#platiinums: kellam (soulmateau)

[agcntbubbles]

@platiinums

What constituted a 'date'? Was this one? There was going to be food (allegedly) and it was with the intent of feeling each other out (NOT up). And wasn't that what dates were? Clayton did not like how rolling that thought around in his head gave him butterflies. Butterflies-—a mid-forties hardened assassin had butterflies.

Clayton decided not to linger on it. That was his decided approach on all of this. Brain off, don't think about it too hard. Freak out later. Which was exactly what he'd done when he got back to his shitty little hotel room the evening after their reunion. In his defense, it was that sort of level and calm type of freaking out, but a freaking none the less.

The cons were intense but there was plenty to offset them once he actually sat and picked it all apart with some level of levelheadedness. Having seen how Kellam moved and to know he'd operated in similar spheres was really what had been the nail in the coffin. Kellam knew his chaotic mess of a lifestyle and didn't seem put off by it or by the possibility of it bleeding into his own.

The operator had decided against breaking in a second time...as funny as that might be and as much as, deep down, he wanted to show off just a little. Come Tuesday, 8 on the dot, he was lifting a hand to knock at the man's door. Truth be told, he'd been there nearly an hour early. Not for any casing (he'd done that the first time) but simply because of...nerves? No, surely not. Just being polite and making sure he wouldn't end up late.

[agcntbubbles]

cont. x / @platiinums

Where were the cameras? The crew? This had to be staged, this had to be some sort of sick joke-—twice, so soon? Oh, fuck off. Clayton hadn't initially noticed him, why would he? Another face in the room and he was there on business. He'd done an initial sweep and had to sweep back a second time to confirm. Nope, that was him.

His suit suddenly felt that much more uncomfortable and he itched to be anywhere else besides sat there in the corner by his lonesome sipping on liquor far to rich for his otherwise rough aesthetic.

Had he been noticed? Sniper rules, he decided. If he had noticed Mustang, then Bubbles too had likely been spotted. And then what about it? So what? That didn't mean they had to actually engage. But then what if the other chose to engage first at an inconvenient time? Best to get the basic pleasantries out of the way now so he could slip back into work mode. Besides, he'd been staring the bastard down like a hawk since he'd noticed him-—it would be rude to not address him to some extent.

Clay knocked back the rest of the drink he'd been holding onto for appearances more than anything and moved to steal the seat next to the man. ❝ I wasn't gonna hold you to the drink thing but I guess the universe seems to be. ❞ some basic chit-chat, have the man buy him a drink, and then they'd part ways again and he could go back to watching for his mark. Easy-peasy.

[agcntbubbles]

cont. x / @platiinums

It was nasty business-—all of it. Having survived yet another batch of bullshit and having dragged part of it to the shitty studio apartment he was calling home for another week.

His first thought (outside of 'god, i feel like shit.') was how he definitely wasn't getting back the security deposit after all the blood the stranger was leaking onto the couch.

His second thought, as fleeting as it was, concerned how he really ought to have just left the guy to die. It was just part of the trade. He didn't know this guy, didn't know who he worked for or why he was there at the scene. Their goals had seemingly aligned, but that was always temporary in this line of work. Friends one day, at each other's necks the next.

As quickly as they'd come, the thoughts flittered off and he was there on his knees by the couch with a shabby medical kit. He was working his way through wounds he saw, cleaning and packing and bandaging. Anything that wasn't currently bleeding was given a swipe of disinfectant and otherwise left alone.

❝ Well aren't you fancy? This is pretty par for the course for me. ❞ well, at least if the dude was cracking quips, he wasn't completely on death's door. He handed over what was left of the shredded shirt and then tried not to openly react as the man shifted and he was given a view of another injury.

❝ Ah, fuck. ❞ came his initial response as he observed the hunk of glass. This was gonna hurt. His gaze trailed down just slightly squinted at the zigzag mark. A second and quieter, ❝ Fuck. ❞ followed.

