[Turning so he can keep watching, Iggy looks over the back of the couch and makes a brief, hiccupy noise.
He never laughs properly.]
Adam, this is why you're so dear to my heart. Yes, please, that sounds like heaven.
[He lounges prettily as he waits. He'd taken the opportunity to shower his body before Adam got home and he smells faintly of the man's soap. It's nice.]
That was a brutally long meeting. Was that Mandarin you were all speaking?
[The space is open so it's no hard to keep an eye on one another. Adams kitchen is small but functional. He shifts around putting on a kettle on while he reaches under the countertops and finds two earthenware bottles with matching cups and a bowl in a similar style. From a larger bottle set inside a small wine fridge in the counter he pours a generous amount into both of the containers and sets everything on small round wood tray that lives on his counter.
Once the kettle sounds Adam pours off the water into the smaller bowl so that the two containers can warm slowly. Once set he pads off to one corner of his flat with large floor to ceiling bookshelves. They contain a stereo system he turns on, it plays soft instrumental music when it comes to life as he turns it down to just the right volume to be soft background. The sound is crisp and clear and seemingly comes from everywhere as he grabs a box from a different shelf walking it towards the other and setting it on the large glass coffee table in the center of the couches and chairs. He leaves it for Iggy, he knows what to do, as he's walking back to the warming sake.]
Yes. It was. Keen ear, my love.
[Not that he expects anything less from Iggy. The young man was smart, and fun, if he wasn't than Adam certainly wouldn't allow him into his space so frequently.]
I have been working on this acquisition for months.
And I could not think of a better way to celebrate.
[Iggy loves rich people's apartments. The open concept, the view, the way everything is designed to be functional and unobtrusive... it delights him. He himself lives in a four-bedroom flat with five other people, with radiators that leak and a mystery stain on the living room ceiling.
But somehow he looks perfectly at home in Adam's space, quietly delighted to watch the warming of the sake.
He certainly knows what to do when it comes to that box. He's expertly cutting up lines immediately, and if he uses one of the metal straws to snort one before Adam returns, well. He thinks he's earned it.]
Congratulations, love. That's a huge amount of work. Your poor body must have been holding in tension for weeks.
[He sniffles, quickly scrubs his nose, sits back. If there's one thing he loves as much as sex, it's coke.]
[You'd never know the life Iggy lives. Adam knows only in passing conversations. But he will never venture to Iggys apartment, even with his exceeding interest in the young man. He doesn't do apartments, hasn't in a long long time.
He prefers his wide open spaces. Sprawling views and high ceilings. Iggy is welcome here at any point and that is he obvious preferred.
He doesn't ever find he other complaining.
He lets the other take his share first. So long as there are several lines waiting for Adam when he returns with he warmed sake and cups. Adam enjoys cocaine as well, it's one of he few drugs that he can still partake in with benefits. It goes straight to his head, but it takes about double the amount of coke for him to get even as high as Iggy plans on getting and he will process through it much quicker.
It's obnoxious, in some ways. All substances are like that now and the older he gets the worse it becomes. Liquor barely touches him now. Bottles and bottles can cross his lips before he starts to feel drunk, that was the first. But perhaps that was his own undoing considering the drunkard he was for so long.
Harder drugs are less so, but still quick to run their course.
But he still enjoys them both, drink for he flavor and drugs for the buzz.
He finally joins the other on the couch setting down the tray beside Iggy so that he can pour them both some sake while he dutifully takes his lines. Cleaning the glass table of his few before lining more for later.]
It's been exceedingly annoying. But I am contented in knowing that it is in the hands it needs to be in and I can sit back and reap it's rewards without further involvement.
[He takes one of the small cups and leans against the plush couch, enjoying a sip as he lets the cocaine settle in to himself. He'll savor the drink and plow the lines, as usual.]
If you want something to eat love I am sure Christian left something good in the fridge. [Adam barely ever eats, Iggy might be convinced at this point that the only thing that fuels the other man is drink.]
