edle_gestalt | PRISMATICA: Inbox

I am sure that whatever it is you're composing in the next room is going to be beautiful and inspiring. Right now though...

[ He can't go over his writing horrible smut with a few bars here and there stopping and starting. It's been an hour, Austria come on. ]

I've been compiling a list of things in the meantime that could benefit us during Cordis. Would you like to see it?

[ prooooomising? ]

[sorry the Bösendorfer doesn't have headphones]

Send it while my train of thought is already lost.

[If he weren't interested at all, though, he would have left it on read.]

[ Well SooooRRRrrY maestro for interrupting those pretty fingers. Said hands are also a distraction to his writing but there are more pressing matters! He has a limited time to work with. ]

I just want to shop for a few nice things for us, and as we are more than taken care of financially I think a little splurge is in order.

[ That's a preface, sent nicely in its own little message bubble. Moments later, he unleashes the thunder. He can hear the quiet alert go off with every text. France is well-versed in making lists of such extravagant nature. Fussy, but thorough.

Several texts later, he caps his list with: ]

I'd be lying if I didn't want a gratuitous amount of pate. That was quite nice last time.

[ Yes, he just got a shopping list for actual groceries. Appetites come in more than simply sexual, unfortunately. He wants tarts, and chickens, and fish, and pates, and a little bit of junk just to satisfy his inner fat child. Also wine. That's just a standard though. ]

[every time that notif goes off he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand further on end.

France might hear Austria's hand flop -- or slam, who knows -- onto the desk, too.]

This couldn't wait? You couldn't write it down and give it to me later?

[he wasn't getting anywhere with the composing, it's okay. he's accepted it now.]

I'll get you pate.

Only not when all three moons are out. Not in front of me anyway. Unless it's pork liver.
No fowl.

For next Cordis proper, though, we can plan something. Fancy. We haven't been extravagant in a little while.

Duchess potatoes.

I'm adding lingonberry jam to the list.

[ The very audible slap makes the Frenchman scoff in the direction of the doorway. Why yes, they are keeping this to text for now, just out of principal. ]

The last time I did that it got mysteriously misplaced, as if you didn't want to splurge on some of the more exotic ingredients I wanted to try and use in our meal.

[ Ooh, the accusations! When in space... A long, lamenting sigh can be heard and then tap tap tap tap tap TAP TAP TAP omg France stop. ]

It's not like I am plucking you... oh fine. I can practically hear your bristling from in here.
In fact, I do hear you abusing that poor desk. Be gentle!

I haven't had those in so long. You're trying to fatten me up.

[ Lingonberry noted. He can figure out uses for it. Fancy baking ones. ]

I didn't. And now I do.

Treats are treats, France. If they become the norm they stop being treats.

Nor have I, but I am not trying to fatten you. You're the one insisting on pate.

If your feline tendencies feel so inclined towards organ meats, I could make you a beuschl.

[It's.... lung stew. Oh but it was trendy, the Elevated and Sophisticated Peasant Food of the late nineteenth century in Vienna... he knows how to dress it up nicely.]

You seem awfully concerned with the welfare of our desk, is it on your mind?

But I'm pretty!

[ That is his immediate retort, so kneejerk that it is sent in blatant protest to Austria insisting that treats could be overdone into normalcy.

Maybe he's #worthit and that should be his normal? Hmph. He's feeling particularly cheeky today. ]

You are the one that made the mistake of ordering pate for me on our date back in the first time I was here. I blame you for my affinity to it now.

[ See? But it's sweet because he's bringing up old dates. Right? Right? ]

Beuschl was not how I anticipated that sentence end, but I digress. Okay. I will be happy to let you prepare a meal.

Is it? It's a very nice table. I'd hate to see it get dinged up is all.

[ Mhmmm. ]

What does that have to do with anything?

[Ouch? I mean. He isn't disagreeing.]

Do I even want to know how you thought the sentence would end? You know I'm not the type to refer to myself as organ meat. [unless he's feeling particularly ignored, then it's chopped liver.] Beuschl. With lots and lots of dumplings.

Are you sure that's all? [he's not sure which one of their minds went south first...]

We're going to run out of room with a shopping list like this... which begs the question. Had you wanted to upgrade?