Maybe he really ought to have left the guy to bleed out. Okay, relax. Don't be dramatic, Clay. Not when the dude had a hunk of glass that needed removing. He was exhausted and he'd been thrown around plenty-—he was probably just looking at it wrong; there were way too many other possibilities to consider before jumping to THAT one.

❝ Gonna pull on three. 1...2...-—❞ he pulls on two because it's just better to be caught off guard instead of tensing. He's quick to set it aside and immediately move into cleaning and packing. ❝ Gonna be a gnarly scar probably. Even if you manage to get to an actual doc. ❞

[agcntbubbles]

❛ you gonna be a good boy for me? ❜ — Kellam ( soulmate!au )

So maybe he wasn't as good at hiding the wound as he thought. It worked well enough when he was just moving through crowds, when he wasn't lingering around anyone. You put on a tough face and gritted through the pain, kept your head down, and walked. Easy.

The illusion of not bleeding through your shirt sort of dissipated once you were stood still around someone in decent lighting for more than a glance. One hand had gone to holding his side at that point-—a small blade, just a single shot landed but...stab wounds were stab wounds even if it could barely be considered anything other than a damn pocketknife that'd done it.

The other hand lifted and was held out like trying to dissuade a stalking animal.

❝ I would love to stay and chat and figure out why the hell you talk the way you do but...we'll have to reschedule. ❞ his gaze flickered for the exit behind the man. It was that or the window and he was NOT jumping through a goddamn window tonight. The circumstances weren't THAT dire.

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It was for much less fun reasons than he'd thought he was tugged closer and he let out a quiet sort of grouchy grunt but stood there regardless. ❝ Yeah. Tantrums are a constant but the severity would definitely be...varied. ❞

He closes his eyes to prevent any suds and lets himself just enjoy the pleasant feeling of the water, of hands in his hair. God it felt good. He hadn't felt pampered since...well, ever. He'd done a face mask maybe once and it was OK. ❝ Mmm, big misconception. Actor salary. ❞ he just about slurred it, exhaled a long and content sigh.

❝ You bastard. You just wanted to get me in here to drown me in your fancy soaps and shit. ❞

He offers up a wry look from under the spray, big enough to cover them both "Wouldn't you?" Kellam isn't so polite, but he is rather sly, noting the body art on display diligently as the blonde soaks his hair so it's just as plastered as his. It takes him a moment to remember his actual ulterior motive, as he turns to pump a handful of inoffensively pleasant shampoo in his hand, and tugs the assassin closer with his free hand, so he can work it into woefully thirsty hair. "More or less, it took a bit of fine-tuning but it was just a matter of finding the right lawyers." 

Fingers are gentle as they work the hair wash through. Small circles along his scalp, and further down till he's scritching pleasantly. Curious as to the assassin's reaction. "It's about the same amount of tantrums, but…I don't have to worry about potential comas after a weekend of too much recreational usage. Most actors don't make as much as it seems after taxes. I get paid along with their agents typically." 

[agcntbubbles]

The water was hot and Clay finds he doesn't mind. Warm showers could be rare in general, so he knew how to enjoy them. ❝ Of course you research. ❞ he laughs to himself as he fully wets his hair. Call him a professional how he could mind his manners and mind his eyes long enough to actually start the process of a legitimate shower with Kellam right there in all his stupid soulmate glory.

❝ Sounds like you've got a mean process worked out. Seems like a lot of work but...hey, you're doing well. ❞ leave it to the universe to pair him with someone who could work with him while playing his foil at the same time. Kellam was calm and chill but Clay had seen something sharper in him. Clay was sharp and precise but had something stormy and unruly in him. They were both planners and liked details it seemed, it was just Clay was a little more used to working on the fly while Kellam had everything orderly and efficient.

He exhaled a gentle curse at the realization, huffed quietly in amusement.

