Logic told him going out and partying with Taliesin, Matt, and Marisha was one of the dumbest moves he could make if he intended to get up on time and pack for the trip – even if it was just for one weekend. Logic also told him that handing out candy to grown teenagers for the rest of the night after the long ride home would make him miserable. Nothing against kids dressing up, because, hell, the costumes at this table alone. More the fact that he would wish he was half as adventurous as his characters ever were. Responsibilities be damned and what not.
“Well, I suppose you could always return to our chambers for the evening, darling.” Laura drawled in what she settled on as Lady Briarwood's voice. Something between Vex and something more sultry, mysterious.
Travis raised an eyebrow behind his glasses, “A guest, my dear? This evening?” A hint of posh English and a lot of masculinity, low, unaffected. Liam loved his friends and their commitment to this silly game, but he knew Travis well enough to know that the face behind the dark lenses was hinting towards something more along the lines of 'I thought we had plans?'
He didn't blame him.
Liam rose up from the table and finally let his other arm free from the confines of the back of his shirt. Paying little mind to the whispers of his friends beside him as he exited the set to put his dice box in the cabinet. He closed the door and fumbled with his pockets, searching for his phone and the quickest Uber home. The screen seemed obnoxiously bright in the dim hall.
Lost in his own train of thought, he barely noticed the shuffling around him. Jumping when a body came into the very, very close vicinity. His eyes traveled up the laced, split bodice and – 'god, Liam, don't look at her breasts, she's practically...'. She giggled, and the moment passed. Well aware of what she had on and the position she'd put herself in, intentional or otherwise.
“Hey, look,” Travis called from behind, already having shed his sash, coat, and various accessories that had been weighing him down all night, “Sorry about that before. We talked about it, you should really come stay the night with us. It's closer to the airport and we can just swing by your place tomorrow help you grab your shit. Then you don't have to deal with cabs in the morning traffic. Deal?”
“Guys, I appreciate it, really, but I don't wanna intrude on your night. It's not a big-”
Laura stepped forward, placing a hand to his chest to stop his exaggerated motions. He got the feeling he was being told to shut up. Moreso, he got the feeling....
...Why was she pulling her hand back to play with her broach? 'Don't look at her breasts, don't look at her breasts, fuck. You idiot. Don't...'
She smiled, coyly, even for her and took another step forward, “My love?”
“Please,” Travis clasped a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped, “I insist. Besides...” he squeezed down, just enough, voice returning to it's former accent. Liam winced slightly, confused, and all too familiar with how this scenario played out before as he felt the hot breath against his ear. “You look delicious.”
He managed to turn around and see his friend face to face. To say Willingham had a physical presence about him on a normal day would be an understatement all it's own. But tonight was different. On set his makeup had looked cheap and stagey. Under the dark contrast of the hall on the other hand it looked... almost too convincing. The slightly hallowed cheeks and pale skin. His eyes unblinking, glinting just right under the unnatural glow of the bulb above them. He didn't let go of his shoulder, just shifted his grasp, moving his other hand to softly stroke his cheek.
This was the part where he'd crack a grin and a bad joke, but he found a lump in his throat in it's place.
So he nodded.
“I do believe we'll take that as a “yes”, then?” Laura took his hand in her own and tossed Travis the keys, leading him to follow the bigger man out of the studio.
He didn't protest. He didn't say anything at all.
He stared out the window on the ride back to their place. Back seat, with Laura still clutching his hand, rubbing a lazy finger over his thigh. His thoughts raced a mile per minute as he tried to focus on the passing streetlights and cars as they drove by.
Sometimes he forgot his friends were actors. Which was absurd, given how often he's been their director. Yelling at these two to try it another way, give it one more try, a little higher pitched, a little more serious. Having to be that asshole who reminds them time is money and they're wasting time goofing off in the sound booth. Tonight they certainly had him convinced.
… And he was going home with them.
… And he was pretty sure it wasn't to play more D&D.
It was crazy but his mind wandered to ridiculous ideas. What if it was all real? All the magic in the world. Would it make it any less weird if this somehow wasn't actually his friends? The Briarwoods, surely, had passed through some sort of rift in their plane. Their essence possessing his friends. Or maybe they were re-incarnated lovers from a past life when dragons did roam. It couldn't just be that he had tricked himself into thinking he couldn't move a muscle because she was beside him and had no intention of releasing her hold.
