How long had it been, Simon wondered, since Frost had actually spent the night without Sparrow? There was one time, Simon recalled, back in the very beginning of this, only a few weeks after the Culling, perhaps only a few days after he'd met Sparrow himself, when Frost had let her spend the night in the second room of the suite with Nadia while Frost took Simon to his bed instead. And, he realized perhaps a bit begrudgingly, this entire relationship could be traced back to that night, couldn't it? That was the night Nadia had persuaded Sparrow to try masturbating, and that was the night Frost had first gotten it in his head that Sparrow would get off on the idea of the two of them together, and from there, it'd all been downhill. One threesome turned into another, which turned into a foursome, which turned into whatever the hell was happening now.
And try as he might to pretend otherwise, Simon knew exactly what this was. Frost was being an idiot, as usual, but this time, he was being downright reckless. Letting Sparrow alone with Seth Reinhold was the worst idea Simon had ever heard--the only thing he could imagine that could possibly be worse was the thought letting Octavian have her, and this was just barely a step above it. Seth Reinhold was dangerous, as likely to kill her as to fuck her, and Simon would do damn near anything if it meant persuading her to sever ties with him once and for all. Frost, being Frost, knew that damn well.
So here he was, glaring at the door to Frost's bedroom while he tried to persuade himself to knock on the door and make his presence known. Frost had already explained to him what was going on--to an extent, at least, and Simon had been able to infer from there. Sparrow was spending the night with her new boy toy in the spare room, taking for granted that she wasn't going to end up dead by morning, and Frost fully intended to use it as an opportunity to try to sway Simon into going along with his batshit crazy schemes.
For Frost, of course, this was a win/win situation. By letting Sparrow spend the night with her new lover--who, from all that Simon had heard, wanted nothing at all to do with Frost and violently refused to touch him--a refusal that was only tolerated because of Sparrow's interference, Simon knew--Frost would be winning Sparrow's favor, however slightly. Meanwhile, he'd have the chance to go to work on Simon, trying once again to present the idea of a more... permanent relationship as something that wasn't an utterly horrifying prospect. And even Simon could admit that he'd have a better shot at it than usual, though he certainly wasn't about to actually let Frost convince him of anything. Frost, Simon knew, was going to keep reminding him that Sparrow and Seth were next door, doing who the fuck wanted to know what to each other, and Frost was going to try to present this--the idea of replacing her romance with this latest, most insane victor with an ongoing polyamory between Frost, Sparrow, Nadia, and himself--as the best alternative. And while Simon certainly wasn't going to argue that it was certainly a better idea than letting Sparrow keep fucking Seth... he wasn't about to give up his own freedom, either.
And so, of course, Frost knew that even if he failed to convince Simon tonight, he would at least get a solid fuck out of it. Simon wondered if the same could be said for himself, or if that was to be his punishment for refusing. He wouldn't put it past Frost to leave him hanging.
With a sigh, he reached out and knocked on the door--and waited.
The door opened within a few seconds, and Simon was distinctly unimpressed to find Frost standing on the other side of it, dripping wet and wearing only a white towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He raised a brow as he walked past the other man into the room, trying to make sure his up-and-down glance was as judgmental as he could make it. "Did I catch you at a bad time or something?" he asked as he headed toward the bed. "Because if you're too busy, we can always call this off."
Frost just gave him a sly little smirk. "I was in the shower, Simon. Well, we were."
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timeasmymeasure
Look Who's On Top [1/?]
Date: 2016-02-04 12:36 pm (UTC)And try as he might to pretend otherwise, Simon knew exactly what this was. Frost was being an idiot, as usual, but this time, he was being downright reckless. Letting Sparrow alone with Seth Reinhold was the worst idea Simon had ever heard--the only thing he could imagine that could possibly be worse was the thought letting Octavian have her, and this was just barely a step above it. Seth Reinhold was dangerous, as likely to kill her as to fuck her, and Simon would do damn near anything if it meant persuading her to sever ties with him once and for all. Frost, being Frost, knew that damn well.
So here he was, glaring at the door to Frost's bedroom while he tried to persuade himself to knock on the door and make his presence known. Frost had already explained to him what was going on--to an extent, at least, and Simon had been able to infer from there. Sparrow was spending the night with her new boy toy in the spare room, taking for granted that she wasn't going to end up dead by morning, and Frost fully intended to use it as an opportunity to try to sway Simon into going along with his batshit crazy schemes.
For Frost, of course, this was a win/win situation. By letting Sparrow spend the night with her new lover--who, from all that Simon had heard, wanted nothing at all to do with Frost and violently refused to touch him--a refusal that was only tolerated because of Sparrow's interference, Simon knew--Frost would be winning Sparrow's favor, however slightly. Meanwhile, he'd have the chance to go to work on Simon, trying once again to present the idea of a more... permanent relationship as something that wasn't an utterly horrifying prospect. And even Simon could admit that he'd have a better shot at it than usual, though he certainly wasn't about to actually let Frost convince him of anything. Frost, Simon knew, was going to keep reminding him that Sparrow and Seth were next door, doing who the fuck wanted to know what to each other, and Frost was going to try to present this--the idea of replacing her romance with this latest, most insane victor with an ongoing polyamory between Frost, Sparrow, Nadia, and himself--as the best alternative. And while Simon certainly wasn't going to argue that it was certainly a better idea than letting Sparrow keep fucking Seth... he wasn't about to give up his own freedom, either.
And so, of course, Frost knew that even if he failed to convince Simon tonight, he would at least get a solid fuck out of it. Simon wondered if the same could be said for himself, or if that was to be his punishment for refusing. He wouldn't put it past Frost to leave him hanging.
With a sigh, he reached out and knocked on the door--and waited.
The door opened within a few seconds, and Simon was distinctly unimpressed to find Frost standing on the other side of it, dripping wet and wearing only a white towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He raised a brow as he walked past the other man into the room, trying to make sure his up-and-down glance was as judgmental as he could make it. "Did I catch you at a bad time or something?" he asked as he headed toward the bed. "Because if you're too busy, we can always call this off."
Frost just gave him a sly little smirk. "I was in the shower, Simon. Well, we were."