[Attentive as always, Iggy sits up to pour. He's very careful, not wanting to spill anything that probably costs a fortune. He takes his cup and sips. Sake is something he has rarely - really, only with Adam, and it always takes him a moment to get used to the taste.]
You spoil me. [Which really is the entire point.]
I'm alright. I fuck better on an empty stomach.
[Iggy adjusts himself so that he can reach over and caress Adam's thigh easily. Just soft, comforting brushes of his fingers.]
You should have yourself a spa day. Get a really deep tissue massage, you know? As terribly jealous the idea of someone else's hands all over you makes me.
[The both know that's a lie, so Iggy smiles when he says it. Of all his clients, Adam might be the least interested in pretending they're actually together.
He sips his sake, head cocking slightly to listen to the music. Instrumental. Very classy. Iggy grins suddenly, impish.]
Mmm, I enjoy he way you think. [He easily leans into the affection. Adam doesn't pretend to know that Iggys touches and words are anything more than a delicate act. Perfectly rehearsed to illicit the best responses from Adam.
He buys into it willingly.]
Perhaps I will take a holiday. Somewhere warm, maybe get a little colour. [Not that he will, it's nice to dream he'd ever have a tan grace his English flesh again.
The music is instrumental, but not funeral parlor-y. It's oriental with a steady modern beat with classical hints peppered throughout. The question about punk rock though raises his brow.]
Punk rock? Just what do you mean? Define it for me.
That sounds simply brilliant. I am ready for a long, brainless, vacation.
But until then, I suppose I will have a fun evening.
[Adam chuckles softly at his own words then sort of shifts as the conversation moves to his youth. He certainly didn't listen to the Dead Kennedys in his youth. The only sort of music they had back then were at stuffy parties from his parents shipping company.]
But I was certainly moody, but I didn't have much interest in music in my youth. I have grown to appreciate it more.
Of course, anything for you. [And he means that, he thinks about Iggy a lot. Perhaps more than you should a whore really, but he does and tries not to think too much about it.
When the other mentions vinyls and old players he smiles. He is somehow very not surprised. There is a reason he likes Iggy, and not cause he's one of the better fucks he's had in a while but because he's fun and different.
Coke makes him a little more chatty too. Perhaps one of the reasons he doesn't do it often, but there's an ease to his brain funnily enough when he's had it. He seems to travel away for a moment, thinking fondly of times long since go.]
Trina used to love music. And dancing. I think that's the last time I actually listened to music on vinyl of all bloody things. You know there is this modern age we live in? [He teases.]
If I paid for you to go, would that be something you would do?
[He doesn't assume that if he asked the other could just drop everything and go, no matter how well he paid him.
And he'd probably pay a pretty penny to have a whole weekend in the sun to do what he wanted to the other man.]
Hmmm... You remind me of her. She was feisty.
[He leans up and off the couch for a moment for a refresher. Refilling his sake and doing a pair of lines.]
Oya, I do not hate any music, but it is not all my cup of sake. [He smiles in amusement in his bland joke.] A few years back, I was quite into the original 'rock and roll' types. [He chuckles.] Harrison and Young, the early stuff. Even the Young after he joined Nash and the like. Hold on.
[Adam is high, it's easy to tell because he's loose and distracted. The normal tight shoulders and stiff body is more relaxed. The usual caged animal vibes he has melted under the placebo affect of the warm drink and altered state of mind.
He lifts to find a tablet on his table, everything in his house linked by one central hub. He's able to access his music with just a few finger flicks he pulls up this song.] Stuff like this, which you'll probably hate.
[He'll leave out the part where he was at that show in person. He doesn't often think of those times, before being locked away and tortured for over two decades.
[He nods, that's good to know. Probably not any time soon, Adam is going to need some him time during the holidays. But in the new year? He would happily drag Iggy along to one of his escape from winter moments.
He raises a brow, he leans in towards the other setting his arm on the couch beside the other. He's surprised, Iggy seems too young to partake in such things. He's truly an enigma.]
