here;now

Nearly startled, Morgan’s focus breaks as he glances up, his brain taking a moment to process what the other woman just said to him. “Oh!” His cheeks started to flush a slight pink, and he looks around, as if remembering where he was. “I mean–I see them, but I’m not going to gawk at them, I guess,” he said with a rather shy smile. “I had things to work on. Personal assistants don’t get days off, even if my boss basically forced me to be here.” 

"okay, so wait." dj takes a brief moment to take in the really nonsensical information provided by the man sitting down, just as she seats on the little couch across from him, as if she intends to keep the conversation going. she isn't opposed to that, after all she's not particularly interested in anyone herself, at the moment. "so your boss forced you to come to basically a sex club. okay, that makes little sense but i'll roll with it. so isn't he bothered by you being on your laptop? assuming his goal was to get you laid, or something." she sets down the glass of scotch on the center table, now much more interested in this guy's story than in the drink.

it's 8pm and evelyn's entering the elevator on the fifth floor. a wednesday is as good a day as any to be having a casual friendly dinner with a newly made possible friend after a day of excruciatingly annoying work. she's put on nice clothes, but nothing too revealing, and heads for the hotel restaurant, where she made plans with andrea. as soon as she arrives and gives her name to the hostess, she's led to a very comfortable two-seat booth at the very far corner of the venue, and is quickly served with a glass of courtesy wine and generous couvert. she finds herself nibbling on some bread as she waits for andrea to arrive, but the woman doesn't take too long to appear in her sight. "hm," eve chuckles coyly as she covers her mouth to finish chewing, "hi, how are you?" she gets up from her seat to great the other woman quickly, before seating back down and nodding to the waiter behind andrea, signaling him to bring a glass of wine for her company.

the  smirk  is  reciprocated  as  jackie  finishes  another  glass,  this  time  leaving  it  empty  on  the  bar  as  evelyn  started  talking.  metropolitan  intellectuals  are  nothing  new  here,  but  she  …  no.  she  wasn’t  them.  the  compliment  was  nice,  though  she  felt  the  need  to  cut  through  the  leading  question  briefly,  instead  of  playing  into  it.  ❝  oh,  i  mean  the  “ having  sex  with  women “  thing,  ❞  she  responded,  playfully.  it  was  fairly  obvious  to  her,  just  as  her  own  preference  must’ve  seemed  obvious  to  evelyn  in  hindsight.  ❝  i’m tempted  to  build  on  that,  but  you  lost  me  at  the  implication  of  horse  ownership,  ❞  she  followed  her  tease  with  a  subtle,  bubbling  laugh,  before  coming  back  around  to  a  nod.  ❝  you  could  probably  convince  some  of  the  older  ones,  but  you’re  right.  and  when  they’re  not  straight,  they’re  not  exactly  exclusive.  ❞  dark  eyes  fall  upon  the  woman’s  elegant  features,  drinking  her  in  without  mercy as  she  leaned  closer  to  her,  close  enough  to  catch  her  scent  and  take  it  in.  ❝  what  about  me,  hm ?  am  i  interesting,  miss  brontë  ?  ❞

"well, i always figured that thing was pretty transparent to the rest of the world." and she has no doubt it is. evelyn assumes that is probably jackie's way of being 100% sure she's flirting with someone that can (and will) reciprocate. "as you are, to be honest. it's crystal clear," she completes, for her own sake. eve can't help but laugh along, somewhat shyly, but only because she does see how unpredictable it is that she'd own horses. "three horses, actually. martin, jeremy and belinda." it is beyond my abilities to explain why in the hell eve's name dropping her horses. we'll roll past that, as she did it so absentmindedly. "i guess i'm not desperate enough to go looking to convince other people to sleep with me. that's kinda too depressing, even for a 50-year-old sitting alone at a bar." self deprecating humor? count evelyn in. "bronte? whew, now you've got me flattered." a very unexpected reference, why thank you, but nonetheless appreciated by eve. she resists the urge to quote some jane eyre out of nowhere, simply because it will definitely get in the way of the very obvious and wanted flirting going on. "you are interesting, yes, there's no doubt in that. so much so that i've noticed you before. powell. i read your name tag in the lobby the other day." oh, that day? eve was definitely staring at her boobs, no question. but she isn't lying when she says she's noticed her - for more than her looks. evelyn's drawn to her whole attitude, whether it's an act or not, she couldn't care less at this point.

