[Theo has two levels to his response in being told to drop the magic act - the first is to easily concede and do so in a moment's time by returning to what he was wearing on arrival. His coat's sloped off him but he's still in a hoodie, much less erotic than a low buttoned shirt - but Tony's hand is still where it rested, now just over fabric rather than skin. He blinks for a beat, raising a brow as if to say 'that what you wanted?' before he moves on to the second level in his response. One he doesn't often do.
His eyes are no longer a too-perfect blue, but rather a dark and near black brown. No features on his face have changed but there's something less perfect about him, like a filter's been taken away and left him to resemble nothing but his mortal self. He blinks a few more times in silence, surveying Tony for his response, before he's tugging his hoodie up with one hand to show off a triangle of skin beneath.]
You want to feel real, this is real.
[He's interested, as always, in whether or not people still find him intriguing when all the act is gone.]
[ The material reappearing under Tony's palm is a weird sensation, a swoop of vertigo for a split second as his visual and physical senses relaying different things that makes him blink and shake his head. He reorients quickly, pulling his hands back to watch the rest of the show -- though it's not much of a show, more like a settling down of something he hadn't noticed until it disappeared.
His head tilts slightly as he looks back up at Theo, his gaze tracking across normal but still undoubtably good looking features. Obediently, he reaches out to flatten his palm over Theo's warm stomach, sliding around underneath the softer material of the hoodie to his hip. ]
Feels pretty real to me. Come here. [ He pushes at him a bit, angling to get him kneeling across him in the booth so he can put his mouth where his hand was. ]
[Who is he to say no to a request? Theo lets himself be moved and takes direction easily, holding up his shirt before lazily just crossing his arms to take the hoodie off all together. He's got one of Oliver's crop tops underneath that needs even less work to be held out of the way - otherwise his abdomen is bare, save for a navel piercing and the little circle by his hip that denotes a cursed mark left on him. Little circle with a sharp edged 'B' that swims like ink in water against his skin - though, for the moment, he's circumventing it's shitty effects.]
Kinda feels like you're great for a lot of things.
[ If it's a read, it's a mild one, though there's an edge to it that suggests that Tony could be cruel about it if he wanted to, though slut shaming from him would be pretty hypocritical. For right now, he just does what he's wanted to since Theo arrived and leans in to set nose and mouth against his abdomen, kissing and licking his way down a few inches before he pulls back again and tilts a look up at him. Speculative, as if he's considering something he might want to buy.
He flattens a hand along Theo's side, then moves it until he can put the pad of his thumb over that little tattoo. ]
What do you want? Truly. No bullshit. Not just from me or this moment. In general.
[Theo'd be used to that kind of read - he is undeniably used to it, to the point where he doesn't even recognize it - so he doesn't give a shit about picking at it. Especially when there's other fun to be had. He's playing a role after all, and part of that is... acting on slutty impulses? Whatever, 2023 him will have to deal with the meaning of it all and the weight it has on him but they're not there yet. Much rather, he's looking at Tony with his lips parted and a soft breath exhaling as he feels his lips move over his skin. He shivers only after that, when he's relaxing against Tony's touch and his thumb rests on the mark.
He's put his hand up on Tony's bicep somewhere in the process of the last few seconds, not thinking about it, but he looks back up to meet gaze. What does he want is such a fucking question. There are half dozen things he could say right now. Filler. Good retorts. Nothing particularly honest because:]
I don't know. A good time?
['I want you to think I'm confident in everything I do, not that I'm this shittily put together skeleton of a human who uses sex to avoid confronting my various issues and massive pile of backlogged baggage.']
I don't want messy, I don't want tethers. I want good times, free shit and a lot of sex. I like affection but I don't want to feel boxed in. Restricted. Sound fair?
[ Not that it was positioned as what can I do for you, but Tony prefers it when he feels like he's achieving something, like he's fulfilling a need of some kind. He studies the angles of the younger man's face, hand sliding sideways and down to rub over Theo's crotch, feeling out what he's got to work with.
