( A quiet sound leaves Dimitri as he twists on the thin cushion he's laid out on, and the first thing he registers as consciousness starts to reach him is that his head hurts. A slow, steady ache that is just persistent enough to be annoying. It's that hint of pain that brings him to fully, blue eyes fluttering as he stares up and into the bright light of the room.
His thoughts are sluggish to catch up to him, and it takes a long moment for him to realize that this place is unfamiliar. That he doesn't recognize the grey colors of the walls or the strange and obscene posters that cover the walls in neat rows. It's the sight of one poster - a pair of men in a intimate position - that makes his cheeks flush darkly, and he rolls slowly onto his side and moves to bring one arm over his face and eyes as if that would be enough to drown out the image.
Only, when he rolls, he realizes whatever he's laying on happens to be a bed, and he isn't alone. Surprise lights his expression, takes away that shameful surprise of the posters and instead replaces it with concern. A part of him expects he will hear voices around him, his loved ones past to mock him or chide him over this situation. Only there's just a strange silence filled by the soft breathing of the person beside him.
Slowly, carefully, he sits up, body tense and unsure. The feeling of eyes on him is maddening, and Dimitri looks around slowly, taking in the space further. It seems to be a room of some sort, minimal decorations, and... this person.
The way he reaches out towards the other is slow and careful as if the other might wake and lash out, and after a few long seconds, his hand settles as a warm weight against the other's shoulder. It's only as he reaches out that he seems to realize another thought - different clothing. A t-shirt and pants that are painfully bland in color, scratchy against his skin. Scars across his arms on display. It's an observation that only adds to the growing confusion and frustration. )
Are you awake? ( He prompts softly, and there's the smallest shake of the arm under his hand. )
fuck or die with optional abo + breeding???
His thoughts are sluggish to catch up to him, and it takes a long moment for him to realize that this place is unfamiliar. That he doesn't recognize the grey colors of the walls or the strange and obscene posters that cover the walls in neat rows. It's the sight of one poster - a pair of men in a intimate position - that makes his cheeks flush darkly, and he rolls slowly onto his side and moves to bring one arm over his face and eyes as if that would be enough to drown out the image.
Only, when he rolls, he realizes whatever he's laying on happens to be a bed, and he isn't alone. Surprise lights his expression, takes away that shameful surprise of the posters and instead replaces it with concern. A part of him expects he will hear voices around him, his loved ones past to mock him or chide him over this situation. Only there's just a strange silence filled by the soft breathing of the person beside him.
Slowly, carefully, he sits up, body tense and unsure. The feeling of eyes on him is maddening, and Dimitri looks around slowly, taking in the space further. It seems to be a room of some sort, minimal decorations, and... this person.
The way he reaches out towards the other is slow and careful as if the other might wake and lash out, and after a few long seconds, his hand settles as a warm weight against the other's shoulder. It's only as he reaches out that he seems to realize another thought - different clothing. A t-shirt and pants that are painfully bland in color, scratchy against his skin. Scars across his arms on display. It's an observation that only adds to the growing confusion and frustration. )
Are you awake? ( He prompts softly, and there's the smallest shake of the arm under his hand. )