Ryslig inbox

[6am]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, PHIL CONNORS. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 020.22.473.65 *** goodweather has joined 020.22.473.65 <goodweather> You have reached the chatroom of Ryslig's favorite weatherman, Phil Connors <goodweather> If you're contacting me for business deals offer me a price first <goodweather> But if you're looking for a more "fun" time, I'm all ears. ;)

Comments

[wheresmyjuul]

As if you've ever known me to complain.

[He does. Loudly. Mostly about neatness on the part of Ash in common areas and clients who don't understand that Rev's staff are not there to be submissive to anyone. But he shifts closer to Phil, wanting the warmth that leaches off him as they unwrap things. His gifts are much better wrapped, but in Rev's defence, tape had not been exactly... Familiar.]

And as if everyone living in this apartment is not intimately familiar with my dick. [Completely nonchalant.] But I suppose not splattering myself with hot water while poaching is beneficial.

[The box Phil unwraps is an extremely good quality coffee machine. It's small enough to be easily installed in his office at the radio station, should he decide it's taking up residence there, but good enough for at home. Also included is a bag of the premium coffee beans from the best coffee house on the mile, and a grinder for them.

Reverie does as he's told and starts carefully pulling apart the paper on the soft thing.]

Wanted to make sure you had easy access to your vices. I'm a terrible enabler.

[6am]

Aww, don't tell me you're making me eggs benedict for breakfast. If I didn't know any better I would say you're trying to spoil me.

[He looks at the present and his expression immediately softens. His obsession with coffee wasn't exactly a secret, especially ever since his goblin instincts kicked in, but knowing Rev thought about him like this hit him harder than he expected.

After a moment of staring, he clears his throat.]

Well you know that this is far from my worst vice, but I'm not one to complain about you making me indulge in all of them.

[Inside Rev's first gift is a silk robe. It's long and flowy, with "Reverie" embroidered on the breast pocket in gold thread. It looks like it costs a pretty penny.
Phil doesn't say anything; like he's gauging Rev's reaction before he responds.]

[wheresmyjuul]

Sweetheart, I'll make you anything you want. [Although.] Within reason. Not like I can nip out and get anything extra with the sun coming up.

[The robe's beautiful. Soft. Smooth when he runs it through his fingers. He slips out of the bed so he can put it on, running palms over the smooth planes of it where it sits flat at his hips.]

It's beautiful, Phil. Thank you.

[He slips back to the bed, gently sliding a hand under Phil's chin and pressing a kiss to his cheek. The slow, rumbling involuntary purr has resumed.]