loveschildren | (no subject)

[....fuck, he was caught going easy on him.]

You sure you wanted to mention that? Well, it's too late now...

[shifts so he's pinning Felid with one hand, the other going to his hair ribbon.]

[Is he sure he wants to make sure Crowley plays with his hair before he's dragged off to prison or whatever/ Is the pope catholic? He hardly keeps his only means of escape in his hair, anyway, and he tilts his head obligingly to give Crowley access, obviously very pleased.]

Were you hoping to give me an out?

[starts to card his fingers methodically through Felid's hair.]

I was just leaving the patdown to my colleagues.

I wouldn't want anyone vulgar messing with my hair.

Really? You're concerned about vulgar people?

I seem to have given you somewhat of a false impression of myself. I'm a very picky person, Crowley.

[He's absolutely leaning into the fingers through his hair.]

I go after and want only the most rare and interesting luxuries and arts.

Well, I mean, you also started making sex jokes about us really fast.

Well~ I also know what I want and I don't hesitate to go for it.

That doesn't mean I'd be pleased with just anyone pinning me to the floor putting me in handcuffs.

I just met you, Felid. Your standards must be very strange, if I already fit into them.

You don't have to know its history to recognize a piece of fine art.

Hey, I'll get embarrassed if you keep that up.

[still running fingers carefully through his hair, as voices get closer.]

[There's a few bobby pins stuck in his hair, hidden in all that mass. Mostly it's just very silky and long.]

I wonder if you do get embarrassed. It'll be fun to learn about you.

Is it time to hand me over?

[He snags those bobby pins, careful and thorough.]

Mmhm. This is goodbye, for now.

[And then his demeanor becomes entirely professional as his colleagues come bursting in the door.]

[Felid just lays on the floor, sprawled and watching Crowley until he's handed over, dragged up and hustled out of sight. He doesn't fight at all, after he's slight and what could he possibly do? Crowley probably knows that's deceptive.]

[Crowley knows way better, but he's also busy returning the knife and doing paperwork. He doesn't care what happens with Felid, once it's officially out of his hands. And very soon it is.]

[They never even get Felid to the any authority for booking, he escapes in transit despite the high security that took him from Crowley.]

[It's a month before he can contact Crowley though, which just annoys him. But he has to shake the feds and the police, send them on another trail than track Crowley's routine and make sure he won't be rudely interrupted when he does surprise Crowley on his way back from work, just sitting in his car in a nice black coat and outfit, gloves on, flipping through an art magazine.]

[Crowley doesn't betray anything with his body language, getting into his car at the end of his shift and leaving the same way he always does without a word.

They pull into a little parking lot for a mom and pop cafe in town before he finally turns to look at Felid.]

You totally stalked me.

I didn't show up at your home or send any threatening emails or creepy facebook messages. At worst I'd say I paid unusual scrutiny to your routine in a perhaps unnerving manner. But I assure you my intentions are pure. You did promise coffee.

[He closes his magazine and smiles. He totally stalked him.]

Your intentions are anything but pure. Stalker.

I did promise coffee, though, which is why we're here.

I was as professional as any planned heist I assure you. Nothing so base as casual stalking.

[He tucks the magazine into the glove compartment.]

Shall we?

Methodical stalking is still stalking.

[sighs and opens his car door.]

Lets.

[He waits for Crowley to get out first before exiting himself.]

Should I have sent an invitation instead?

I would have taken it.

[he shrugs, leading Felid into the cafe.]

But I missed your face.

[He's shameless, following Crowley closely, perfectly happy to stand near him.]

Usually people resolve that by meeting up in normal ways, not showing up in a guy's car.

[The elderly woman behind the counter double takes at Crowley, then breaks out into a smile.]

"Eusford! You're back!"