angela  never  cared  much  for  her  money.  she  wouldn’t  say  it  out  loud,  but  her  career  was  borne  from  a  desire  for  validation  and  recognition.  one  dj  gleefully  exploits,  in  ways  that  irritate  and  chill  her  ( as  she  just  did,  making  angela’s  breath  shudder  ever  so  briefly  before  returning  to  reality ).  should  the  woman  ever  actually  get  fired,  it  wouldn’t  be  long  before  she  found  something  else  to  do,  perhaps  a  little  closer  to  angela’s  home.  but  as  easy  as  it  would  be,  the  risk  is  what  made  it  so  tense.  and  the  tension  always  made  what  came  next  exhausting.  but  when  they  finally  stopped,  angela  instinctively   eased  herself  against  the  wall,  doe  eyes  carefully  taking  in  dae - jin’s  features  with  an  expression  of  mild  curiosity.

she’s  right,  though:  she  knew  just  how  anxious  the  woman  got  seeing  who  she  thought  was  hers  adored  by  others.  angela  was  quick  to  play  it  up,  knowing  just  how  aggressive  she  could  get  dj  to  be  if  the  right  buttons  were  pushed.  such  is  the  reason  why  she  plays  so  coy,  thigh  raised  briefly  so  the  playful  fabric  of  her  skirt  drags  up  along  it  in  a  tease.  ❝  oh  …  that’s  why,  ❞  she  whispered,  voice  silken  and  witchlike.  the  hand  that  once  lived  in  dj’s  back  pocket  now  slowly  glides  along  her  lower  back,  urging  her  to  come  closer,  but  not  forcing  her  to.  instead  she  leans  forward,  close  enough  to  kiss  her,  only  to  let  the  tip  of  her  tongue  draw  faintly  over  the  woman’s  lips.  ❝  i  guess  they  were  watching,  huh ?  maybe  you  could …   ❞  she  maintains  that  close  proximity,  feeling  the  woman’s  warm  breath  on  her  skin.  ❝  i’unno.  ❞

consumed by possessive thoughts and feelings, dj is incapable of thinking things through well enough to assure they have enough privacy. not that she needs it. dae-jin has mixed feelings about public encounters - on one hand, she wants to be able to have the other person fully and completely to herself during that time. on the other, she can't deny she wants people to see how utterly hers angie is in those moments. as she sees angela take steps back towards the wall, dj nearly gapes in awe of her presence. she anticipates that angie's got something in her mind.

He smiled and stepped in. “So why are you here if you’re not looking for sex?” He asked her as he walked past her. “If that’s not too much to ask of course.” He added. Looking around he smiled and sat down. “And uh, I don’t mind the boomer lingo, I’m hip to it.” He winked. “Wine would be great.“ He added as his eyes tracked her around the kitchen.

she  concedes  a  bit  of  a nod  and  a  shrug.  maybe  she’s  right.  sometimes  you  don’t.  but  sometimes  you  do.  rolling  her  head  over  just  enough  to  see  the  edge  of  evelyn’s  smile,  eyebrow  rises  in  recognition  before  she  takes  another  drink.  she’s  sure  they’ve  had  each  other  figured  out  for  weeks  now,  preference  wise.  it’s  just  nice  to  have  some  company  who  knows  what  it’s  like.  ❝  who  knows,  ❞  she  goes  on,  taking  the  bottle  and  pouring  herself  another  glass.  ❝  if  it  isn’t,  maybe  it  turns  into  one  of  those  things  you  write  about.  ❞  of  course  she  knows,  at  least  at  a  surface  level.  security  does  background  checks  on  anyone  lucky  enough  to  get  a  membership,  just  to  know  what  kinds  of  antics  they’re  in  for.  drug  smugglers,  white  collar  criminals,  the  whole  nine  yards.  but  it  didn’t  take  that  much  research  to  know  who  evelyn  was,  and  more  importantly,  what  she’d  be  looking  for.  ❝  didn’t  know  you’d  be  into  that  kind  of  thing,  ❞  she  remarks  in  a  joking  tone.  ❝  find  any  interesting  women  around  here ?  ❞

evelyn examines the woman sitting next to her, avoiding being caught doing so. she's seen her in the hotel a couple of times, some other days in the club. her profession was easy to determine, but not easier than making out her sexuality. it's not like eve herself hasn't checked the hot security guard in the hotel lobby before. the mention of her book throws her for a second, before she gets around to the fact that, well, it isn't that hard to find out what she does for a living, and despite having only dabbed into writing about women in two of her books (the others being mostly about architecture - i know, how dull), she knows what jackie was on about. she throws a well earned smirk her way, "you did your homework." eve raises her glass as a gesture of respect, then takes another sip of the drink. "what kind of thing, you mean?" she inquires for curiosity's sake, looking for a more thorough explanation, but jumps quickly to the other topic at hand. "all women are interesting, but most women here are... let's say, younger than my youngest horse. or straighter than my best floor plan."

