the shadow of this wonderful -- yet hateful -- being. Suddenly it seemed that I had lost my appetite, as I stared blankly at the veal on my plate, pretending to be cutting it. This is one of the things that confirmed my prediction that this was bound to be be the longest evening in my entire life, admiring and hating the person sitting across from me.

BOSIE:
I paused, setting my silverware down beside my small bowl of soup. "Robbie," I said slowly, "Look. I.....I'm really quite worried he won't like it. I'm trying my best for him. You've not...heard anything at all?" It was obvious I was nervous about it, and his evasion of the topic made it seem as if he'd heard something and it hadn't been good. Then again, he'd be pleased to tell me if Oscar had said something rude about me. I hated to be vulnerable in front of Robbie, but from all that I'd heard from our mutual friends, he disliked me because he thought I was cold, a child. Here I was, showing some amount of vulnerability. Perhaps that would endear me slightly to him. Oh, I could kill Oscar - here we were, playing right into his wishes. But perhaps there were good reasons behind it, or something. I don't know. All I knew was that Robbie was holding back, and it bothered me.

ROBBIE:
Bosie's vulnerability made me feel terrible, as if somehow the rivalty between us was my own fault. Of course I knew it was not, and feared that he would start manipulating me like he did with Oscar, using his apparent vulnerabilities to get any attention. I scolded myself, thinking that Oscar would not be very amused by my behaviour -- at least, the so-terrible Bosie seemed to be trying. "I'm afraid I haven't been seeing that much of Oscar as of late.", I tell him, trying my best to not sound bitter, "I wouldn't know." This had been part of the reason why I was so anxiously awaiting this, to be able to talk to Oscar and be with him without Bosie's presence. How ironic. "I'm terribly sorry. I would offer to help you, but I suppose it wouldn't be a very good idea.", I say, hesitantly. After all, trying to get through the evening without behaving like Bosie's father does not mean being the best of friends until the end of days.

BOSIE:
I nodded, a little forlornly, and took a small sip of wine to chase down the heavy bread. "I understand," I said. "I would not by a long shot call us friends, Robbie. Hesitant acquaintances, perhaps. And the fault is on both our parts, and perhaps Oscar's. It's not that he's...pitting us against each other, not in the least. But circumstance has put us in a situation that has made it ugly for both of us, and there are probably many a thing we'd say to each other, not particularly kind, given the chance. But. Regardless of that. I appreciate your honesty." I cut idly at the chunk of veal and melted cheese on my plate, knowing the word 'honesty' was a bit of a play. I didn't think he was holding anything back in regards to what Oscar may've told him, but I could tell he resented more than he was letting on the fact that he'd not seen Oscar in awhile. My fault, surely. "I do love him, you know. Nobody's ever been so good to me as Oscar has. I wish I could say the same about myself to him. He's spoiled me, I suppose." I nibbled at the food and pondered my next words. "I owe it to him to be kind to you, but I find sharing a meal with you less a chore than I imagined it would be." It was a compliment of sorts, but a very sideways one. "I'm thinking aloud, it seems. Sorry for that. What have you been writing as of late?" I was giving him too much to think on and changing the topic quite quickly, somewhat on purpose and somewhat not. I knew he hated me. Was almost certain of it. I understood it to some degree, but it was safe to say that I could use more friends. He was at least more pleasant to be around than John Gray, who glared at me as if I were the Devil incarnate. I could not help it that Oscar loved me, and I him. Whomever was left in the dust could hardly become my responsibility, my burden. But Robbie was still present and important in Oscar's life, and for the sake of making all things simpler, it was better that we were able to be civil.

ROBBIE:
I had no idea what to say to all this. Bosie seemed to be taking this so much better than I was, though of course, I still feared it could be a facade, a flimsy mask. Instead of answering his question directly -- or addressing the 'friendship' subject -- I said, sighing, "Oscar does have that way of caring for people, doesn't he? He is a good man, he certainly is. You should count yourself lucky for having someone who cares so much about you. Not many people do." I find the part about nobody being as good to Oscar as Bosie as to be complete nonsense, of course, and I can't help but wonder if that was directed at me. Trying to remind myself of what Oscar wanted, I smile nervously. "He does love you, I hope you appreciate that." There is just so much I wanted to say -- I wanted to tell him what an ungrateful idiot he was being, parasiting Oscar like that, I wanted to tell him he was living what some of us wished they were living. I didn't hate Bosie for being Oscar's new fascination, far from it. I understood that, even if it made me slightly jealous. What I hated about Bosie was how easily he seemed to control Oscar, and I did not trust him with this power, with the power to do so much with the man I loved more than my own life. A power that I couldn't help wonder if it had been given to someone who loved Oscar as much as I did. Shaking my head, I decide to change the subject and answer his question about my writing, "Oh, the usual. This and that. What about you, besides that certainly fascinating translation?"