Really! No bullshit. I like lots of stuff, I told you. Even older stuff.
[Iggy leans in closer, smiling.]
I have records by The Stooges. The Beatles. ABBA. Dolly Parton. Doctor Hook. And yes, Van Morrison.
[He closes the gap and kisses Adam on the mouth, softly at first but swiftly more demanding. In short order he's crawling onto Adam's lap, straddling him as he kisses him hard.
He's starting to shrug out of his robe, Adam kissing his neck, when Iggy notices the woman standing by the kitchen.
He freezes, surprised. He's been to Adam's several times before and never seen anything odd.
The right move is to pretend he didn't see her. That usually gets them to go away.]
I have never been into The Beatles, despite being from England. I can't say I share in the masses enthusiasm for them. But the others are fairly enjoyable.
[When the other shifts to crawl into Adams lap he very happily accepts. He returns the kisses with equal interest, the music shifting back to the idle playlist it was on before as they do so.
He wraps his arms around the others thin waist and peppers Iggy's chest and neck in kisses, his hands gripping at the others ass in his lap somewhat roughly.
He doesn't even notice the slight shift in Iggy's ease, selfishly buried in his neck ravishing any sort of skin he can reach.
Iggy can ignore all he wants but the figure doesn't leave. She looks strange standing in the frame of the kitchen. Her clothing is plain, mostly dark coloured, and it's old much older than anything that should be in a space so modern.
She pulls a knit shawl over her shoulders tighter as she watches. Her gaze is fixated on Adam, barely taking notice of Iggy at all.]
[Iggy tries to return his attention to Adam, but every time he risks a glance he sees that the woman is still right there. She's looking at Adam, not him.
[Adam stops moving when Iggy speaks a name he hadn't heard in so long. It sobers him in an instant and takes everything in his power not to push the other man off him.]
Angelica? How do you know that name?! [Adam is a well of emotions now. The bright warmth he had been feeling replaced by a wall of anger and fear. He does not like to be known, and he likes even less that his fun time seems to know the most intimate of secrets he carries.]
[He knows that what he's done will ruin everything between them. No more good paying dates, no more mind blowing sex, no more fun between them. For the thousandth time, Iggy wishes he wasn't what he is.
[A lot of different emotions seem to happen all at once.
He settles on something akin to anger. He is very not amused and it is clear. He shifts from underneath the other and stands in front of him. When he does that the figure that Iggy had been focusing so on moves closer to Adam. She reaches out, she can't really touch him but she tries nonetheless. For obvious reasons Adam can not feel the attempt at quiet intimacy.]
This is not a game Ignatius.
How do you know about Angelica?
[He asks pointedly. The figure looks at Iggy and she apologizes for Adams anger, stating he's always been like this, she moves her hand to rest lightly just on his cheek and a he gives Iggy a secret, something only the two of them could know.
[Iggy stays on the couch, looking up at Adam with wide eyes. This situation has the potential to turn very ugly - he is, after all, alone with a man physically stronger than him. Nobody knows he's here. And Adam is more than rich enough to make problems vanish.]
I'm not playing games. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I'm not. I only know what she's saying. I can see her, I can hear her.
[He can see Adam isn't buying it. But then the ghost throws him a lifeline.]
She called you her dove. She loves you so much. She just wanted to make sure you're okay.
[Adam has made people disappear for less. But while he is angry, and somewhat confused, he's not much in a murderous mood. Especially when the other mentions her nickname for him. No one had ever had a pet name for him before Angelica. Adam suddenly looks desperate to see her, he figures it is pointless to try but he still does.]
My angel?
[He offers quietly his tone is soft, sweet. She smiles when she hears it and she sheds a few tears. It'd been years since she'd heard her name on his tongue. She stops in often, just to see. Never once forgetting about him. She never lingers, she always knew what he was. He had told her and she had been one of the only who had never cared. And even now, it seemed Adam had not forgotten either.]
[Iggy relaxes a little bit, the initial fear replaced with resignation.]
