goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

He goes from leaning against her to leaning against D- draped over him like a cat and nuzzling his hair and mumbling about how he's sorry that he makes life hard, that he'll do better, that he fucking loves him, man, and D just- humoring him. Like he always does. He goes back to leaning on her as soon as the bus is cleared.

"You. You are the best bodyguard ever. Of All time."

"You, get a shower, get changed for rest. We'll get moving shortly." She'll let the praise roll off her back, doesn't take it THAT seriously. She saved his life, sure, but no doubt he's said that to all his bodyguards in the past.

She's just doing her job. ~~(As opposed to doing her job, heh heh heh, ahem.)~~ Delta's reserved manner in dealing with York is amusing in its own right, and he follows on her heels as she ushers the tired pop star into his trailer proper.

"Oh, god yeah, post show funk. Ew. Sorry for getting it all over y'all." SHower, shower, shower, shower. He sluggishly works his way to the back of the room, stripping off his shirt as he goes and tossing it into the hamper. D's trained him well.

That gets a snort, but she watches him go, turning as he sheds the shirt to face Delta instead. He keeps his gaze on York, even as she reaches over to take his arm, carefully leading him to sit on the couch. So long as York doesn't go parading through in his birthday suit, she can at least take her eyes off him legitimately for a little while.

It's been a long, long day for everyone. And a little reassurance goes a long way. So she's surprised, and touched, when Delta returns that show of concern. It isn't often others ask if she is all right. This is, after all, her job. She's the one who's eligible to be hurt here. Her reply is lost at first when the bus starts up, and there's a honk of warning - they're about to move! Brace yourself, York!

Safe in the shower, scrubbing down he probably should be, well, done singing- but he's still feeling the pulse in his veins so, hope everyone in the cabin likes Katy Perry. Cuz he's belt'n. Up till they move.

"cuz BABY YOU'RE A FIIIIIIIIIIIRE WOO- ohfuckshitcockandBALLS!" There's a thud, another low stream of swearing, and then helpless laughter. It's fine, it's good, it's fine.

"..."

"..."

There might be some quiet snickering that follows the swearing and the laughter, even as Delta rises to his feet to get the first aid kit and Carolina breaks out her phone. It's time to make some calls regarding their mysterious intruder. The details will be passed on to Delta and the record company proper, but this is something she wants to handle for herself while time allows.

That, and its a long enough drive that she looks over at Delta with a furrowed brow, confusion clearing only when he quietly confirmed changing hotel bookings while the stage was being set up. Just in case.

He's back to singing and humming under his breath as soon as he rights himself, stepping out pink and scrubbed clean and in drawstring slacks and a Henley- the van gets cold sometimes man. He flops over on the nearest sofa, still buzzing with post show glee, checking in that D's alright. Anyone that knows him knows D's his right hand man, and once he's sure Delta's okay? He turns his eyes on Carolina.

"You alright? I mean- you kicked his ass hard but= you okay?"

"He didn't land anything worth mentioning. If he'd connected with the taser, we might have something to talk about." She doesn't sound concerned, keeps it from her voice, but her expression softens a little to know that he is asking - even if she is hired help. There's a fondness to Delta's occasional exasperation with this man, and she's beginning to see why. D wouldn't stick around with anyone who wasn't an honest soul.

"We should be at the Plaza in about 15 minutes, How're you feeling?"

"See tazers? I've heard of pop stars getting bum rushed with those. But that gas- that's..." He shakes his head. He'll worry later. Right now D's going over logistics and Carolina is fine. That's all he needs. Everyone to be fine. "I'm glad you're okay."

A beat.

"Little dizzy and anxious but that's normal. Just gotta get some food in me and a bottle of water before I pass out for the night."

"There's a private doctor's visit arranged for tomorrow. For both of you," Delta adds, giving Carolina a Look, which she returns with narrowed eyes. If York had doubted the matching green shade for even a moment, this would surely dispel it.

"once we're settled in at the hotel, we'll organise food," she tells York, as though she hadn't heard Delta try to manage her. It's not often other people say that they're glad she's okay...She's not sure how to feel about that. So for now, she sets that comment aside.

"The usual or someone new?" The usual would be better than not but they aren't exactly in town. The look, though is- well it's kind of adorable. It's WEIRD seeing that look on someone that's not him.

Ha.

"Room service or online delivery? Don't think we're going somewhere with a kitchen." Delta turns the Look back on him. "...not that I ever intend to cook ever after the last time."

"The usual. You listen to her." Probably because Dr Emily Grey is rather terrifying in her friendliness. But she knows what she's doing, usually. "Room service works. I'm assuming a business suite?" It's a good assumption, and she doesn't think to query it. Otherwise she might have objected before they got there. Because they're all sold out of everything, except..

Well, the *bridal* suite is certainly huge. But the mirrors everywhere and glass doors between certain rooms weren't entirely appropriate. Right? Right..

"Oh good. I like her." She is creepy in a stepford smiley kind of way, but she explains everything. Even if he doesn't UNDERSTAND the words she's using, she explains and he appreciates that. Doesn't say a damn thing about how his eye doesn't focus properly either, so that's good.

He has to get dressed to head upstairs and Delta sends his bag up to

to.

