[ The thing about being a socialist and a politician is that it doesn't really mesh. Even away from France as he is currently, he's been set up with a luxury apartment, fully furnished (not his style, granted, but he's filled in with a few art deco tidbits here and there) and utilities paid by the party. Claude knows most people don't live this way, he knows he's extremely fortunate, privileged, but at the same time he can't do too much about that discrepancy unless he carries out his work from the top - and the work pays well, so we're back to square one. It's a vicious circle.
He steps aside once he's opened for Jamie, smiling widely and showing him inside his kitchen - state of the art, every kind of equipment you could ask for, and only hesitating for a moment before asking, neutrally, no expectations one way or the other: ]
[ It all looks a lot more comfortable than his own cramped, shared apartment, but that's more or less what he expected. Jamie's interest appears to be genuine as he follows and looks around, shifting the messenger bag around him carefully to avoid knocking into anything as he does.
The question makes him brighten even further, and his answer's pretty much immediate. ] Yeah. [ And then, with a little laugh as he moves closer: ] Kinda weird to be on the other side of that question for once.
[ He's always been a touchy person. And despite what they're here to talk about, it is just a hug that he goes in for, warm and solid and friendly. ]
[ The hug is warm and without hesitation and Claude leans into it, holding Jamie close by the back of his neck for a second, then drawing back and patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. It's hard letting go once he's in close again. ]
Get out of the outerwear and sit down -- [ A gesture at the kitchen table, sizeable and with a bottle of sparkling water set out and a lone glass from earlier. ] -- do you want something to drink while we decide what to eat? I've got sparkling water, some variety of coke and wine, a Sauvignon I got from a collab partner. Haven't touched it, because it's sad drinking expensive wine by yourself.
[ A moment's pause as he listens to himself, realizing he sounds like his mother and grimazing slightly, shaking his head as he walks over to the fridge, opening it before glancing at the other man, waiting for Jamie to take a seat. The lights are lowered up above the kitchen table, a cozy golden glow. ]
Sorry. I'm nervous.
[ He says it easily, like admitting to it isn't a little bit humiliating. ]
[ He sets his bag aside, finishes making himself comfortable -- shedding the tie that's already been loosened by his fidgeting, rolling up his sleeves. The seat he slides into is across the table, where he can still watch Claude in the kitchen, and Jamie feels a little bit caught at it when he looks over, smile bashful as he shrugs. ]
It's okay. I kind of am, too, so--
[ As if the way his hands fidget together on the table doesn't give that away already. It's mild, second to worry over what Claude might have to say, but it's still there, and he's never been good at hiding it. ]
Um, coke or wine's fine by me. Depends on if you want a real drink or not. [ He's pretty much willing to play this whichever way will be easier. ]
[ Nod, nod, he exchanges the sparkling water on the table (woefully lukewarm at this point anyway) with a ice cold coke, two new glasses and a moment's hesitation, again, when he considers the wine. Whether to get two wine glasses. Eventually deciding against it, he smiles and closes the fridge with a shove of his shoulder, sitting down opposite the other man, watching the way his hands are fidgeting.
Not the only one, then. Claude's smile softens and he reaches over, folding his fingers over Jamie's restless ones, squeezing them once. ]
Let's not drink this time. While I don't regret what happened, I think I'd like to be able to remember whatever happens now a bit more clearly.
[ It's said with a shrug and a half-laugh that doesn't neglect their night together, but neither does it ignore that they totally did that on the wrong foundation. He'd have liked to be sober. So he'll be sober this time around. Another squeeze and he withdraws his hand, folding them on top of the table, licking his lips and taking a moment to find the right words. Where to even start. ]
[ His hands still under the touch, old habits, but it's not hard to see that it's welcome, his expression soft. ]
Alright. [ Easy and accepting, and just the slightest bit sheepish. It's maybe not the best foot to start off on -- but there's worse positions to be in, right?