❝ Celebrities seem like they'd be a fresh of breath air after a billionaire or two. ❞

"No, not by much. If at all." It's the way they carry themselves. Often? Kellam can tell a despot or tyrant apart at a glance. He thinks it's the way his skin prickles in their presence. Warning, clear as day. Call him a professional first so that he doesn't put them down as a charitable freebie. It'd be the easiest way to get the feds on his ass too. Best leave it to the whales, when the bastards are sunning themselves on yachts. 

Kell thinks the blonde finds him…Pleasing, at first glance. He notes the hitch in his breath and the way he swallows dryly on approach. Kellam is well aware he's…Generously proportioned. Good length of limb, strong thighs, and overall tone. Aesthetically? He's not quite in his prime, but he's diligent. Eats well, lifts and adds a healthy heaping of combat drills, and calisthenics with his own body weight to keep limber. 

"I research. I've managed to avoid at least three government-run shell companies, but it's a painstaking process. For every one billionaire, I'll sprinkle in at least four to five celebrity contracts. The more prolific the better. I don't run, I hide from who I need to in plain sight. You'll find there aren't many assassins comfortable with the public." He sets the conditioner down on the shower bench to his right before easing into the overhead spray with a hum. "I network for my next contract while I'm still employed and typically? Deal with negotiations in the midst. I usually close a week or two before my original assignment is over with." Meticulous? Undoubtedly, but alive.

[agcntbubbles]

❝ Not surprising at all. Rich and powerful tend to be the same across the board. I'm sure people in my side of town aren't too different from yours at their core. ❞ he was doing a remarkably good job contributing to the conversation still considering what he was being offered up some a feast for the eyes.

He lets his gaze drift along the man's waist, lower still. He'd been planning on following up with another thought but it was just...gone. He swallows dryly at the approach, blinks dully as the conditioner near him is grabbed and Kellam is sauntering off towards the steaming hot water.

❝ I feel like that'd be an issue. Like I said...there's overlap with these sorts. And eventually you can literal overlap. Only so many rich fucks in the world in this sort of tax bracket. Don't you ever worry about indirectly dipping your toes into government or something? Closer to my neck of the woods? Seems like the opposite of what you're trying to accomplish here...❞ he sheds his pants, eager to join Kellam. And good for him, he'd remembered how to think again and continue the conversation.

If he registers the way blue eyes are drinking him up as he shrugs off the dress shirt, there's no sign of it. Instead? He's focused on the conversation. "You'd be surprised how many potential employers will press their luck. I mean it when I say short term." It's for his own safety, and no amount of money is enough to compromise his lack of discernable pattern. The only common thread between his clients is obscene amounts of wealth and little to no self-control. "I like to cover my bases." 

Fingertips move down to slacks and he's quick with the button and zipper, borderline clinical before he's peeling the fabric down past a prominent v-line, and letting it pool at his feet. Black boxer briefs, follow shortly. Kellam is undoubtedly built for another line of work, solid, and molded like a painstakingly carved Italian statue. "Scalding it is then." Already the telltale rise of steam, as he grabs the conditioner beside the blonde and makes a neat stride past the glass wall. 

[agcntbubbles]

Well, Kellam has more on than him and so it just made sense to wait. That was totally logical. Clayton could have nodded to himself as he crossed his arms, leaned there against the sink, and made absolutely no attempt at hiding how he watched Kell.

❝ Lawyers? ❞ the gunman whistled low. ❝ You really are the whole lethal package. ❞ pretty, smart, and with his shit together.

Clayton watched each button as it was undone, let his eyes flicker only for a beat to the shower at the mention of it. ❝ Scalding is fine. Like mine on the hotter side too. I'm adaptable either way. ❞

Kellam releases his hold if only to fish for the Turkish towels from the bathroom cabinet. Appropriately large and fluffy, along with a packaged toothbrush and with a brief glance back? The extra hydrating conditioner in the back. "It's part of my contract. My employer thinks he's an exception and sweetened the pot during negotiations this time last year--- Or at least his idea of that." the corners of his mouth twitch with brief amusement as he sets everything on the sink vanity and moves past the glass wall to turn on the waterfall shower in the ceiling. 