even  on  her  days  off,  clubbing  takes  a  particular  mood.  she’s  not  in  one  tonight.  bottle  in  hand,  she  managed  to  snag  a  couple  glasses  from  the  bartender  only  to  pour  one  for  herself,  another  for  eve,  sliding  the  glass  in  front  of  her.  turning  to  seat  herself  with  her  back  leaned  against  the  bar,  drink  in  hand,  jackie  couldn’t  help  but  let  her  gaze  wander  back  to  the  woman’s  face,  eyes  half  -  squinted  to  make  out  her  features  behind  the  lights,  even  as  the  crowd  seemed  to  be  winding  down.  ❝  you  usually  do  this ?  ❞  her  voice  is  stern,  but  curious,  repeated  after  a  sip  of  her  drink.  ❝  sitting  around  by  yourself.  seems  a  little  unproductive,  don’t  you  think ?  ❞  it’s  become  a  pattern,  and  an  irritating  one.  she  shouldn’t  have  to  be  by  herself.  maybe  the  age  is  what  discouraged  the  passers by.  ❝  at  least  it  was.  ❞

the thing is: eve is mostly alone in LA. she vacations back home in greenport, then picks up a project in california. for the following months (sometimes years), she spends weekdays in LA and weekends in greenport. so you see her situation? being alone every single day in her hotel room would be no fun, so even if she's not particularly in a club mood, she at least tries to get a few drinks in before heading to bed for the evening. this weekend, however, she found herself still in LA, her wife busy with all her county executive duties over in new york. saturdays meant drinking like you don't have an alarm clock - 'cause you don't. "some nights you don't want that kind of productive," evelyn responds, her voice modulated. she isn't rude at all, in fact she smiles after her words. she looks down at the glass slipped in front of her and analyzes it for its content. whatever it is, she's having it. "i thought this was one of those nights, but maybe i was wrong." she takes a sip, still sitting towards the bar, eyes wandering through the bottles on the shelves behind the bartender.

even  she  got  bored  of  it  sometimes.  she  didn’t  come  here  to  sign  autographs  and  play  nice  for  the  press  after  all,  dj  knew  that  better  than  anyone.  but  the  opportunity  to  make  her  seethe ?  she  couldn’t  pass  it  up.  not  possible.  she  didn’t  mind  the  hand,  either,  even  in  public;  plush  lips  curled  into  a  smile  and  she  edged  closer  to  the  woman’s  lean frame,  control  released  to  follow  along  across  the  court  and  through  the  nearby  gym.  while  they  walked,  at  least  while  they  were  out  of  everyone  else’s  line  of  sight,  angela  let  one  of  hands  slip  into  dj’s  back  pocket,  fingertips  caressing  the  flesh  beneath  gently  as  they  walked.  ❝  that  right ?  ❞  her  voice  is  soft,  bubbly  and  energetic,  vigor  renewed  as  the  other’s  strong  hand  presses  against  her  skin.

she  was  always  a  little  secretive,  at  least  with  dj.  not  for  her  own  sake.  they’d  done  a  few  …  questionable  things  in  public  places  before,  the  thought  was  thrilling.  no,  it  was  more  for  fear  of  the  other  woman’s  job.  she  knew  how  strict  management  could  be  regarding  the  whereabouts  of  their  staff.  maybe  that’s  what  made  it  so  fun.  ❝  you  seem  a  little  tense,  ❞  she  remarked  idly,  soft  lips  grazing  over  exposed  neck  to  dot  a  gentle  kiss  upon  the  skin,  teeth  teasing  dj’s  earlobe  as  they  retreated  further  inside.  ❝  was  i  that  good ?  ❞

of course seeing angie being adored by fans made dae-jin wonder if she should've pursued her track&field career harsher. she hadn't thought about that in a long time, but being around someone who did all there was to do, won all there is to win, it all made her think. at least angie has no idea dj ever competed. that would be way too embarrassing. she always decides she's fine where she is, though. how could she not be? the closest thing to being an olympian is fucking one. the thought escaped her mind just as she felt angie's hand slide into her pocket. it felt intimate, in a way, and at the same time sensual. 

