[The Beefsteak is similarly decorated upstairs as it is down. A Gentleman’s club, it is designed with its members in mind, and unlike White’s where the intent had obviously been to throw the members’ importance in each other’s faces, the Beefsteak had been very much a home away from home. A place to sit and read, have a quiet conversation. A hearty meal, or a decent night’s rest. John has partaken in all of the above on many on occasion, and considers the Beefsteak as much a home to him as any. Perhaps more so than some, at that.
Pushing open the door to the bedroom he has claimed for his own, John leads Geralt inside. True to the design of the place, there are others, if he were to have guests. They are the only two there today, however, and he is certainly not expecting anyone else.
The room itself is probably somewhat ornate by regular standards, but it’s homely for John. There is a large, comfortable bed (as promised), and a fire in the hearth which John magically has a new stock of wood for each day. He has not found a need for the missing staff so far at all in this place, in fact. A part of the magic of the Horizon, he supposes.
Ushering Geralt inside, he moves to shut the door behind them, turning toward the other man once that’s been done with a somewhat self-conscious smile.]
Courted. [He repeats.] I think I can manage that.
[Maybe not carrying him anywhere, but. He steps forward, closing the distance between them, until his fingers find Geralt’s, replacing them on the clasp of his cloak until he is undoing it himself, slipping the wet garment off the other man’s shoulders with the teasing brush of gentle fingers.]
no subject
Pushing open the door to the bedroom he has claimed for his own, John leads Geralt inside. True to the design of the place, there are others, if he were to have guests. They are the only two there today, however, and he is certainly not expecting anyone else.
The room itself is probably somewhat ornate by regular standards, but it’s homely for John. There is a large, comfortable bed (as promised), and a fire in the hearth which John magically has a new stock of wood for each day. He has not found a need for the missing staff so far at all in this place, in fact. A part of the magic of the Horizon, he supposes.
Ushering Geralt inside, he moves to shut the door behind them, turning toward the other man once that’s been done with a somewhat self-conscious smile.]
Courted. [He repeats.] I think I can manage that.
[Maybe not carrying him anywhere, but. He steps forward, closing the distance between them, until his fingers find Geralt’s, replacing them on the clasp of his cloak until he is undoing it himself, slipping the wet garment off the other man’s shoulders with the teasing brush of gentle fingers.]
I am glad you came. [he murmurs]