While he's doing that, he reaches up with his other hand to unbutton his shirt down to the middle of his sternum, baring the perfect circle of scar tissue and slight indentation in the middle of his chest. He doesn't stop moving the hand between Theo's legs, just tilts his chin to look up at him. Probably not a normal time to have a conversation like this, but it feels like a good moment for honesty -- for vulnerability. ]
[Theo's brows lift and he lets out a happy little noise when Tony's hand skims over the growing bulge in his pants, briefly closing his eyes before blinking them back open to look at what Tony's other hand is doing. He's bared his chest and it catches Theo's eye, bringing up his hand to trace his fingers over the ridge of scar tissue with a feather light touch.]
I feel like scars often tell a story. Any mark left on you does.
[It's said with an admiring tone, finger tracing before he's looking back up to meet Tony's gaze.]
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no subject
His eyes are no longer a too-perfect blue, but rather a dark and near black brown. No features on his face have changed but there's something less perfect about him, like a filter's been taken away and left him to resemble nothing but his mortal self. He blinks a few more times in silence, surveying Tony for his response, before he's tugging his hoodie up with one hand to show off a triangle of skin beneath.]
You want to feel real, this is real.
[He's interested, as always, in whether or not people still find him intriguing when all the act is gone.]
no subject
His head tilts slightly as he looks back up at Theo, his gaze tracking across normal but still undoubtably good looking features. Obediently, he reaches out to flatten his palm over Theo's warm stomach, sliding around underneath the softer material of the hoodie to his hip. ]
Feels pretty real to me. Come here. [ He pushes at him a bit, angling to get him kneeling across him in the booth so he can put his mouth where his hand was. ]
no subject
[Who is he to say no to a request? Theo lets himself be moved and takes direction easily, holding up his shirt before lazily just crossing his arms to take the hoodie off all together. He's got one of Oliver's crop tops underneath that needs even less work to be held out of the way - otherwise his abdomen is bare, save for a navel piercing and the little circle by his hip that denotes a cursed mark left on him. Little circle with a sharp edged 'B' that swims like ink in water against his skin - though, for the moment, he's circumventing it's shitty effects.]
You know, I'm great for taking shots off of.
no subject
[ If it's a read, it's a mild one, though there's an edge to it that suggests that Tony could be cruel about it if he wanted to, though slut shaming from him would be pretty hypocritical. For right now, he just does what he's wanted to since Theo arrived and leans in to set nose and mouth against his abdomen, kissing and licking his way down a few inches before he pulls back again and tilts a look up at him. Speculative, as if he's considering something he might want to buy.
He flattens a hand along Theo's side, then moves it until he can put the pad of his thumb over that little tattoo. ]
What do you want? Truly. No bullshit. Not just from me or this moment. In general.
no subject
He's put his hand up on Tony's bicep somewhere in the process of the last few seconds, not thinking about it, but he looks back up to meet gaze. What does he want is such a fucking question. There are half dozen things he could say right now. Filler. Good retorts. Nothing particularly honest because:]
I don't know. A good time?
['I want you to think I'm confident in everything I do, not that I'm this shittily put together skeleton of a human who uses sex to avoid confronting my various issues and massive pile of backlogged baggage.']
I don't want messy, I don't want tethers. I want good times, free shit and a lot of sex. I like affection but I don't want to feel boxed in. Restricted. Sound fair?
no subject
[ Not that it was positioned as what can I do for you, but Tony prefers it when he feels like he's achieving something, like he's fulfilling a need of some kind. He studies the angles of the younger man's face, hand sliding sideways and down to rub over Theo's crotch, feeling out what he's got to work with.
While he's doing that, he reaches up with his other hand to unbutton his shirt down to the middle of his sternum, baring the perfect circle of scar tissue and slight indentation in the middle of his chest. He doesn't stop moving the hand between Theo's legs, just tilts his chin to look up at him. Probably not a normal time to have a conversation like this, but it feels like a good moment for honesty -- for vulnerability. ]
I asked you for real. So this is real for me.
no subject
I feel like scars often tell a story. Any mark left on you does.
[It's said with an admiring tone, finger tracing before he's looking back up to meet Tony's gaze.]
You must have quite a story.