BOSIE:
I narrowed my eyes at him slightly. "Trust me, I do appreciate it," I said with a small amount of anger in my voice, annoyed at his obvious mistrust. I took a long gulp or two of the wine, loving the buzzing warm effect it had on me, having so little food in my stomach, and pursed my lips in annoyance as I tried to calm down. What a smug bastard. I had been trying, and his goody-two-shoes attitude was already beginning to grate. "A few poems," I said curtly, "Nothing spectacular." I was quiet then, and focused on swirling some of the pasta around my fork to cement it there on the short journey from the plate to my mouth. It seemed we'd reached a conversational impasse, and I was done trying. He'd have to make an attempt at being something other than so obviously envious, if he wanted me to speak again.

ROBBIE:
His poems were not exactly wonderful, were they? It took me a few moments to realize I had probably sounded too cynical. "Poems? That seems rather fascinating, you should show them to Oscar once you finish them... Certainly he would appreciate them.", I said, trying my best to sound like a pleasant person and not his conscience -- if he had one. I chewed on my veal calmly, and amazingly enough not counting down the minutes until the end of the evening; Bosie was not as bad of a company as I had expected. I decided to try to be more or less conversational, and steer away from subjects that could imply Oscar. With this in mind, I asked, "So, what... what else have you been occupying yourself with? Do you enjoy hunting, perhaps?"

BOSIE:
He was being kind about my poems. I could read him like a poorly-written book. But I let his kindness go unhindered. Better than the alternative. "Not often," I replied with a shrug, more comfortable now that we were on topics away from the literary. "My father's overly fond of it, so if I take it up, I do so rarely," I told him, and let my eyes scan the room, looking for a topic. And I found one. "Oh, what is he doing here?" I murmured, spotting one of the boys from the resident boys from Charlie's rooms, where the rent boys spent time with each other and customers. I leant in close to Robbie, pointing out the lad I'd spotted. "He was in trouble last week, for getting a hotel with a man who ended up being police. I guess they've let him off. Must've payed a handsome sum to get out of it." I watched him cross the room and sit with a friend or two of his and shook my head with a small smile, looking back at Robbie as I didn't wish for the boy to recognize me. "Have you had much...trouble? For such things?" I flicked my eyes to the green carnation in his buttonhole, and back to his own.

ROBBIE:
I was not expecting this in the least, and I wondered how many surreal things could still happen to me in one evening. I looked discreetly towards the boy, feeling slightly sorry for him and figuring where Bosie knew him from. "Poor lad." I said, shaking my head as I sipped on my wine. "I haven't been in that much trouble, no. I have however been thrown into a fountain by a few boys when I was in Cambridge, and ended up falling ill -- pneumonia. The don actually endorsed the situation." I didn't mention this had been what had led me to quit university, and I did not feel the need to mention the occasional blackmails. Being around Oscar, however, made me feel more protected for some reason, I just assumed I would not need to worry -- of course, I was still careful within reason -- while being under his wing.

BOSIE:
"Oh, that must've been terrible," I said, true sympathy in my voice. My father had done worse to me, on suspicion only, but I did truly feel sorry for Robbie. We were brothers in our condition, our 'unnatural interests', if nothing else. "I've had a few blackmail situations, as well. Oscar's solicitor sorted it out, but still...I wish it were easier than this."

ROBBIE:
"Me too... me too." I said quietly, sighing. I could never see anything unnatural about my love for other men -- especially Oscar -- and I wished society would understand it, too. "Maybe one day it will be... if not for us, for the generations to come." I could not help but notice Bosie was more... human... than I expected him to be. In my mind, he was a demon with the face of an angel. Maybe this had been the reason why Oscar, very cleverly, had arranged this strange supper.

