Might be the part where we both get drunk and I let you put your hand up my skirt.
[Although that's not actually in the plans tonight (probably evident in the fact that he's in jeans and a vest, both tight enough to be sprayed on but decidedly unfeminine). There is no plan, per-se, but Freddie's a little drunk, and a little high from the night's earlier excesses, and there's a couch back here draped in faux-furs which seems too good a prospect to waste.
The heating doesn't exactly work, in his flat - not regularly - and he managed to break the bed a few weeks ago. The couch here pulls out into a better option, but he leaves it folded for now, reaching up to retrieve a couple of tumblers from one of the dressing room cupboards.]
But if you think you can work up to fucking me better in false eyelashes and heels, I'm sure I can dig you something out.
[ Eggsy snorts. ] You couldn't pay me to put glue near my eyes. [ He doesn't know how anyone does it. Heels on the other hand... well, he'd probably only wear them for Harry. ]
So you know everything I've been up to. [ He felt like he'd spoken a lot about himself earlier when they'd been texting (that's because he had). Now it was Freddie's turn. ] Anything exciting happen with you?
It's not superglue, for fuck's sake. You'd have an epidemic of blind drag queens.
[The dressing table has a scatter of make up across it. Freddie picks up a little bottle, glancing at it before dropping down to sit on the couch.]
Water based. And me? Nothing much.
[Though there's a nasty trail of bruises under his shirt that may eventually warrant some explanation. And a few on his neck which might be more obvious.]
I haven't decided to marry some old man for his fortune, or anything, unlike some of us.
[ Eggsy retaliates by picking up and throwing what looks like a chicken fillet towards Freddie's face (it's not chicken, it's a silicone enhancer for your bra left on the vanity table). ]
You're uninvited to the wedding. [ He pulls a face at Freddie's teasing, flicking on a light that illuminates a mirror with its frame of bulbs. The light means he can see Freddie's neck better and Eggsy raises an eyebrow at the bruises. ]
[ He's all laughter and grins until Freddie reveals how his neck actually came to be the way it is. Eggsy does come closer, but not for the drink - frowning, he steps forward to inspect the blond's neck up close. Not touching in case it'll hurt if it does, he sticks to looking, knowing Freddie won't want him to make a big deal out of it but he can be very protective when he wants to be - the moment he saw his mother with a black eye, he could have beaten Dean to a bloody pulp. ]
He knows not to try this shit with you again, yeah? 'Cos if he don't I'll send the prick a message. Attached to a brick I'll throw at his fuckin' face. [ Notice how he sounds even more like a chav when he's angry. ]
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no subject
[Although that's not actually in the plans tonight (probably evident in the fact that he's in jeans and a vest, both tight enough to be sprayed on but decidedly unfeminine). There is no plan, per-se, but Freddie's a little drunk, and a little high from the night's earlier excesses, and there's a couch back here draped in faux-furs which seems too good a prospect to waste.
The heating doesn't exactly work, in his flat - not regularly - and he managed to break the bed a few weeks ago. The couch here pulls out into a better option, but he leaves it folded for now, reaching up to retrieve a couple of tumblers from one of the dressing room cupboards.]
But if you think you can work up to fucking me better in false eyelashes and heels, I'm sure I can dig you something out.
no subject
So you know everything I've been up to. [ He felt like he'd spoken a lot about himself earlier when they'd been texting (that's because he had). Now it was Freddie's turn. ] Anything exciting happen with you?
no subject
[The dressing table has a scatter of make up across it. Freddie picks up a little bottle, glancing at it before dropping down to sit on the couch.]
Water based. And me? Nothing much.
[Though there's a nasty trail of bruises under his shirt that may eventually warrant some explanation. And a few on his neck which might be more obvious.]
I haven't decided to marry some old man for his fortune, or anything, unlike some of us.
no subject
You're uninvited to the wedding. [ He pulls a face at Freddie's teasing, flicking on a light that illuminates a mirror with its frame of bulbs. The light means he can see Freddie's neck better and Eggsy raises an eyebrow at the bruises. ]
Someone been playin' rough with you?
no subject
[Freddie has to think for a moment before he connects Eggsy's question with what prompted it, glancing across to the mirror, then shrugging.]
He threatened to dislocate my spine, it was very romantic. You should come over here.
[The subject change is made with a crook of his fingers and a little tip of the bottle before he opens it, pouring a measure into the cap.]
no subject
[ He's all laughter and grins until Freddie reveals how his neck actually came to be the way it is. Eggsy does come closer, but not for the drink - frowning, he steps forward to inspect the blond's neck up close. Not touching in case it'll hurt if it does, he sticks to looking, knowing Freddie won't want him to make a big deal out of it but he can be very protective when he wants to be - the moment he saw his mother with a black eye, he could have beaten Dean to a bloody pulp. ]
He knows not to try this shit with you again, yeah? 'Cos if he don't I'll send the prick a message. Attached to a brick I'll throw at his fuckin' face. [ Notice how he sounds even more like a chav when he's angry. ]