She checks in on you a lot. She says she knows what you are, and she never cared about that. She really loves you, so much.
[Iggy starts to collect himself from the couch. His clothes are not in the living room, but he's just going to abandon them. He can get his bag from the hall and call an Uber outside.
The ghost sees him moving, and when Iggy speaks it's as much to her as Adam.]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I have to go, I can't do this. I don't want this, I don't do this anymore.
[He tries to scoot away from Adam so he can stand.]
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He never laughs properly.]
Adam, this is why you're so dear to my heart. Yes, please, that sounds like heaven.
[He lounges prettily as he waits. He'd taken the opportunity to shower his body before Adam got home and he smells faintly of the man's soap. It's nice.]
That was a brutally long meeting. Was that Mandarin you were all speaking?
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Once the kettle sounds Adam pours off the water into the smaller bowl so that the two containers can warm slowly. Once set he pads off to one corner of his flat with large floor to ceiling bookshelves. They contain a stereo system he turns on, it plays soft instrumental music when it comes to life as he turns it down to just the right volume to be soft background. The sound is crisp and clear and seemingly comes from everywhere as he grabs a box from a different shelf walking it towards the other and setting it on the large glass coffee table in the center of the couches and chairs. He leaves it for Iggy, he knows what to do, as he's walking back to the warming sake.]
Yes. It was. Keen ear, my love.
[Not that he expects anything less from Iggy. The young man was smart, and fun, if he wasn't than Adam certainly wouldn't allow him into his space so frequently.]
I have been working on this acquisition for months.
And I could not think of a better way to celebrate.
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But somehow he looks perfectly at home in Adam's space, quietly delighted to watch the warming of the sake.
He certainly knows what to do when it comes to that box. He's expertly cutting up lines immediately, and if he uses one of the metal straws to snort one before Adam returns, well. He thinks he's earned it.]
Congratulations, love. That's a huge amount of work. Your poor body must have been holding in tension for weeks.
[He sniffles, quickly scrubs his nose, sits back. If there's one thing he loves as much as sex, it's coke.]
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He prefers his wide open spaces. Sprawling views and high ceilings. Iggy is welcome here at any point and that is he obvious preferred.
He doesn't ever find he other complaining.
He lets the other take his share first. So long as there are several lines waiting for Adam when he returns with he warmed sake and cups. Adam enjoys cocaine as well, it's one of he few drugs that he can still partake in with benefits. It goes straight to his head, but it takes about double the amount of coke for him to get even as high as Iggy plans on getting and he will process through it much quicker.
It's obnoxious, in some ways. All substances are like that now and the older he gets the worse it becomes. Liquor barely touches him now. Bottles and bottles can cross his lips before he starts to feel drunk, that was the first. But perhaps that was his own undoing considering the drunkard he was for so long.
Harder drugs are less so, but still quick to run their course.
But he still enjoys them both, drink for he flavor and drugs for the buzz.
He finally joins the other on the couch setting down the tray beside Iggy so that he can pour them both some sake while he dutifully takes his lines. Cleaning the glass table of his few before lining more for later.]
It's been exceedingly annoying. But I am contented in knowing that it is in the hands it needs to be in and I can sit back and reap it's rewards without further involvement.
[He takes one of the small cups and leans against the plush couch, enjoying a sip as he lets the cocaine settle in to himself. He'll savor the drink and plow the lines, as usual.]
If you want something to eat love I am sure Christian left something good in the fridge. [Adam barely ever eats, Iggy might be convinced at this point that the only thing that fuels the other man is drink.]
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You spoil me. [Which really is the entire point.]
I'm alright. I fuck better on an empty stomach.
[Iggy adjusts himself so that he can reach over and caress Adam's thigh easily. Just soft, comforting brushes of his fingers.]
You should have yourself a spa day. Get a really deep tissue massage, you know? As terribly jealous the idea of someone else's hands all over you makes me.
[The both know that's a lie, so Iggy smiles when he says it. Of all his clients, Adam might be the least interested in pretending they're actually together.