BOSIE:
"Finally, something we can agree on," I said with a laugh and patted his hand for a moment. "May I have another cigarette? If we're going to discuss sexual politics, I find tobacco to be an utter necessity." It wasn't something Oscar had ever said, but the tone which I used made it sound like him. Not even on purpose. This happened to me more and more with how much time I spent with him. "I become so depressed, seeing sometimes how they look at Oscar and I in the streets...And granted, it's not as innocent as he'd make out in public, the philosopher-and-the-student explanation, but it is love. I don't know...............I don't know what I'd do if something ever truly came between us."

ROBBIE:
"Of course." I started rumaging in my pocket for my case once again and taking out a cigarette for him. The fact that he was starting to sound like Oscar was depressing me for some reason. It was supposed to be me. Although, on the other hand, the idea that Oscar was happy should -- and sometimes was -- enough. "That is... that is marvellous. I am glad the both of you are happy.", I said quietly, handing him the cigarette. Perhaps in that moment I was starting to see Bosie slightly differently, and starting to understand why Oscar loved him -- how vulnerable he looked, and how fast he apparently learned. Certainly that made up for a good disciple, like Oscar required... and if that was not enough, Bosie was not exactly bad looking and did not lack charming manners, did he?

BOSIE:
I lit the cigarette and dragged on it gratefully. "You look morose," I commented easily, and smirked. "One with your pretty face should never look so down." Surely Oscar would hear about it if I flirted with Robbie, but I doubted he'd mind. Besides, if Robbie's issue was that he thought me cold or uncaring or that I truly hated him, well, that wasn't true. We just had common interests over which we battled. But it didn't cover the fact that he was a handsome man, and that seeing as I didn't have Oscar to go to bed with - and was hesitant to visit Charlie's rooms lest there be more police problems - I might need to have someone on hand to have a bit of careless fun with.

ROBBIE:
I was trying hard not to blush. I wondered if he even meant it, or if he was just saying the first compliment that came to mind. Smiling nervously, I replied, "Thank you, but I don't think I can quite compare to you, can I?" It was true, and possibly unlike Bosie, I meant the compliment. I would never imagine myself as good-looking when he was around, with his perfect features and hair and god, those eyes... not to mention his gracefulness. By now, I was seemingly very interested in something on my now-empty plate, something that seemed to make me be unable to look away, to look up and face Bosie.

BOSIE:
"Oh, please," I said with a small wave of my hand, cigarette ash falling to the tablecloth. I brushed it carelessly away. "You're quite handsome, Robbie, if nobody's ever been kind enough to inform you of the fact. I can see why Oscar adores you." I made damn sure not to use the past-tense, as it might've broken him. Poor Robbie, with the nervousness and the too-pensive expressions, the inherent self-loathing...To some degree I understood it. So much of my own confidence was a necessary show. Mine had been broken over the years, and it was Oscar's love that bolstered and rebuilt it. I imagined Robbie was in much the same state, but wasn't allowed the aid of Oscar's affections as he must have once been. And I, oh, I loved Oscar, yes. But I had other affairs, other boys with whom I swapped whispers and kisses. To add Robbie to the list of those boys was not the worst idea in the world. Admittedly, not the best, as it could be damaging to all involved, but the idea was far from revolting. "But you don't want my flirtations," I reminded him with a smirk. "You hate me, remember?" I winked. "What was it, the last bit of gossip I heard about me....I can't quite recall...Was it Ada Leverson that told me you thought me a snake? That I was a calculating leech?" I raised my eyebrow, still half-smirking, waiting for his reply. "So I doubt my attraction to you is at all of any interest whatsoever." I shrugged and put the cigarette out in the small glass ashtray provided.

ROBBIE:
I kept my eyes down, this was being a touch humiliating and I couldn't help but hate Bosie, although, for once, it had nothing to do with Oscar. Not directly, at least. Bosie was toying with me, and that did not please me that much. After all, I did hate him, he was right. I just could not help but think about his beauty, which was probably not the best of thoughts to have in that moment, but what of it. I knew if anything happened between me and Bosie it was not to be continued into the future, after all, he had Oscar and I had... Oscar, though perhaps in a different manner. "Maybe I do hate you.", I said, honsetly, my voice nothing more than a whisper. "And I would have thought you would know better than to flirt with someone who hates you as much as I do." Hoping my attempt at turning the table was not pathetic, I got a cigarette for myself, before adding, "Even if I feel attracted to you as well, that does not make me hate you any less than I do."