"I usually go over paperwork with my lawyers and redraft them before I sign and send them back." There's never been a person yet who's piped up or given him grief for it. Fingertips move to flick on the dimmer lights in the shower itself before he begins unbuttoning from mid-collar down. "I don't like overheads usually but those are kinder on the eyes…I also like my water lava hot, so please feel free to be honest and not suffer a second degree burn." 

[agcntbubbles]

Clayton has been tucking things away to think about later. Drinking up details, stuffing feelings away into boxes to go through later. There were some things he was allowing himself to consider there in the present and how pretty the man looks dusted in blush is one of them. He wanted to pepper his face with kisses, wanted to see how flushed he could get.

But then they're steering to the bathroom and he goes along with little to no complaint. ❝ Starting to feel like I went into the wrong line of work. ❞ he hums, eyes darting about the bathroom.

He stood there then, just a bit awkwardly. He really just had his pants to take off and he felt like waiting for everything to be situated and ready before he stripped was the polite thing to do.

There's no right way to be infatuated, at it's core it's a fumbling and clumsy process. Two individuals learning how they slot, and work in tandem. Yet Kell finds himself a little floored by the eagerness filling him to the brim. It's new, and precious...And delicate. Not unlike a fledgling making it's way out of the family nest in flight. This, he thinks is the first thing he's ever had for himself. To himself. An opportunity to nurture from the ground up. 

He isn't so much drowning as a live wire, standing in the middle of the room and attempting not to pounce on the poor skittish man peering his way so earnestly he might melt in place. The smile makes his stomach flip in one fell swoop, and he huffs a laugh. "That's a set the pace, and I'll adjust." Of course biting is allowed. Anywhere...Everywhere. Blue eyes blink owlishly at the feel of hands along his shoulders, pink blooms on his cheeks when they trail down his arms and leave goosebumps in their wake. When they drift back up to straighten his hair, he leans in shamelessly, practically nuzzling. 

"I have a tankless water heater." The corners of his mouth upturn, as he presses a kiss against the blonde's temple and turns to guide him to the bathroom. Honestly? Not wrong about the freaky description. It could probably fit a football team on a good day. 

[agcntbubbles]

Maybe in the wake of it all, Clay isn't sure how he's supposed to be reacting. He thinks, technically, this is his equivalent of trembling desire and unwavering devotion, affection. He's skittish, he's distant, anxious, and wholly not used to being anything but by himself. Him being there and being comfortable in being so was a testament in itself to the draw he felt towards Kellam, towards his soulmate.

But it felt like such an inadequate thing when the movies and the books and everything else made it out like he ought to be falling at the man's feet begging to breathe through his lungs instead of his own.

He watches Kellam's hand reach up to rub his face and he thinks that the way he wants to crowd in close to him and pet and stroke through his hair, to curl around him protectively-—maybe that's just his version of it. As close to anything dramatic portrayed elsewhere. It was hard to formulate any of it into words, let alone thoughts. Wanted. It could just be summed up with that. He wanted and he needed. Anything, everything Kellam had to offer.

He offers a lop-sided smile. Mischievous but disarming, far too docile for the likes of someone like him. ❝ So that's a no on biting? Or...? ❞ he doesn't ignore the pull any longer, lets his feet move again. He smooths at Kellam's shoulders, down his arms. His hands come back up to innocently straightened some of the man's hair.

❝ All about the environment, baby. Yeah. I'll shower with you in your freaky big bath-shower. ❞

How does one communicate the depth of their affection without coming across completely insane? He's not used to it, and thus…It seems a monumental undertaking. Then again, Kell was raised in extremes. Devotion was only ever quantifiable by how much one fought to stay alive and molded themselves to honor the family. A hell of a notion. Colt is his only example of something more normal. Master of 'Actions speak louder than words', understated but impactful. Kindness leaves a bigger mark on those who have gone without. The blonde has found himself no different. Can't hide the traces of preference, of hunger to learn as much as he can about the man before him. 