He twists so his fingers brush against Claude's as he withdraws, thumb swiping lightly against his wrist in a fond gesture. ] It sounded pretty important, whatever you wanted to tell me, so. Probably better not to be cloudy for it. [ It's a gentle invitation, not prompting so much as making it clear that he's willing to listen. Jamie leans against the table towards him, arms folded, eyes fixed on Claude. ]
[ The touch lingers and Claude rubs over the place where Jamie touched him, thoughtfully, like it's slow to register, but not that it's unwelcome. Just foreign. He hasn't actually had a relationship to anyone for years. This is all a new experience, and he wants it that way. ]
You're right. [ A small wave of his hand, to indicate - onward and upward - then a shake of his head, not to say no, but to say time. Give him time. New things take getting used to and he's getting used to it as he goes, right now. ] Again, like I said, it's nothing terrible. It's not my whole criminal record, though that would probably be a shorter affair to retell... [ A scoff. He's doing it again. Nervousness. Stalling. ] Jamie, it's not about anything that's even to do with us, it's -- before. It's about me. Why I can't promise it'll be simple, with us. You know?
[ Licking his lips, he rubs over the place Jamie touched before again, just feeling for the residual heat that isn't even a physical thing. ]
I haven't dated for years. Mostly because I'm not -- very good at it. Because there was someone, when I was younger, who taught me some really fucked-up dynamics and although I'm working on it, some of it sticks, still. It might stick forever.
[ Jamie is quiet. Patient. He'll let Claude take as long as he needs, stalling and all, just listening.
His fingers fidget on the table again for a moment with that confession, and this time it's purely from the urge to reach out and offer comfort. But he figures there might be a reason there's a table between them for this, so he stays on his side, drawing his legs up to cross beneath him and leaning a little harder onto the table. ]
[ The fidgeting doesn't go unnoticed and Claude longs to bridge the distance between them, every way imaginable, but there's a time and a place for everything - and while this may be the place, the time isn't right. There are things to settle first. Decide.
So he clears his throat and looks off to the side for a moment at Jamie's question. As always, he's discovered this is part of the process for him, when he says, I'm sorry, Claude thinks, for what, it was my own fault.
Logically, he knows it's untrue. Incorrect. But his system still reacts that way, like it was programmed to do so. And, supposedly, in some ways, it was. ]
Eight years. I was 17. He -- was a lot older. And my high school teacher. It was a mess in every way you can imagine.
[ It's not the most tactful response, but he's not always great at keeping a lid on his reactions. There's nothing negative in the tone, though. Just surprise, and sympathy.
He's still watching Claude, soft and thoughtful. ]
[ Pause. He chews his lip for a moment, then sighs. ]
This isn't to info dump on you, I swear, it's just. It's had some unfortunate side effects and those are the reason I haven't dated for a long time. I've tried to sort myself out first, but I'm getting to the point where I -- it'll have to get better as part of a process, I think.
[ He leans forward on his elbows a bit, waving one hand loosely to indicate Jamie, then himself. ]
I just don't want you to be that process without knowing what you could be getting yourself into. I want you to have the chance to say no.
[ A brief pause. Jamie's face is an open book a lot of the the time, and right now he just looks thoughtful -- trying to put the words together before he opens his mouth. ]
It doesn't really change anything for me. I'm -- I like you a lot. I don't mind if there's... stuff to work through.
[ The words settle with him heavily, like stones, but like stones falling from his back and shoulders, his stance righting slightly and his breathing evening out. Then, he smiles, wide and open. ]
I'm glad. I like you a lot, too. I think it's a first where I've liked anyone enough to actually... pursue them. [ A purse of his lips and he finally, finally reaches over and takes Jamie's hand, by the wrist, wrapping his fingers around it, feeling his pulse point. ] I want you to know, you're special that way and I'll do my best to let it stay like that.
[ He shifts a little more forward at that touch, his hand open and relaxed. Smiles at Claude softly, a little shy. ]
Not like this is -- a comparison or anything, but I've only been involved with anyone to try and keep people from asking questions? Girls, in high school. [ He shrugs slightly, leaning his chin in his other hand. ] So, um -- it's a first for me, too.