Getting to their house was a blur. Being led to the door. Wanting to say this was silly and he shouldn't let them go through with whatever it was meant to be until those eyes pierced his thoughts and he was reminded, without doubt, that these were his friends that he loved and they only wanted the best for him. He trusted them. Completely.
So he found himself there, standing in front of their bed.
Just as Matt had described so long ago. A lavish purple canopy on four posts. Two wine glasses on a bed post being filled with the most crimson red they could probably find at the local liquor store. He watched briefly as Laura left to fetch a third glass, barely noticing Travis bringing a chair in from the guest room and setting it beside the bed. The clink of the third glass hitting the top of the dresser. The sound of the back zipper of her dress.
“Second thoughts?” The lace was sliding off her shoulders, exposing even more of her chest and leaving the choker firmly around her neck. “It would be so rude of you to leave now... The night is only getting started.”
He looked at Travis assisting her, brushing against her flesh. Not shaking that this seemed like such a private moment. They were married for god's sake, he shouldn't be here taking up space. He shouldn't be seeing this. Shouldn't be a part of this. Shouldn't feel the heat in his skin. He shouldn't *be here*.
“He's nervous, my dear. He'll come around soon enough.”
“Trav-” He got distracted, trailing off in the middle of his name as Laura slinked her way back to the bed, flushing as he tried not to follow every movement of her hips under the loose fabric. “... I should leave you alone.”
“We are alone. The three of us.” Laura chimed, removing her earrings.
“That's not... that's not when I meant.”
Travis sighed faintly behind him, “Remove this,” he tugged on Liam's shirt, “I'd hate for you to be uncomfortable, and it's so warm in here, don't you agree?” It *was* hot in the room. Whether it be the California air or the sight of the half naked woman in front of him or the mere suggestion raising hairs on his skin, he wasn't sure. “Come now, don't be so afraid. We'll make you nice and comfortable.”
He forced him to look at him again, well aware by now of the effect it was having.
“Travis...”
“You know that's not my name,” his tone was stern, warning.
Liam stepped back, hitting his calf on the mattress and falling to a sit on it.
“..S...Silas.”
Travis hummed, pleased, and barely not breaking his character as his friend stuttered, “Hmm?”
Fill: Through Crimson Colored Goggles (Liam/Laura/Travis - Briarwood Roleplay) 1/2
He had a 6AM flight out of LAX.
Logic told him going out and partying with Taliesin, Matt, and Marisha was one of the dumbest moves he could make if he intended to get up on time and pack for the trip – even if it was just for one weekend. Logic also told him that handing out candy to grown teenagers for the rest of the night after the long ride home would make him miserable. Nothing against kids dressing up, because, hell, the costumes at this table alone. More the fact that he would wish he was half as adventurous as his characters ever were. Responsibilities be damned and what not.
“Well, I suppose you could always return to our chambers for the evening, darling.” Laura drawled in what she settled on as Lady Briarwood's voice. Something between Vex and something more sultry, mysterious.
Travis raised an eyebrow behind his glasses, “A guest, my dear? This evening?” A hint of posh English and a lot of masculinity, low, unaffected. Liam loved his friends and their commitment to this silly game, but he knew Travis well enough to know that the face behind the dark lenses was hinting towards something more along the lines of 'I thought we had plans?'
He didn't blame him.
Liam rose up from the table and finally let his other arm free from the confines of the back of his shirt. Paying little mind to the whispers of his friends beside him as he exited the set to put his dice box in the cabinet. He closed the door and fumbled with his pockets, searching for his phone and the quickest Uber home. The screen seemed obnoxiously bright in the dim hall.
Lost in his own train of thought, he barely noticed the shuffling around him. Jumping when a body came into the very, very close vicinity. His eyes traveled up the laced, split bodice and – 'god, Liam, don't look at her breasts, she's practically...'. She giggled, and the moment passed. Well aware of what she had on and the position she'd put herself in, intentional or otherwise.
“Hey, look,” Travis called from behind, already having shed his sash, coat, and various accessories that had been weighing him down all night, “Sorry about that before. We talked about it, you should really come stay the night with us. It's closer to the airport and we can just swing by your place tomorrow help you grab your shit. Then you don't have to deal with cabs in the morning traffic. Deal?”
“Guys, I appreciate it, really, but I don't wanna intrude on your night. It's not a big-”
Laura stepped forward, placing a hand to his chest to stop his exaggerated motions. He got the feeling he was being told to shut up. Moreso, he got the feeling....