He sips his sake, head cocking slightly to listen to the music. Instrumental. Very classy. Iggy grins suddenly, impish.]
Adam. Have you ever been to a punk rock show?
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He buys into it willingly.]
Perhaps I will take a holiday. Somewhere warm, maybe get a little colour. [Not that he will, it's nice to dream he'd ever have a tan grace his English flesh again.
The music is instrumental, but not funeral parlor-y. It's oriental with a steady modern beat with classical hints peppered throughout. The question about punk rock though raises his brow.]
Punk rock? Just what do you mean? Define it for me.
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Oh, that would be a wonderful idea! Someplace tropical. Beautiful blue water, not a cloud in the sky...
[Iggy almost-laughs.]
Like, The Stooges, or the Dead Kennedys. I'm just trying to picture you as an angry teenager and failing miserably.
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But until then, I suppose I will have a fun evening.
[Adam chuckles softly at his own words then sort of shifts as the conversation moves to his youth. He certainly didn't listen to the Dead Kennedys in his youth. The only sort of music they had back then were at stuffy parties from his parents shipping company.]
But I was certainly moody, but I didn't have much interest in music in my youth. I have grown to appreciate it more.
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Yeah? That's fair enough.
[Coke makes him chattier. He's still good at not letting it get annoying, but he definitely is more animated.]
I love music. I have a record player, and a vinyl collection. All types of music, too.
[He reigns it in, aware that Adam probably doesn't give a shit.
He squeezes Adam's thigh.]
Not trying to pry. I just find you so fascinating.
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When the other mentions vinyls and old players he smiles. He is somehow very not surprised. There is a reason he likes Iggy, and not cause he's one of the better fucks he's had in a while but because he's fun and different.
Coke makes him a little more chatty too. Perhaps one of the reasons he doesn't do it often, but there's an ease to his brain funnily enough when he's had it. He seems to travel away for a moment, thinking fondly of times long since go.]
Trina used to love music. And dancing. I think that's the last time I actually listened to music on vinyl of all bloody things. You know there is this modern age we live in? [He teases.]
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He keeps his hand on Adam's thigh.]
Well, she and I have that in common. Was that your wife?
[He laughs silently.] Well, vinyl sounds better anyway. Warmer. I could show you so much music, though... you'd probably hate it.
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[He doesn't assume that if he asked the other could just drop everything and go, no matter how well he paid him.
And he'd probably pay a pretty penny to have a whole weekend in the sun to do what he wanted to the other man.]
Hmmm... You remind me of her. She was feisty.
[He leans up and off the couch for a moment for a refresher. Refilling his sake and doing a pair of lines.]
Oya, I do not hate any music, but it is not all my cup of sake. [He smiles in amusement in his bland joke.] A few years back, I was quite into the original 'rock and roll' types. [He chuckles.] Harrison and Young, the early stuff. Even the Young after he joined Nash and the like. Hold on.
[Adam is high, it's easy to tell because he's loose and distracted. The normal tight shoulders and stiff body is more relaxed. The usual caged animal vibes he has melted under the placebo affect of the warm drink and altered state of mind.
He lifts to find a tablet on his table, everything in his house linked by one central hub. He's able to access his music with just a few finger flicks he pulls up this song.] Stuff like this, which you'll probably hate.
[He'll leave out the part where he was at that show in person. He doesn't often think of those times, before being locked away and tortured for over two decades.
Except for in strange weird moments like this.]
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[Zero hesitation.
'Was.' Iggy assumes that means she's dead, and it opens a door in his heart. He can't help but feel for the living who are left behind.]
Yeah? Well, two things in common, then.
[While Adam gets his tablet Iggy leans over to help himself to another line. Another reason to adore Adam: his drugs are high quality.
He sits back, eyes bright, wiping at his nose and listening with unfeigned interest. He grins.]
Van Morrison? You think I'd hate Van Morrison? Adam. Please. I love it.