[ Claude watches him for a long moment, head tilted to the side, expression thoughtful. Then, he lights up in a smile and shakes his head, not to mean no, but as if to say, it doesn't matter. Unimportant. ]
I'll do my best, okay? [ He releases Jamie's hand and reaches up to catch his chin between thumb and index finger before caressing his jawline softly. ] We can do our best together.
[ There's quiet nerves running through him at that pause, and it feels a little like Jamie's holding his breath for a moment. It melts off of him at Claude's smile, the worry that's been bouncing around since their text conversation dropping away once and for all. He's not sure what he'd been expecting, but this, just knowing that there might be something they have to navigate carefully -- that, he can handle.
He's fairly sure he can handle it, anyway. He's always been optimistic, especially when it comes to people. ]
Yeah. I think we can manage that. [ He's leaning into that touch, his eyes shutting for a moment just to appreciate it, before he laughs quietly. ] God, I really thought everything was just going to be, like -- unbelievably awkward now, for a little while there. I'm so glad that's not how this turned out.
[ A laugh to match Jamie's and he slowly, slightly reluctantly withdraws his hand, fingertips tingling from touching his skin, feeling the heat of him.
Leaning back in his seat, he extends his legs beneath the table, his sock-clad feet finding Jamie's shins after a minute, folding around them childishly. He just really wanna touch him, okay. You can't blame him. ]
[ He won't blame him, and he definitely won't stop him. Even when it's purely friendly, Jamie would generally rather be touching than not, just as a way of showing affection. Right now... well, it's kind of hard to stay on the other side of the table.
He gives Claude a bright little smile, playfully trapping one of his ankles between his own legs for a moment. ] Please. Whatever you want to get, I'm not picky.
[ The mood has settled between them, Claude feeling light inside and kind of floating. He hasn't truly been in love-love since Rainier, this relationship thing is a first for them both and that only makes it feel better somehow.
Waving one hand slightly, showing that he doesn't particularly care either, there are things he's rather do right now than eat, he fishes out his phone from his pocket and goes to order something they can eat easily when it arrives. ]
There's a West African restaurant that delivers just down the street, their thiéboudienne is good. Fish in tomato paste and lots of spices.
[ Wriggling his ankle slightly, he starts tapping the order in on his phone, saying - because he gets the feeling that Jamie is the type to need reassurance for these things. ]
[ He just watches Claude as his attention shifts to his phone, his expression soft and open. Appreciating the chance to study him openly. Not that he's avoided it before, exactly, but it feels all new, somehow. Like the ways things have shifted between them should be tangible. ]
No, that sounds pretty good. I like trying new stuff.
[ And like most broke college students, he'll pretty much eat whatever anyone puts in front of him.
He doesn't want to make Claude uncomfortable by staring, and Jamie shifts after a few moments, glancing around, taking more of the area in. Leans back to stretch, asking with idle curiosity: ] How big is this place? It looks comfortable.
[ Sending off the order first, Claude looks up and follows Jamie's gaze around the place, appreciating the chance to get to see it through other eyes than his own. You can get used to a lot of things, especially things you shouldn't take for granted, so this is a nice chance to see his big kitchen with its appliances and the look into the living room, wide, big window panel with a view of the city's upper levels from a new angle. ]
Two bedrooms, one which I use for office, a pretty spacey bathroom and the living room - as well as in here. [ He puts his phone down and gestures to the kitchen. ] Big by your usual city standards, bigger than my Paris place, too, though I pay my own rent in France, of course. This is paid by the party while I do my work over here. You want to have a look? I can show you around.
[ Waiting with getting up until Jamie has confirmed he wants to, Claude remains seated and looks back at the other man, cocking his head to one side, openly. Whatever you want, it means. We'll do. ]
I thought it'd be more hotel-like, for some reason. One of those budget stays with the tiny kitchen that you can barely boil water in.
[Said with a little laugh. He's well aware his expectations are probably pretty skewed from Claude's reality in a lot of areas, at least partly because he is extremely American, and not very well-studied about other places. But at least it doesn't seem to get in the way where it's important. And Jamie's always open to being corrected, learning something new.