BOSIE:
"Well, at least we're being honest with each other now," I told him simply. I wasn't even sure quite where I was going with this, to be honest. He'd done better than most men in his condition - most of them caved instantly, giving into me without a challenge. And I did so love a challenge. "Well, what now, then?" I asked him, my smile gone. "One has to wonder what Oscar was thinking when he put us together here. I for one can't guess. Because we've been rude, been kind, admitted attraction, and still seem to hate each other." It disturbed me, that he hadn't given in. Perhaps it would require a heavier provocation, but the wine muddled my thoughts enough that I couldn't imagine the next move.

ROBBIE:
I did not answer his question at first. I myself had no idea what to do now, but I certainly did not want Bosie to win so easily. Not yet -- I did not want to let him think he was in control, I wanted to make sure he knew that if I went anywhere beyond casual conversation, it would be because I had wanted to, not because of Bosie. These thoughts ran frantically through my head as I smoked quietly for a few moments, before saying, in my best casual tone, "Somehow, I don't suppose Oscar would have foreseen this. Probably because I have not told him about my attraction to you, enemies are enemies. I wouldn't have admitted to it myself if this weren't a night of... cordiality." Each word was carefully weighted, and were probably some of the most deliberate ones I ever spoke.

BOSIE:
"Foreseen.....what, exactly?" I asked, equal measures of curiosity and wariness and humor in my voice. I tried to guess at what he was thinking, and couldn't. No wonder Oscar had liked him - as open as he could be, as warm, he was also capable of mystery. I liked him all the more for it. Not such the goody-goody as I'd seen him before.

ROBBIE:
I spoke as if it were pretty obvious what I was intending to say. "Foreseen that we would end up flirting, of course. I highly doubt that, no matter how witty he is, Oscar actually planned to get us here just so he could see the two enemies flirting. No.", I explained. "Unless, of course, you have told him of the attraction you have for me."

BOSIE:
I ignored the latter bit to laugh. "Well, I very much doubt he'd be annoyed by us flirting. He has a liking for watching me with other boys, on occasion. Maybe that's why he set this up." I was teasing now, and grinned.

ROBBIE:
This was it. My evening would not get stranger, certainly. Oh, no. "I don't think he would have. He might like that when you are concerned, but I doubt Oscar would do this to me.", I spoke quietly, trying to convince myself. When it came to Oscar, I had no idea what he was thinking anymore -- and Bosie probably did, though of course I did not want to admit this. Living in my lie was preferrable, I thought.

BOSIE:
I smiled slightly, and nodded. "Sorry if I offended you," I said politely. "I frankly have no idea where his mind is at on this, so it may be useless to speculate. Did we get anything out of it? Are we better friends for it? I can't tell." The wine was making me feel quite good, and all of this took on a rather humorous light. I'd decided to be amused by it, rather than annoyed.

ROBBIE:
"Possibly not. As I mentioned before, I am being cordial this evening, but I cannot guarantee that it will remain as such afterwards.", I explained. "Of course, I must admit it was really rather considerate of him to set this all up. He may not have a preference for watching me with other boys, but I am guessing that perhaps Oscar knew how down I have been feeling and kindly decided to arrange things so you and I would meet. Perhaps he thought that whatever he sees in you, I would see, too." I paused to lick my lips quickly, in an almost completely manner, were it not for the words that would follow. "Whether what I see is what Oscar sees, I don't know. I will tell you what it is: I see a beautiful young man who is spoiled yet vulnerable."

BOSIE:
I felt a sort of warmth flood my chest and face - surely I was blushing. It was a sensation I didn't know often, as one had to have principles, usually, to be able to be made to blush. I must've been scarlet, even, and it was I now that looked down from his gaze to my plate, and swallowed hard. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that he'd said that caused this curious feeling. Had I been less able to compose myself, I might've been short of breath. Robbie was seducing me, quietly. And it was working, beautifully. I licked my lips, unconsciously mirroring his earlier gesture, as I found they'd gone somewhat dry, and peered back up into his eyes. "Most people...only see the spoiled," I said flatly. He had been the same way, before this lunch. What had changed? Were we friends now? Destined, even, to be more? I was floored somehow, and still I couldn't quite figure out why. Had Robbie at last accepted me? Why should I care? He seemed now the one with grace, and I the flustered one, nervous, wondering how far he might take this, whether he was just teasing...."Being spoiled makes me impatient, so you'll have to pardon me for the fact that if we weren't in public right now, I may well at this point be kissing you." I said it almost bitterly, in a rush, ashamed at my own honesty. How had he with just a few words managed to disarm me so perfectly? I enjoyed it. It was new, and unexpected, and deliciously reckless.