Jaxon smiled at her as she opened the door. “Uh, did you not ask for me to come up?” He asked curiously. He looked at his slip of paper and blushed. “Sorry, dyslexia.” He said. “I got the wrong room.” He replied. “You have a goodnight.” He said turning to go.

wednesdays  could  always  be  worse.  being  here,  this  visible,  meant  there  would  always  be  challengers.  everyone  wanted  to  play  the  olympian.  eeeeeeeeeeeeveryone  wanted  to  talk  about  what  she’d  done,  what  she’d  seen.  she’d  indulge  them,  if  only  because  it  was  the  perfect  stage  for  her  to  show  off  for  a  particular  voyeur  in  the  audience.  of  course  she  knew  dj  would  be  there.  of  course  that  meant  her  skirt  would  go  a  little  higher,  her  grunts  at  contact  more  visceral  and  suggestive,  her  movements  more  fluid.  it  was  one  of  the  few  times  she  had  any  power  over  the  woman,  forcing  her  to  sit  and  watch,  unable  to  act.  but  as  soon  as  she  finished,  adjusting  the  polo  shirt  just  enough  to  catch  the  other’s  attention,  bubbly  personality  fluttered  out  as  she  approached  her  opponent  with  a  smile,  as  dj  hadn’t  been  hungrily  eyeing  her  like  a  predator  in  the  tall  grass. 

but  she  indulged  the  conversation  only  about  as  long  as  she  could,  feeling  the  familiar  pressure  on  her  wrist,  and  a  voice  tinged  with  need  whispering  in  her  ear.  a  thin  breath  released  as  she  made  her  excuse,  pulled  away  at  dj’s  side  with  a  devilish  grin  playing  at  her  lips.  ❝  you  usually  last  a  little  longer,  ❞  she  mocked,  thumb  playfully  grazing  the  other’s  hand,  as  if  the  woman’s  words  didn’t  chill  her  spine. 

angie was FAMOUS. that was an established fact that surrounded the situation. she received wanted and unwanted attention anywhere she went, and around the hotel premises it was no different. whenever word got out that megastar world champion whatever-else hot shot angela patterson was hanging around the hotel, paps and what not came to check it out. dj felt honored she was the one training a fucking olympian, to be honest, and angie did look a lot in her element surrounded by attention. however, it would be a lie to say that dj didn't wish no other people could see all that angie had prepared for her. just for HER.

saturday  nights  were  always  the  most  difficult.  she  resented  club  duty  for  a  few  reasons;  hot  room,  too  many  people  to  watch,  always  at  least  two  people  trying  to  sneak  out  without  paying  a  tab  or  with  a  bottle  under  their  jacket.  that,  and  she  wasn’t  allowed  to  partake  in  the  fun.  at  least  until  she  got  called  to  handle  someone;  it  wouldn’t  take  long,  as  she  hauled  a  man  out  of  the  room  by  force.  after  throwing  him  through  the  door,  her  watch  buzzed  twice,  indicating  the  end  of  her  shift.  finally.  under  the  pretense  of  returning  the  bottle  to  the  bartender,  one  hand  adjusted  the  leather  jacket  briefly  as  she  floated  her  way  closer  to  the  woman  seated  there,  eventually  perching  on  the  stool  next  to  her.   ❝  buy  you  a  drink ?  ❞  she  joked,  taking  the  bottle  for  herself  and  flicking  the  cap  off.   @isolatcs​

eve favored frequenting the bar other than making appointment via the hotel. something about calling in and asking for company made her feel aggressively creepy, like an old man who can't find someone willing to fuck him for free. so she visited the bar - hoped she would find someone to spend the night with, if not, an escort would approach her before the end of the night, introducing herself like any other person. evelyn could tell, though. still, she felt less of a weirdo, like at least she was playing pretend. god, that's fucked up. she scratched her head, elbow resting on the bar counter as she sat on the stool. the sudden presence of someone by her side caught her off guard. she hesitated, observing the woman in front of her. she'd caught her eye earlier in the evening - eve had noticed her looking around the room. she wasn't an escort. "sure," she decided. maybe fucking the security guard would make her feel better about herself than paying someone.