He pushes back from the table, walks around it to offer his hand out to Claude with a warm smile.] Come on, show me around, and then we can sit down somewhere more comfortable. [Said with absolutely no suggestiveness in it. He'd be happy to just hang out on the couch for a while -- he figures they'll work it out one step at a time.]
To be honest, Jamie, I'd probably have preferred it to be. This is really spending above spending. I could've survived with less and the money could've been spent on more important things than -- [ Getting to his feet, he points towards the top-notch coffee maker with, like, ten different settings and a built-in foamer. ] -- my daily caffe lattes, you know?
[ But then, Jamie says, come on, and holds out his hand so Claude crosses over, moving around the table and takes his hand easily, interlacing their fingers before more or less dragging him into the living room in a way that says, but now that you're here and the apartment is here, let's make use of it. The window panels are big and let out all the light of the city, multi-coloured and blinking, it's recently rained which crystallizes the light as well, fractures it somehow. It's all very pretty. Claude lifts Jamie's hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles lightly before continuing, completely naturally, ]
Okay. Living room. I do online zumba classes in here when I can't make it to them gym. Just... You gotta move the table and the sofa a bit.
[ He smiles a bit sheepishly. If you'll call zumba dancing, he still dances a little bit. A tiny little bit. ]
[Claude's hand is warm in his, and that little gesture is slightly distracting distracting. Jamie's expression is downright smitten, and he makes himself look away after a few moments to actually get a look around.]
Oh, yeah, that'd work pretty well. Surprised there's not some kinda home gym they pushed on you. [He grins, drifting slightly towards the windows to check out the view, never letting go of Claude's hand.]
[ Claude follows him, looking out the windows, the view gorgeous. Grinning, he shrugs one shoulder and comments: ]
Politicians aren't known to be fit, I guess must be the implication.
[ Giving the other man's hand a slight pull, he steps up to him and looks at him with his head tilted, a small frown on his face. It's part if it, how he doesn't just lean in to kiss him, but rather hesitates a moment and then, simply, asks: ]
no need to match my length, if you don't feel like it, it was just to set the scene!
He steps aside once he's opened for Jamie, smiling widely and showing him inside his kitchen - state of the art, every kind of equipment you could ask for, and only hesitating for a moment before asking, neutrally, no expectations one way or the other: ]
Would a hug be okay?
cool! i tend to go back and forth a little tbh
The question makes him brighten even further, and his answer's pretty much immediate. ] Yeah. [ And then, with a little laugh as he moves closer: ] Kinda weird to be on the other side of that question for once.
[ He's always been a touchy person. And despite what they're here to talk about, it is just a hug that he goes in for, warm and solid and friendly. ]
whatever floats the boat and the ship!
Get out of the outerwear and sit down -- [ A gesture at the kitchen table, sizeable and with a bottle of sparkling water set out and a lone glass from earlier. ] -- do you want something to drink while we decide what to eat? I've got sparkling water, some variety of coke and wine, a Sauvignon I got from a collab partner. Haven't touched it, because it's sad drinking expensive wine by yourself.
[ A moment's pause as he listens to himself, realizing he sounds like his mother and grimazing slightly, shaking his head as he walks over to the fridge, opening it before glancing at the other man, waiting for Jamie to take a seat. The lights are lowered up above the kitchen table, a cozy golden glow. ]
Sorry. I'm nervous.
[ He says it easily, like admitting to it isn't a little bit humiliating. ]
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It's okay. I kind of am, too, so--
[ As if the way his hands fidget together on the table doesn't give that away already. It's mild, second to worry over what Claude might have to say, but it's still there, and he's never been good at hiding it. ]
Um, coke or wine's fine by me. Depends on if you want a real drink or not. [ He's pretty much willing to play this whichever way will be easier. ]
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Not the only one, then. Claude's smile softens and he reaches over, folding his fingers over Jamie's restless ones, squeezing them once. ]
Let's not drink this time. While I don't regret what happened, I think I'd like to be able to remember whatever happens now a bit more clearly.