ROBBIE:
Seeing Bosie blush was really rather unexpected, to say the least, something that owuld have never even cross my mind -- let alone being the cause of it. For some reason I enjoyed this, the feeling that Bosie, who I knew as a manipulator, was being made blush by my words. I wondered why the reaction had been this. What had I said? What had I done? I could see, however, that it was working, and I couldn't help but be amused even though in the back of my mind I felt slightly sorry for the fact that Bosie knew most people only saw him as a spoiled brat, not noticing his vulnerability -- much like I had, before this dinner. "You know, I certainly wouldn't mind if you threw a temper tantrum out of your wanting to kiss me, though I'm quite certain most people in this room would. So... perhaps we should go somewhere?", I said, a sly smile on my lips, the feeling of control rushing through my veins.

BOSIE:
I girtted my teeth slightly, embarrassed both by my reaction to him and his insult. "Don't flatter yourself, or me, while simultaneously treating me like a brat. If you can live with that rule, you can kiss me all you like," I said casually, this time running my tongue over my lower lip with a purpose, slow and teasing. I was too worked up now, mentally if not physically, but his flattery to truly register his insults, so as long as there were no more...well, he could likely do a lot more than kiss me. "Where do you figure we should go?" I asked softly, before downing the last of the potent wine in my glass.

ROBBIE:
I let the demand slip, I was too ecstatic to bother starting an argument all over again. However, I clueless about where to go, and hoping this would not count as an insult, I said, "I thought you were the expert on all these doings... I have no idea where we should go, to tell you the truth. Unless, of course, you want to go to my house." Somehow, I did not think the latter would appeal to him.

BOSIE:
"Well, given the police action as of late, it may be best to steer clear of the hotels," I told him, and stood slowly from the table, gesturing that he should do the same if we were ever going to get out of here. "I've half a mind to go pound down Oscar's door, but that would be in poor taste." I was joking, naturally, and led Robbie from the restaurant. "I have a small apartment I keep. It'll do." I waved down a passing cab and stepped back from it as it stopped, gesturing Robbie towards its open door. "Ladies first."

ROBBIE:
I knew he would have something of the sort prepared, and followed him gladly outside. "Oh, so I am a lady, am I? It was not me who was blushing coyly a few minutes ago.", I teased, stepping into the cab, still smiling. Bosie's earlier comment, about pounding down Oscar's door, had gotten me thinking... what if we did? I wondered if he would be astonished or just simply amused. I had no idea anymore; although I loved Oscar and knew I always would, it was almost as if I barely knew him anymore. I sighed inaudibly, leaning back and quickly running through my mind the events of the evening.

BOSIE:
"Don't start with me, or I'll *make* you blush," I promised him as I climbed into the cab after him, giving the driver my address.

ROBBIE:
"Would you really? How so?", I whispered. I wanted to continue teasing him, but I held my tongue. The fact that the rest of the night seemed predictable within reason, did not mean I knew him enough to know when to avoid his temper.

BOSIE:
I didn't say a word, didn't even look at him, but reached down and gave his thigh a squeeze, letting my hand rest there. After a moment or two, I turned to look at him, hiding a smirk as I moved my hand slightly upward and back down again as I tried to gauge his blush. I didn't dare caress him anywhere important, no, not yet, but just toying with him was entertainment enough for now.

ROBBIE:
I did not blush, at least not enough for it to be visible in the semi-obscurity. "Bosie, Bosie. You will have to do far better than that. I am not as shy as you think," I whispered into his ear.

BOSIE:
I held back real, deep, raucous laughter - not in amusement, but extreme delight. His whisper tickled my ear and sent a shiver down my spine that lingered there at the base of it, a pleaurable lust just waiting to be fulfilled. "Oh, really," I murmured back, and moved the hand up further again, this time at his groin, squeezing lightly, my own breath hitching slightly at the action. "This better, then?" Damn Oscar. He must've foreseen this somehow, must've known this was bound to happen at some point, and all the happier to speed it along for us. Bless you, Oscar. I glanced at Robbie in the slight dark, and up at the driver, making sure he was paying no attention, before I ghosted a kiss against Robbie's ear, his hair tickling my face gently.

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