[ Does France ever really give him the opportunity to use such a term? Even when he's balancing out his relationships, he's usually pretty attentive. The blond doesn't even seem to react to the essential 'so what?', because he's uh.

Vibrating with excitement. His eyes might have skipped down and he needs to just reread the rest before he replies and puts his foot in his mouth. ]

Are you talking about upgrading the kitchen? How are we going to manage that one?

[ Yes. That's what he got out of that. That was the only IMPORTANT part of the conversation. Even thirst can be set aside. ]

I suppose indirectly. But I mean overall. Rather than an approximation of a suite. It's always been a bit awkward having to go into the hallway to fetch this or that from the other's place.

[it was an idle thought, and it's sinking in that it feels... kind of huge. but normal.]

It is difficult. I have been mostly fond of living in close proximity to others. That's the only thing I truly miss about the empire days, having so many people under one roof. Such a thing isn't possible at home unless it's the result of aggression from a boss. It is the only time I suppose I can have that sort of company without an ugly underbelly.

[there's a while before the next text.]

Making a home that's somewhat removed from it all is also something we aren't afforded at home. Not with another person, that is.

[He's sitting at the desk, still, but he's turned around and staring at the door.]

[ France's anticipatory fidgetting goes still when the first set of messages finally arrives. It took Austria a couple of moments so he'd been anticipating a long message. He hadn't anticipated that message. Again, he has to read it over to allow it to sink in. Is he blushing? His face certainly feels warm when he goes to rub at a cheek.

His fingers hover over the keyboard but he doesn't really know to frame it. What they have now is the closest thing he's had in a very long time to cohabitating with someone. Even then, it really was an approximation of a suite. They could retreat to their separate apartments if need be.

It had been a natural transition to default into extended sleepovers where they played house, but it was a completely different thing to intentionally find a place just for them because they wanted to live together.

The fidgeting resumes when he sees that Austria has started to type once more. This message is shorter but it automatically makes him smile, all thoughts of his shopping list and writing falling to the back burner in favor of standing and making his way into the room Austria had settled in. France doesn't look all that composed walking in and when it's obvious that the man had been staring at the door, waiting, he has to bite his cheek to keep from smiling wider.

Really, he has no choice but to deposit himself in Austria's lap. The kiss is fairly aggressive but he's processing a lot. Sorry to knock the poor man's glasses askew but things had to be done. He pulls away with a shaky laugh, fixing the frames back in place. ]

I am overemotional at the prospect of a larger kitchen. That is all this is.

[ It's obvious that isn't the case. Clearing his throat, he sits up a little straighter, hands settling on the chair back. ]

Do you really want to? Make a home, that is... [ CUE THE SICK JAN COUGH--I'm sorry please ignore this. ] That is, together. [ Just saying it makes his chest ache, and it's confusing that he should get so nervous and excited to do what they've essentially been test-driving for several months now. ] Are you sure that you want to share a closet with me? I've heard the tuts when you are trying to find things... [ This is a man trying not to cry like a little bitch. Excuse him. ]

[His body language is welcoming when France approaches him but even then, he isn't prepared for the attack that ensues.] I-- ow. Jesus. [It's muffled against that kiss and he pulls him in nonetheless. With a whimper.] I... I thought you might be... [It may be obvious that it isn't the case, but it's a deflection Austria is willing to latch onto.]

Make a hom-- God that is what I wrote isn't it. [His hands are on his own cheeks. It sounds so much more intimidating out loud.] I mean... yes? It just seems the natural course of action... N-not to be crass but I suspect we've got enough for a house. [His face is beet red by the time he says that, there are so many implications in it.] I was thinking someplace in Level One...

Th...the simplest solution would be if I simply did not permit you to wear clothes. [There's a pointed glare; he's obviously kidding, but that glare is still a little glassy, and his nose still twitches in a sniffle.] But I do know you; we could always find more than one closet. [He swallows.] A-and perhaps a cellar.

[ Austria's face really turn such a satisfying shade of red, even if at the present moment a good portion of his face is being covered while he comes to terms with what he'd propositioned. It is intimidating. The good thing is that France doesn't take him reeling at the implications to heart because it's a shared panic.