[ It's said with a shrug and a half-laugh that doesn't neglect their night together, but neither does it ignore that they totally did that on the wrong foundation. He'd have liked to be sober. So he'll be sober this time around. Another squeeze and he withdraws his hand, folding them on top of the table, licking his lips and taking a moment to find the right words. Where to even start. ]
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Alright. [ Easy and accepting, and just the slightest bit sheepish. It's maybe not the best foot to start off on -- but there's worse positions to be in, right?
He twists so his fingers brush against Claude's as he withdraws, thumb swiping lightly against his wrist in a fond gesture. ] It sounded pretty important, whatever you wanted to tell me, so. Probably better not to be cloudy for it. [ It's a gentle invitation, not prompting so much as making it clear that he's willing to listen. Jamie leans against the table towards him, arms folded, eyes fixed on Claude. ]
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You're right. [ A small wave of his hand, to indicate - onward and upward - then a shake of his head, not to say no, but to say time. Give him time. New things take getting used to and he's getting used to it as he goes, right now. ] Again, like I said, it's nothing terrible. It's not my whole criminal record, though that would probably be a shorter affair to retell... [ A scoff. He's doing it again. Nervousness. Stalling. ] Jamie, it's not about anything that's even to do with us, it's -- before. It's about me. Why I can't promise it'll be simple, with us. You know?
[ Licking his lips, he rubs over the place Jamie touched before again, just feeling for the residual heat that isn't even a physical thing. ]
I haven't dated for years. Mostly because I'm not -- very good at it. Because there was someone, when I was younger, who taught me some really fucked-up dynamics and although I'm working on it, some of it sticks, still. It might stick forever.
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His fingers fidget on the table again for a moment with that confession, and this time it's purely from the urge to reach out and offer comfort. But he figures there might be a reason there's a table between them for this, so he stays on his side, drawing his legs up to cross beneath him and leaning a little harder onto the table. ]
I'm sorry. [ Quiet and genuine. ] How long ago?
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So he clears his throat and looks off to the side for a moment at Jamie's question. As always, he's discovered this is part of the process for him, when he says, I'm sorry, Claude thinks, for what, it was my own fault.
Logically, he knows it's untrue. Incorrect. But his system still reacts that way, like it was programmed to do so. And, supposedly, in some ways, it was. ]
Eight years. I was 17. He -- was a lot older. And my high school teacher. It was a mess in every way you can imagine.
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[ It's not the most tactful response, but he's not always great at keeping a lid on his reactions. There's nothing negative in the tone, though. Just surprise, and sympathy.
He's still watching Claude, soft and thoughtful. ]
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I know.
[ Pause. He chews his lip for a moment, then sighs. ]
This isn't to info dump on you, I swear, it's just. It's had some unfortunate side effects and those are the reason I haven't dated for a long time. I've tried to sort myself out first, but I'm getting to the point where I -- it'll have to get better as part of a process, I think.
[ He leans forward on his elbows a bit, waving one hand loosely to indicate Jamie, then himself. ]
I just don't want you to be that process without knowing what you could be getting yourself into. I want you to have the chance to say no.
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[ A brief pause. Jamie's face is an open book a lot of the the time, and right now he just looks thoughtful -- trying to put the words together before he opens his mouth. ]
It doesn't really change anything for me. I'm -- I like you a lot. I don't mind if there's... stuff to work through.
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I'm glad. I like you a lot, too. I think it's a first where I've liked anyone enough to actually... pursue them. [ A purse of his lips and he finally, finally reaches over and takes Jamie's hand, by the wrist, wrapping his fingers around it, feeling his pulse point. ] I want you to know, you're special that way and I'll do my best to let it stay like that.
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Not like this is -- a comparison or anything, but I've only been involved with anyone to try and keep people from asking questions? Girls, in high school. [ He shrugs slightly, leaning his chin in his other hand. ] So, um -- it's a first for me, too.
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I'll do my best, okay? [ He releases Jamie's hand and reaches up to catch his chin between thumb and index finger before caressing his jawline softly. ] We can do our best together.