...Why was she pulling her hand back to play with her broach? 'Don't look at her breasts, don't look at her breasts, fuck. You idiot. Don't...'
She smiled, coyly, even for her and took another step forward, “My love?”
“Please,” Travis clasped a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped, “I insist. Besides...” he squeezed down, just enough, voice returning to it's former accent. Liam winced slightly, confused, and all too familiar with how this scenario played out before as he felt the hot breath against his ear. “You look delicious.”
He managed to turn around and see his friend face to face. To say Willingham had a physical presence about him on a normal day would be an understatement all it's own. But tonight was different. On set his makeup had looked cheap and stagey. Under the dark contrast of the hall on the other hand it looked... almost too convincing. The slightly hallowed cheeks and pale skin. His eyes unblinking, glinting just right under the unnatural glow of the bulb above them. He didn't let go of his shoulder, just shifted his grasp, moving his other hand to softly stroke his cheek.
This was the part where he'd crack a grin and a bad joke, but he found a lump in his throat in it's place.
So he nodded.
“I do believe we'll take that as a “yes”, then?” Laura took his hand in her own and tossed Travis the keys, leading him to follow the bigger man out of the studio.
He didn't protest. He didn't say anything at all.
He stared out the window on the ride back to their place. Back seat, with Laura still clutching his hand, rubbing a lazy finger over his thigh. His thoughts raced a mile per minute as he tried to focus on the passing streetlights and cars as they drove by.
Sometimes he forgot his friends were actors. Which was absurd, given how often he's been their director. Yelling at these two to try it another way, give it one more try, a little higher pitched, a little more serious. Having to be that asshole who reminds them time is money and they're wasting time goofing off in the sound booth. Tonight they certainly had him convinced.
… And he was going home with them.
… And he was pretty sure it wasn't to play more D&D.
It was crazy but his mind wandered to ridiculous ideas. What if it was all real? All the magic in the world. Would it make it any less weird if this somehow wasn't actually his friends? The Briarwoods, surely, had passed through some sort of rift in their plane. Their essence possessing his friends. Or maybe they were re-incarnated lovers from a past life when dragons did roam. It couldn't just be that he had tricked himself into thinking he couldn't move a muscle because she was beside him and had no intention of releasing her hold.
Getting to their house was a blur. Being led to the door. Wanting to say this was silly and he shouldn't let them go through with whatever it was meant to be until those eyes pierced his thoughts and he was reminded, without doubt, that these were his friends that he loved and they only wanted the best for him. He trusted them. Completely.
So he found himself there, standing in front of their bed.
Just as Matt had described so long ago. A lavish purple canopy on four posts. Two wine glasses on a bed post being filled with the most crimson red they could probably find at the local liquor store. He watched briefly as Laura left to fetch a third glass, barely noticing Travis bringing a chair in from the guest room and setting it beside the bed. The clink of the third glass hitting the top of the dresser. The sound of the back zipper of her dress.
“Second thoughts?” The lace was sliding off her shoulders, exposing even more of her chest and leaving the choker firmly around her neck. “It would be so rude of you to leave now... The night is only getting started.”
He looked at Travis assisting her, brushing against her flesh. Not shaking that this seemed like such a private moment. They were married for god's sake, he shouldn't be here taking up space. He shouldn't be seeing this. Shouldn't be a part of this. Shouldn't feel the heat in his skin. He shouldn't *be here*.
“He's nervous, my dear. He'll come around soon enough.”
“Trav-” He got distracted, trailing off in the middle of his name as Laura slinked her way back to the bed, flushing as he tried not to follow every movement of her hips under the loose fabric. “... I should leave you alone.”
“We are alone. The three of us.” Laura chimed, removing her earrings.
“That's not... that's not when I meant.”
Travis sighed faintly behind him, “Remove this,” he tugged on Liam's shirt, “I'd hate for you to be uncomfortable, and it's so warm in here, don't you agree?” It *was* hot in the room. Whether it be the California air or the sight of the half naked woman in front of him or the mere suggestion raising hairs on his skin, he wasn't sure. “Come now, don't be so afraid. We'll make you nice and comfortable.”
He forced him to look at him again, well aware by now of the effect it was having.
“Travis...”
“You know that's not my name,” his tone was stern, warning.
Liam stepped back, hitting his calf on the mattress and falling to a sit on it.
“..S...Silas.”
Travis hummed, pleased, and barely not breaking his character as his friend stuttered, “Hmm?”
“Lord Silas.”
“Good boy.”