A good panic, but still a mild crisis. It shouldn't be. They were at a stage in their relationship where they took turns living in one another's apartments, so why not make it easy on themselves and get rid of that barrier in their living arrangement?

There wasn't the gray area of how they felt toward one another and hadn't been since that first night when he'd arrived back, and maybe that's why it feels so much harder to do casually. ]

Oh, Level One... that's such a lovely area.

[ Expensive. He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the idea that they could very well front the bill. He fails to hold in the chuckle at Austria's solution, but the way he's being looked at makes him twist a bit to hide his face. He's elated but the sniffle had caught him off guard.

He is fast to wipe away at his face and take a deep breath to calm himself. ]

A nice closet with a lot of storage? [ Oh, he's looking at him sideways. He will be back to his normal bravado when they're done here but uh... give him a few. ] Maybe a spare room we could use for your music. That's only fair if you're thinking of a cellar.

[ Even if the wine isn't the same. God his heart is hammering uncomfortably fast. He could get up but he feels frozen in place. France draws nonsense into the smooth gloss of the desk he'd been so quick to defend with the pad of his fingers, hiding the hopeful smile. This is not a honeymoon, damn it. ]

It would be nice to have more outdoor space than a balcony. I'd like to grow things...

[ Gag him. Please. ]

[Tsk. Austria makes the sound idly, it has an air of why are you weeping about it but it's more affectionate than anything else, coming with a brush from his fingers to get France's hair out of his eyes.]

Plenty of storage, yes. And... I'd love a music room, certainly. I'd hope to find reputable piano movers here... my god having a garden with you. I'm better with flowers than I am with food, but just thinking of you being able to work with the freshest things... [He leans his head forward to touch their foreheads to each other. With the decrease in eye contact due to the positioning, it's easier to get the following out.]

It's also... oh this feels very superficial. Given the fantasies we dabble in, it's just... trickier to fully immerse oneself in the grandiosity of such a status difference when in a building like this. It isn't just me wanting to feel more regal or feel more tended to -- I mean partly -- but I haven't felt like I could give you enough of what's in my own mind during all this. We settled into this because of what we crave, and... well you like being kept, do you not? I want to do exactly that, keep you, not... I don't know what I'm saying. An extra room designed specifically for keeping would be better than making do with the slight differences in... in thin-walled living rooms. Stairs. Stairs, don't you think they would feel more immersive even from the simple act of descending to meet you?

[A small hum, shaking his head a little bit, as much as the forehead touch would allow. Just a little rocking.

I could never prioritize such a thing if I had more pertinent expenses. But... [His voice lowers and becomes warmer, and his hand moves to rest on France's thigh, moving down it ever so slowly to pet. And the eye contact is back.] I don't.

Perhaps it's materialistic to want to devote so much of the home to outlandish fantasy. But I'm not much of a traveler.

[ He takes a shaky breath and leans in closer when their foreheads touch, letting his eyes shut. The simple act calms some of his nerves and he lets his hands slip to wind around the man once more. France had come to appreciate how simple gestures were enough from this man to put him at ease. It's not completely successful in this case, but it is better.

By the time Austria mentions how France likes to be kept a smile has appeared. It all sounds so good, having a space that fit their actual tastes. Privacy to act however they wanted. Fear of being heard had never kept him from responding genuinely to whatever scene the brunet would set up. His approval is clear though. ]

I do love how elegant you look on a staircase. We would have the room we've been missing in this small apartment. Not that I am not grateful that we've been given a place to stay, but it isn't going to reflect our shared tastes. How long has it been living in the same place? It's time to seek out something you'd want. [ And because it's on his mind, obviously, he adds: ] What we want, hm?

[ His forehead creases lightly when he peers at Austria, who has finally returned to paying him a little eye contact. The palm stroking his leg is just as warm and inviting as the man's words. He's weak to it of course, and the coil of excitement surprises him. Later. ]

What's the use of having money if you do not use it occasionally to give you experiences you'll enjoy? We've been saving without even knowing it.

[ Correction: Austria has. France doe eyes much too much with his whole trophy husband habits. ]

PRISMATICA: Inbox

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that icon jesus

i haven't used it in ages omg

you're welcome then

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