He breathes out low and gives a little tilt of his head. "You didn't." Not a single complaint, just delightful noises. Pants and hissed curses. The desperate tug of calloused fingers in his hair---Kellam moves a hand up to scrub his face, willing the mental image back, fixes the older man with a darkened gaze. "I think I'm a little more starved than I thought." For you, remains unsaid. But it's more than present in the curve of his mouth when he smiles. "So maybe biting isn't the best analogy." God, he'd eat him up to the very marrow. 

"Would you like to shower together?"  Middle ground. He doesn't have particularly lascivious designs after dessert in the kitchen. Regardless it's still something intimate…Perhaps just as much as having someone sleep in the same bed, or giving them your back for a prolonged period of time. "I've heard it's better for the environment." 

[agcntbubbles]

He feels...

Relief for one. A tinge of embarrassment for having to ask in the first place. Soulmates and the yearning and the rush of comfort and ease and blah, blah-—they'd still barely encountered one another. Again: sex with someone you'd run into a handful of times was arguably something that could be seen as commonplace. Cuddling? Sharing a bed. Intimate.

The gunman wriggles from the hold to plop the blanket onto the bed, turns around again to regard Kellam. He keeps his feet planted where they are despite the nagging urge to roam right back into the man's immediate space. ❝ I don't follow...❞ and then the mention of the window and he's glancing away, scratching at the side of his face.

❝ Oh. To soak. It's not that bad, I swear. Otherwise I'd have complained a lot more on that counter. ❞

Kellam was sweet. He was patient. Generous, kind, complex-—Clayton could go on and he knew they weren't even assumptions. He just knew. ❝ Crowd me if that's what you want to do. Look this...❞ he gestured vaguely as he searched for his words. ❝ Me coming here and giving this whole thing a shot means we need to be coming at each other authentically. We need to figure each other out and that means kind of fucking up sometimes and then adjusting. If I get nervous, I'll bite. I mean, clearly we've got that one jotted down in the books. ❞

He crossed his arms to occupy his hands from fidgeting. ❝ Kellam, I'm...comfortable. I won't lie and say this whole thing doesn't still have me freaked the fuck out and that I'm not confused and trying to process a lot of conflicting shit right now. But, I feel...at ease for the most part. I think I can stand my space being invaded a bit. ❞

"Depends on the weather." He likes to sleep in a very cold room, it's easier to get cozy than it is to be hot. The corners of his mouth twitch regardless, as he's pinned for a furnace. Maybe if given enough time to get worked up. On the regular? He'd say lukewarm, and surprisingly warm hands. 

Kellam eases forward at the question and hooks his fingers in the blonde's belt loops. Tugging him along and back into the Master bedroom gently. "Yeah, you're here." As next to him as he'd like to be. A flash of pearly whites at the mention of showering. "There's a bathtub in the shower." He means quite literally built in, and comically large. "If I remember correctly you made some mention of falling out a window?" A hint of a tsk. "I'm trying to be mindful and give you a bit of space." Failing miserably no doubt, but it's only because it feels like he can taste his pulse on the back of his throat when the assassin is near. In a good way. Like a heartbeat going rush with blood after a good chase. 

"Call me on it." He doesn't look flustered so much as sheepish. It'd be better not to overstep. 

[agcntbubbles]

Clay offers up nothing more than a hum and slow nod. Very talkative and he'd liked what he'd managed to glimpse. He was tired in all senses of the word, not excluding that comfortable sort of tired one earned by engaging in some high-emotion and wine-aided romping about.

❝ You? I woulda pinned you as someone who you have to fight to keep a blanket on. ❞ maybe it was the man's build, but he seemed like he ran hot in his sleep. Clay complied with a strange lack of resistance, huffing in amusement as he held his arms out to receive the monster of a blanket.

