Kersen

[real_gun_hand]

Hotch had been trying to get out. He'd never been the sort to just go out for the sake of going out, but in London he knew so few people and the town itself was a mystery. He'd taken it to heart that he should find at least one new place every week and this week he'd found a lovely restaurant that served Asian food. Of course he had had Chinese in mind when he heard 'Asian' and was surprise dwhen he arrived that it was Indian cuisine. He'd enjoyed a delicious meal and then had started off to the tube when he spotted a bar. He could have one drink, he thought, and had made his way inside.

A piano bar, neatly appointed and apparently popular. Hotch took a seat at the bar and ordered a scotch, then turned to watch the pianist. He didn't recognize the song, but that was no shock. It sounded jazzy and that really wasn't his specialty.

Comments

[kersen]

Kersen smiled at him again, at that. "You like? Satin and lace is a real bitch to sew." He held out a hand so that Aaron could more closely inspect the sleeve.

[real_gun_hand]

"You do your own sewing?" he asked, clearly surprised by that revelation.

[kersen]

Kersen chuckled. "You think department stores carry dresses made to fit me?"

[real_gun_hand]

Hotch gave him a critical looking over, then shrugged.

"Women's clothes are a mystery to me," he admitted.

[kersen]

"Well, to be fair, I suppose being six feet tall and flat chested I am rather like the fashion industry's idea of a woman, judging from runway models. Which is rather bollocks, really." Another sip of the wine, and Kersen found that he was hungry. "But I like sewing. This, all of it, it's my art."

[real_gun_hand]

"I never thought of anything like this like art, but I imagine it is, isn't it? You're clearly talented," he replied.

[kersen]

"And you are very nice to say so," Kersen said pleasantly. "I recommend not asking about any of the details lest you spoil the mystique."

[real_gun_hand]

"Is that what it is? Mystique?" he asked. "All right, then. I won't ask."

[kersen]

Kersen smiled, and then winked at him.

Most people would be polite enough not to ask something like 'so where's your dick?' anyway, though there was more to the mystique than that: how did his face look softer with makeup, and how did he have a waist?

[real_gun_hand]

"Do you do anything other than run the bar and perform?" he asked.

[kersen]

... police the vampire population in Soho, apparently.

"There are only so many hours in the day, honey," Kersen said instead, smiling at him. "What do you do when you're not working?"

[real_gun_hand]

"I like to run," he said. "I Virginia I ran 5K's and I was considering doing an Ironman. Here...I just jog."

[kersen]

Kersen allowed himself a brief mental image of the man in running shorts. Possibly sweaty.

"I hear Hyde Park is a nice place to run," he said. "Not my thing, I'm afraid."

[real_gun_hand]

"I've been sticking to the streets around my apartment and the embassy. There's a small park there so I run its perimeter on my circuit," he replied, oblivious to Kersen's musings.

[kersen]

"What do you like about running?" Kersen asked. "How does it make you feel?"

[real_gun_hand]

"I try to run long enough to get the high, but even when I don't I enjoy the way it makes my muscles hot and my lungs burn. It makes me feel alive," he said fondly.

[kersen]

Considering that Kersen was in some ways dead, he certainly understood the desire to feel alive.

He smiled. "I'm going to be a lady and not make any comments about hot muscles."

[real_gun_hand]

Hotch was not given to embarrassment and even when he did feel it he didn't let it show. So his gaze didn't waver, he didn't even blink.

"All right," he said simply, though inside he was turning over and over if it was an innocent comment- just the way Kersen talked- or if he was being flirted with. He didn't think that was possible.

[kersen]

And Kersen meanwhile interpreted that carefully neutral reaction as clear disinterest. Well, he'd had no reason to think the man was anything but straight. He dialed it back.

"Can I get you another drink?" he asked.

[real_gun_hand]

"I think another does sound good, but just one measure. I need to be able to find my way home without stumbling," he replied, and it was difficult to tell if he was joking his tone was so dry.