#labelau

Touch: Roulé hates touching others. Except Cryda (he likes that). Cryda loves people, touching them, fucking them. But Roulé's definitely his favorite.

Crydamoure is largely summer/tropical themed, hence the sunglasses and slightly more casual look. Each Crydamoure release had a unique appearance, so I'm toying with Crydamoure constantly changing his outfit, wing colour and glasses. (I guess these are Intergalaktic Disko colours.)  Le Knight Club is also capable of a very romantic and emotional sentimentality that’s seldom found in the usually anxious and gritty music of Roule, so I suppose this Crydamoure's default disposition is calm and warm, but he has his perverted, crass and mischievous sides as well.

cryda's a babe

(part 1!)

It seemed as of late that Crydamour, or Guy as his closer friends called him, had been more sentimental than usual. Well. That’s not quite the word Roulé would use for him. More like “obnoxious” is the word he’d prefer. But what matters is that Crydamour had dragged Roulé to this strip joint see, and not just for the girls- because there was more to him than just girls and sex thank you- yes, he also came for the drinks- because, no, there’s not much passed him after you add drinks to the mix. Unless you consider the fact that he’s been in love with the man he calls his closest friend as a personality trait, but most agree that Guy loved him solely because Roulé is, to put it eloquently, handsome as fuck. He’s tall, dark haired, straight backed, strong nosed, tight jawed, cigar smoked perfection. Everything a person could want. Yunno, except for the fact that he never thought of Guy as anything more than a nuisance. Which brings us back to the club. Guy has been successfully crying into his… Ninth? Drink for what had to have been about fifteen minutes now. Roulé sighs with distaste, but can’t bring himself to leave his friend, so he sits there patiently, swirling around his scotch as Crydamour finally calmed down enough to mumble something about what brought all this on. Which Roulé didn’t quite hear, as for one, he wasn’t really listening, and two, he was way too annoyed to really care. “What?” Though he didn’t quite mean it, even Roulé could hear the contempt in his voice. Crydamour flinched. “I said,” Guy started off again, this time loud enough to be heard, though it was rather shaky. “Why don’t you like me, Thomas?” Roulé blinked, seemingly stunned, so, instead of waiting, Guy continued. “I’ve liked you for so fucking long, and I mean yeah I know that I’m really awful and I’m not a good friend and I make you spend money on me but I just really really like you and doing horrible things forces you to give me attention and if anyone knows how much I crave attention it’s you and I mean really if you haven’t left by now I thought maybe you might like me back but I guess not s-“ He’s cut off when Thomas grips his jaw tight enough to hurt- so tight enough to shut him up for five minutes. Which is plenty of time really, because Thomas just looks him straight in the eye and says, “When have I ever said I didn’t like you, idiot?” Now it’s Guy’s turn to be stunned into silence. Thomas sighs before letting go, tuning back to his drink as if he never said anything. So Crydamour does what he does best, and presses a kiss to Roulé’s cheek, placing a hand on the opposite side of Thomas’s face so he can turn him again, and once more leaned forward for a kiss, this time directly on the mouth. Roulé responds immediately, kissing back with a fervour, one hand moving to tangle into long, pastel pink hair, the other resting lightly on a thigh. This may have been their first kiss- though they’ve fucked plenty- but with Roulé squeezing Crydamour’s thigh, his tongue pushing past the shorter’s lips, they both promise it will most certainly not be their last.