He nodded. Toiletries. Shower before bed. Walk-in. Clayton nodded, got it. He cleared his throat, his hesitance evident. Okay, maybe he could read between the lines but he still liked someone to just read it out to him anyway. ❝ Just to be clear: I'm here-—❞ he gestured towards the master bedroom. ❝ Or...here? ❞ a gesture now to the guest bedroom.

❝ I'll probably shower with whatever hot water you leave. If it's all the same to you. ❞

"Talk a lot." He repeats, and hums. Well, that's something to be said, isn't it? The Arctic has thawed a considerable amount if the assassin is able to gauge so much expression at a glance. Or is it simply that Kellam feels no need to? Food for a later time. For now, he is the consummate host, lingers in the doorway of the master bedroom with a slight tilt of his head. If he's picturing the blonde double wrapped in the coziest blanket he knows it hardly shows in his expression. 

Instead? He's moving down the hall again and toward the linen closet. Pops it open with a press of a door corner, "I think I might have a contender." his tone is indulgent as he digs through the neat assortment for a burgundy blanket made of literal clouds. Or well…The most human interpretation of it. Lush, warm, and emphatically cozy too. 

"Here." Casually, as if he's accustomed to giving up his favorite things as a carnal creature of comfort, Kellam offers up the blanket and pauses till it's taken before motioning toward the bedroom. "I have extra toiletries in the bathroom…And I usually take a shower before bed, but please feel free to shop in the walk-in." Everything one could dream of in organized and quickly accessible fashion, socks, underwear, and outfit combinations galore. In retrospect? The shoe section is comparatively modest. No discernable name brands on the racks, but high-quality leather and stitching alongside simple trainers and a few pairs of riding and cowboy boots.

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Clayton follows as gestured to, taking note of each room pointed out to him. He sniffs and then sucks at his teeth at the term-—pretty boy. If he had a dime for each jaw he'd dislocated or otherwise bodily harm he'd caused for such a term thrown his way...he'd have at LEAST twenty cents according to what he could actively recall. It was tolerable from Kellam, he decided. Welcomed, maybe...though he was adamant about pumping the breaks there and taking it easy.

Blown on the kitchen island was one thing but getting warm and fuzzies from pet names was a whole other ballpark he wanted to tiptoe into, not jump. ❝ Eyes again. Yours talk a lot. ❞ an answer to a question he'd initially breezed past. He glances into the guest bedroom, light flicked on. His brows knit and he turns to glance back for his host.

❝ Can be. ❞ he looked for the room again and flicked the light switch back off. Clay could read well enough between the lines. No sense in asking that sort of thing if there wasn't some assumption already that they were just going to be in the same bed with the same comforter. ❝ You know how it goes. Can live off scraps but once you get good food, you get aggressive. I could sleep with nothing any day but...given a comfy blanket? Yeah, might be a bit of a hog. ❞

Amusement tugs at the corners of his lips, Kellam's not particularly worried but it's entertaining regardless to see the blonde's sense of humor and its reaches. "Noted." He doesn't bother to say Clayton is welcome to what he pleases, it's practically written on his expression as he rakes fingers through his hair in an attempt to finger comb. It's a valiant attempt, for a fluffy and pampered beast. 

"What gave it away?" Curiosity now as he motions the older man to follow. It's a generous layout beyond the entrance hall and to the right. "Linen closet is the first door. The study is right after. The guest bedroom is to the left," A snort of amusement follows the line of reasoning. "The master bath is connected. I don't think you'll get too disoriented pretty boy." 

Kell's typically agreeable, but it's something else altogether to have the assassin in his home and seeming more relaxed by the minute. Already, enough proximity has melted some of the ever-present tension in Clay's shoulders. "Are you a blanket hog?" Almost as an afterthought.

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He arches a brow at first as if waiting for it to become clear that his jest had also been met with a jest. ❝ I'm fucking with you, doll. Soulmate or not, I don't like sleeping in the complete nude. I'll borrow some. Then, well, don't expect them back. ❞ anything else he borrow he'd return, but underwear was just sort of something that you both silently agreed was more so being gifted than it was being lent.

