jonboy: (living)
Jonathan Crane ([personal profile] jonboy) wrote in [community profile] toxicbaes2024-01-10 07:57 pm
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3rs: (note the 'you')

[personal profile] 3rs 2024-01-10 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
So far, his English adventure wasn't panning out that differently from what he had imagined it would be. Sure, there were some unrealistic dreams of sweeping some rich lady - or gentleman for that matter - off their feet with his boyish good looks and Irish charm, but while Ed liked being a dreamer, he also happened to be a realist.

He hadn't been here for long yet. It hadn't been that easy to get a place, because while he could make a valiant effort of hiding the accent a little if he wanted to, he didn't really want to. Anyway, people always asked. Still, he had managed to get a room from a landlady by being as charming as possible and promising no trouble and no bringing home of women. He'd have to pay for it though, so after his first few interviews went less than great, he took his guitar and found himself a reasonably busy street to busk on.

Turned out that the charm and the good looks worked a lot faster there than they seemed to in job interviews and room hunting, so while he played his tunes and sung along, he was actually getting a decent amount.

He was near finishing one song when he heard a horse approach, so he stopped and moved to the side a little, leaning his head back and watching. Beautiful horse, as far as he could tell. He wasn't really an export, but it looked pretty.

"She's a beaut!" He called out to the rider, whose face was hard to make out properly from that angle and with that cap on. "Does she like music?"
jonboy: (drinking)

[personal profile] jonboy 2024-01-10 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Jonathan arrived back home later than he wanted to, the sun had set as he arrived but their was a fire going, candles lit and he could mostly see where he was going. Mostly. He had brought himself a torch from the local offy a couple of weeks back so he could ride down the country lanes and see where the hell he was going.

He tied up the horse as soon as he got back and left her in the makeshift stalls before he headed passed some of the locals. He said hi, he was nice and polite but he wasn't really in the mood to talk to people. He didn't like people. He didn't want to be social. He wanted to be alone but he didn't get the option. Dad left him in charge before he fucked off and for some reason, people took it seriously.

Walking up the steps of the caravan, he walked in to see Holden and Axel reading together by candle light, like good lads, and Alfie was in the kitchen doing God knows what.

Jonathan didn't say anything, he just flopped onto the nearest bed. Fucking hell, what a day.
jonboy: (ponder)

[personal profile] jonboy 2024-01-11 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Jon had told himself all day that he wouldn't take that route home, that it seemed ultimately pointless and he didn't want Edward anyway - and yet, when he left the caravan that day, he grabbed his fiddle. Now why the bloody hell did he do that? Well, if Edward was busking, perhaps he fancied some company. And company didn't have to be an opportunity.

That was what he told himself. That he brought it as a show of support, perhaps a talking piece and not at all to show off a little so a guy like Edward might be drawn in. It didn't help to try and think these things.

As soon as he saw Edward, he felt right into the lap of temptation all over again. Those fucking eyes, he could drown in them and when they looked right at him, he lost his breath for a second. He paused across the street and looked back at Edward but he didn't approach. He looked away and lit up up a cigarette.

What the fuck did he do now?
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