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He's fairly sure he can handle it, anyway. He's always been optimistic, especially when it comes to people. ]
Yeah. I think we can manage that. [ He's leaning into that touch, his eyes shutting for a moment just to appreciate it, before he laughs quietly. ] God, I really thought everything was just going to be, like -- unbelievably awkward now, for a little while there. I'm so glad that's not how this turned out.
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[ A laugh to match Jamie's and he slowly, slightly reluctantly withdraws his hand, fingertips tingling from touching his skin, feeling the heat of him.
Leaning back in his seat, he extends his legs beneath the table, his sock-clad feet finding Jamie's shins after a minute, folding around them childishly. He just really wanna touch him, okay. You can't blame him. ]
Do you want something to eat? I'll order for us.
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He gives Claude a bright little smile, playfully trapping one of his ankles between his own legs for a moment. ] Please. Whatever you want to get, I'm not picky.
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Waving one hand slightly, showing that he doesn't particularly care either, there are things he's rather do right now than eat, he fishes out his phone from his pocket and goes to order something they can eat easily when it arrives. ]
There's a West African restaurant that delivers just down the street, their thiéboudienne is good. Fish in tomato paste and lots of spices.
[ Wriggling his ankle slightly, he starts tapping the order in on his phone, saying - because he gets the feeling that Jamie is the type to need reassurance for these things. ]
Let me know if you're not a fan of fish.
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No, that sounds pretty good. I like trying new stuff.
[ And like most broke college students, he'll pretty much eat whatever anyone puts in front of him.
He doesn't want to make Claude uncomfortable by staring, and Jamie shifts after a few moments, glancing around, taking more of the area in. Leans back to stretch, asking with idle curiosity: ] How big is this place? It looks comfortable.
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Two bedrooms, one which I use for office, a pretty spacey bathroom and the living room - as well as in here. [ He puts his phone down and gestures to the kitchen. ] Big by your usual city standards, bigger than my Paris place, too, though I pay my own rent in France, of course. This is paid by the party while I do my work over here. You want to have a look? I can show you around.
[ Waiting with getting up until Jamie has confirmed he wants to, Claude remains seated and looks back at the other man, cocking his head to one side, openly. Whatever you want, it means. We'll do. ]
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[Said with a little laugh. He's well aware his expectations are probably pretty skewed from Claude's reality in a lot of areas, at least partly because he is extremely American, and not very well-studied about other places. But at least it doesn't seem to get in the way where it's important. And Jamie's always open to being corrected, learning something new.
He pushes back from the table, walks around it to offer his hand out to Claude with a warm smile.] Come on, show me around, and then we can sit down somewhere more comfortable. [Said with absolutely no suggestiveness in it. He'd be happy to just hang out on the couch for a while -- he figures they'll work it out one step at a time.]
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[ But then, Jamie says, come on, and holds out his hand so Claude crosses over, moving around the table and takes his hand easily, interlacing their fingers before more or less dragging him into the living room in a way that says, but now that you're here and the apartment is here, let's make use of it. The window panels are big and let out all the light of the city, multi-coloured and blinking, it's recently rained which crystallizes the light as well, fractures it somehow. It's all very pretty. Claude lifts Jamie's hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles lightly before continuing, completely naturally, ]
Okay. Living room. I do online zumba classes in here when I can't make it to them gym. Just... You gotta move the table and the sofa a bit.
[ He smiles a bit sheepishly. If you'll call zumba dancing, he still dances a little bit. A tiny little bit. ]
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Oh, yeah, that'd work pretty well. Surprised there's not some kinda home gym they pushed on you. [He grins, drifting slightly towards the windows to check out the view, never letting go of Claude's hand.]
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Politicians aren't known to be fit, I guess must be the implication.
[ Giving the other man's hand a slight pull, he steps up to him and looks at him with his head tilted, a small frown on his face. It's part if it, how he doesn't just lean in to kiss him, but rather hesitates a moment and then, simply, asks: ]
Would you mind if I kissed you?
[ All of the city at their feet, basically. ]
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