Clay resists the urge to pull Kellam back in close again, nods to himself. ❝ Figures. You seem well read. ❞ Kellam was warm and he smiled a lot of he was patient-—he could see someone misinterpreting that as a pushover or dumb. Clay saw the sharpness to him. All blades grew dull, but not at the same rate and some took less to stay sharp than other.

❝ Nothing dramatic just...you know, so I'm not fumbling around if I have to wake up to piss or whatever. ❞

"I can do that." Undies huh? Must mean naked. The corners of his mouth twitch, before he schools them into something more placid. "It's fine with me." Existing in tandem they've done, and clearly, there's something stronger out in the universe because neither of them was lost before they could get here. He's only met this man a grand total of 4 times, but he's seen enough to know they mesh. Seen him at his worst, his most stubborn and merciful too. Kellam pays far more attention than the average person. 

"Read." Plan. Mental dexterity is important even if he's not working in the same field. Both his former occupation and current share a surprising amount of overlap. A dark underbelly of connections, tyranny, and nepotism. Kellam likes staying steps ahead and after that. Leagues more. He manuvers well enough for someone with hellhounds at his heels. 

"Oh, that'd be a real shame for you wouldn't it?" he tuts back, and blinks slowly as he's held in place before breaking into a boyish grin at the peck. "I figured." He eases further back to allow the blonde more room to adjust and slip to his feet. "I could do that." It's a reasonably sized apartment. Master bed and bath, study/ office, and a guest room with its own bathroom. Not labyrinthine by any means, but a testament to the seriousness of his employer's commitment to ensnaring Kellam's service. Nothing is his but the clothes, toiletries, and weapons stashed meticulously about. 

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The gunman doesn't argue because, yeah. Sleep sounded good. Actual sleep. Safe sleep. He lets his hair be ruffled and, to his credit, just huffs about it. ❝ Maybe just some comfortable clothes for tomorrow. Lounge type wear. I'm fine sleeping in just my lil' undies if that's fine with you. ❞ he grins at the slight tug and then exhales calmly. Alright, there was a plan. The big dramatics were over with and now he just had to settling into...being. Existing in tandem with this man.

❝ What do you do when you don't have anyone else? ❞ what Bubbles himself did, he imagined. Slept lightly, just enough to prevent from dropping. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of someone like Kellam having to run ragged like that.

❝ Who knows, you could be the first to die from it. ❞ he jeered with that crooked grin. Clay accepts the little kiss, reaches to hold at the man's chin to steady him for a proper peck. ❝ Absolutely stiff upper lipping it. ❞ he gives the cheek a pat and then drops his hands to work on tucking himself back into his pants and make himself presentable enough to get ready for sleep.

❝ You could give me a little tour though. ❞ he eased off the counter with your typical old man noise and stretched lazily.

  "No excuse, I'm guilty of impatience too." Meticulous self-control in other instances aside? It was a different beast to be presented with a formidable gravitational pull. He's proud of himself for making sure and checking in. All of it felt important. 

"I think it's looking closer like the second option darlin'." His own fingertips move up to rake through the gunsmith's hair childishly. A hint of a grin curls his lips as he hums his amusement. "You can borrow somethin' of mine if y'wanna be more comfortable." Kellam is a prepared and often? Neat creature. He'd requested the day off, whether to lick his wounds…Or well, this more formidable undertaking awaited. 

"No one ever died from not getting off." The blonde snorts a laugh and tugs a lock in his grip gently. "Sleep with me, and actually get some rest. I've got the first watch." There's no need to read between the lines. A decent night with plenty of rest is the most serious of luxuries in their formerly shared sphere. Kell takes his rather seriously. 

"Oh baby, you can make that up to me for the rest of your life if you want. No problem." A sweet dimple flashes on his cheek as he presses a quick kiss to the corner of the assassin's mouth, and eases back just a touch. "Next most pertinent question…D'ya want me to carry you, or are you still gonna do the stiff upper lip thing?"