"...holyshit is this a bad sitcom or what." At least the bed isn't shaped like a heart- but there IS a champagne bottle- or a basket of them. And condoms. And packets of lube that probably comes with the room. "...if there's chocolate somewhere I'm eating it and I don't even care."

Somehow, what should be a ringing endorsement isn't. But that will be something to worry about in the morning.

Tonight, there is this ridiculous room with its giant water bed, far too large windows overlooking the city, a bath tub very clearly made fir two, and several nooks and crannies and hook points that don't necessarily scream honeymoon to Carolina. Or perhaps her idea of first married night affairs is too vanilla? Either way, "Don't touch anything," she orders, before she begins her sweep of each room. She doesn't want to risk /anything/ by not being thorough at her job.

"...but who would poison chocolate?" It is now a concern he didn't know he needed to have until now- and as much fun as the bed looks he hovers by the door, waiting patiently for Carolina to do her job. The hooks look kind of fun. He might monkey around on them later- he didn't have his doorframe bar for pullups in this tour van.

The glass door between the bedroom and the bathroom though- good thing he showered on the bus.

Soon as the all clear is given he looks and does, in fact, find chocolates.

Shaped like genitals.

"Oh christ what the fuck."

"It's not the chocolate I'm worried about."

Her voice carries clearly enough, meaning any intruder would be easily detected - they wouldn't be able to stage a kidnapping without someone hearing something either way. It doesn't take her long to finish checking that things are in fact exactly as they seem, and it's an arched brow at York when she hears his exclamation.

Then looks down at the offerings, carefully arranged on black paper. Then back up at York.

"I thought you didn't care?" Then, an idea occurs to her. ..she shouldn't, not when he's technically her client, but he could use a distraction from the worst of the day's events now the high is wearing off. She shrugs at him, seemingly unconcerned, And, as if to underscore such an attitude, she picks up one piece from the selection - a rather upstanding example of erectness - and, far too casually, places its length in her mouth, lightly closing her lips around it.

"I don't care, I just don't know which one to start wi-" He doesn't cut himself off so much as snap his mouth shut, watching her enjoy one of the chocolates. They aren't quite life sized, thank god, but it's enough of a visual to make him go red and his mouth to dry out and-

Delta will kill him. Delta will murder him and no one will ever find the body. Delta will GLEEFULLY peel the skin from his bones.

Nope that reminder doesn't do anything as a low, inarticulate noise that might be a whimper spills past his lips. Right. Turnabout, fair play? Yes. Yes good. He plucks up a flat, feminine form and runs his tongue over the surface, playing a little with the molded folds. Because he's that kind of an ass.

His whimper earns the faintest hint of a smirk, only visible in the way her eyes crinkle slightly, before she watches him pick out his own piece to, err, play with. He's definitely an ass, but one who knows what he's doing with his tongue - but he's not the only one. She draws the chocolate out slowly, the balls balanced between index finger and thumb, before she sucks it back in again. It's good chocolate, her mind mentally notes.

Then there's a knock on the door. Delta.

She pops cock and balls into her mouth fully, smiles at York, then turns away with a slight sashay of her hips to go let his manager in.

Mm mm, salted caramel. Her favourite.

Edited (Typo) 2015-08-21 04:02 (UTC)

You win this time, Carolina. He's so busy watching he can't quite focus on fluttering his tongue like he meant to, instead just. Staring. It's not fair. Delta will MURDER him and-

...it might be worth it wait what NO brain bad brain LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKES BRAIN. York pops his into his mouth as he watches her walk to the door and- damn those legs. Damn those hips. Stupid martial artists and their awesome bodies. He's fucked, just. Not how he wants to be. He manages to at least compose himself by the time D walks in and slap on an innocent smile. "Hey buddy!"

'Hey buddy!' earns an arched eyebrow, and a sidelong glance to Carolina when she strides back the way she came, heading into the lounge area to let the boys discuss business. It's an almost amused, if resigned look that follows when he turns back to York. He knows your type, and also knows how much trouble attempting to chase that tail isn't going to work.

Sitting herself down onto the couch with a sigh, Carolina ignores the conversation that will no doubt start soon - it's not going to be her business anymore, come morning - and instead checks on any updates on her phone. There's a security guard outside and one in the foyer; she'll at least be able to get a nap in.

It's just the usual. The take, how he performed, what they're gonna do next. A lot of planning and a lot of- well. Discussion on why the FUCK hadn't he been informed? D knows about his blood pressure this extra stress couldn't have been good for him and yes that is the only reason he's pissed. It calms down after, and they hug it out. Well. York hugs, Delta endures.

Soon he sends him to his own room and he settles back in the sitting area. "You gonna camp out on the sofa for tonight?"

"Yeah. Makes sense. I don't think we will be receiving any unexpected visitors but better safe than sorry."

"Sounds fair." A beat. "Any opinions on dinner? We're gonna order in."

"If it's spicy, I'll probably eat it. Nothing too heavy beer-wise, though." Because she sincerely doubts anyone will be having a soda. Even Delta will likely indulge.

"THai or Korean BBQ- also you want a nice IPA or Wheat beer?" Yes, he is this detailed, yes he wants his people to eat well and be happy.

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