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He raises a brow, he leans in towards the other setting his arm on the couch beside the other. He's surprised, Iggy seems too young to partake in such things. He's truly an enigma.]
Really? You like Van Morrison huh?
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[Iggy leans in closer, smiling.]
I have records by The Stooges. The Beatles. ABBA. Dolly Parton. Doctor Hook. And yes, Van Morrison.
[He closes the gap and kisses Adam on the mouth, softly at first but swiftly more demanding. In short order he's crawling onto Adam's lap, straddling him as he kisses him hard.
He's starting to shrug out of his robe, Adam kissing his neck, when Iggy notices the woman standing by the kitchen.
He freezes, surprised. He's been to Adam's several times before and never seen anything odd.
The right move is to pretend he didn't see her. That usually gets them to go away.]
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[When the other shifts to crawl into Adams lap he very happily accepts. He returns the kisses with equal interest, the music shifting back to the idle playlist it was on before as they do so.
He wraps his arms around the others thin waist and peppers Iggy's chest and neck in kisses, his hands gripping at the others ass in his lap somewhat roughly.
He doesn't even notice the slight shift in Iggy's ease, selfishly buried in his neck ravishing any sort of skin he can reach.
Iggy can ignore all he wants but the figure doesn't leave. She looks strange standing in the frame of the kitchen. Her clothing is plain, mostly dark coloured, and it's old much older than anything that should be in a space so modern.
She pulls a knit shawl over her shoulders tighter as she watches. Her gaze is fixated on Adam, barely taking notice of Iggy at all.]
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The coke really isn't helping Iggy stay calm.]
...Adam. Your wife... was she a brunette?
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The brown hair throws him off. Since they had been speaking about Trina he shakes his head.]
No, not really. She was African American.
[He keeps his hands on the others ass but pulls away a bit to meet the others gaze.]
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[He has to pull his gaze away from the woman watching them. He looks at Adam and tries a smile, but it falters badly.
She says her name.
Still trying to smile, a single tear escapes him. He hates this. But he can't ignore her.]
Who's Angelica?
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Angelica? How do you know that name?! [Adam is a well of emotions now. The bright warmth he had been feeling replaced by a wall of anger and fear. He does not like to be known, and he likes even less that his fun time seems to know the most intimate of secrets he carries.]
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He swallows hard.]
Because she just told me.
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He settles on something akin to anger. He is very not amused and it is clear. He shifts from underneath the other and stands in front of him. When he does that the figure that Iggy had been focusing so on moves closer to Adam. She reaches out, she can't really touch him but she tries nonetheless. For obvious reasons Adam can not feel the attempt at quiet intimacy.]
This is not a game Ignatius.
How do you know about Angelica?
[He asks pointedly. The figure looks at Iggy and she apologizes for Adams anger, stating he's always been like this, she moves her hand to rest lightly just on his cheek and a he gives Iggy a secret, something only the two of them could know.
She calls him her dove.]
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I'm not playing games. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I'm not. I only know what she's saying. I can see her, I can hear her.
[He can see Adam isn't buying it. But then the ghost throws him a lifeline.]
She called you her dove. She loves you so much. She just wanted to make sure you're okay.
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My angel?
[He offers quietly his tone is soft, sweet. She smiles when she hears it and she sheds a few tears. It'd been years since she'd heard her name on his tongue. She stops in often, just to see. Never once forgetting about him. She never lingers, she always knew what he was. He had told her and she had been one of the only who had never cared. And even now, it seemed Adam had not forgotten either.]
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[Iggy relaxes a little bit, the initial fear replaced with resignation.]
She checks in on you a lot. She says she knows what you are, and she never cared about that. She really loves you, so much.
[Iggy starts to collect himself from the couch. His clothes are not in the living room, but he's just going to abandon them. He can get his bag from the hall and call an Uber outside.
The ghost sees him moving, and when Iggy speaks it's as much to her as Adam.]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I have to go, I can't do this. I don't want this, I don't do this anymore.
[He tries to scoot away from Adam so he can stand.]
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