or say we're only dreaming;

[melocoton]

O P E N P O S T
❝ don't you dare close your eyes❞
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♥ request one of my muses from my desperately needing an update muselist
♥ i'll respond to it and we can thread some stuff and things.
♥ post is NOT nsfw sorry ;A;

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[runtcheeks]

[ Order is relatively important to Alby -- always has been, always will be. He's a tough, stern guy, made up of defined lines, straight edge cuts. He's a hard worker, he's a good business man.

Order gets boring.

He makes a note to never travel to England in order to avoid whoever is the bearer of his tattoo. ( Bloody hell, honestly, what even is that. )

But he also doesn't avoid going to England at all -- whenever business sets up overseas meetings, he's the first to volunteer, the happiest to drop his life and travel for a week to a different place. He's always the saddest when he comes home, empty hands showing themselves to an empty apartment in uptown, empty hands making empty meals and living an empty life and so on. Order gets boring as loneliness gets boring -- not sad or depressing but dull, like the world is empty, made up of black and white and faded gray.

Alby doesn't need anyone, of course. But, as always, needing and wanting are two very different things -- and if he admits, sometimes, in the dead of night when there's no one to hold, no one to listen to him, that he does want someone to hold and to listen to him -- then, well. At least there's no one around to laugh at him, either.

Today is meant to be the same as any other, riding the subway down to the last stop, which ends right in front of his apartment. It's good -- it means he doesn't have to buy a car, but more importantly that for a little while, he gets to be around people. Largely boring businessmen like himself ( boring? when did he get boring? ), but on occasion there's a handsome, skinny man bumping into him, with wheaty blonde hair and bright brown eyes.

And also saying the words he's got tattooed on the inside of his arm. ]

Careful. [ He says automatically, arms reaching out to steady him -- but then he realizes, realizes he knows those words, he's seen them on himself everyday since his eighteenth birthday.

His eyebrows knit a little as he looks down at the tiny runt of a guy, all pale skin and rabbity features. They couldn't be more different, he finds himself thinking. ]

[gimp]

[ for a minute, newt just stares at him. the train's stopped rocking now, finding sort of a steady pace as they wind around another curve underneath the city streets, and though he's lost his grip on the pole he'd been holding onto, hands having jerked forward and landed on the guy's shoulder to keep from falling over, newt doesn't quite feel like he's going to fall over.

at least not physically.

mentally? mentally, he just heard him say it. "careful" is such an easy thing, the kind of word just anyone could say to another person. he'd heard it from his mother, from family, but never in that exact manner. instead, it was from a stranger, much, much shorter than him, but with dark skin and dark eyes and kind of a stocky build and he was struck, a little, by the difference between them, too. he was definitely attractive, and could he flash forward to seeing time spent with this guy? yeah. yeah, he really, really could.

his mouth tips up into kind of a crooked looking smile, and a flush comes across his cheeks, and newt doesn't move his hands, leaving them on his shoulders. he sounds stupidly breathless when he mutters, again, ] Bloody hell.

[ but the second time, it's a little reverent sounding, and his smile tips up a little more, until it squints an eye shut. ] Hullo.

[runtcheeks]

[ Alby finds himself to be a little bit lost on the customs for dealing with a soulmate -- because he does, actually, believe this guy to be his. Dare he say hopeful? He's pretty sure the tattoos have very little to do with it, though -- pretty sure that taking just one look at this guy had made him pretty confident that he's head over heels.

But he's not one to get ahead of himself.

He smiles back, even still, not content to let this opportunity get away from him. Alby can be short on words, sometimes, and now is only slightly different from every time prior -- but he inclines his head a bit, free hand still gripping Newt's side. ]

Hey there.

[ Not exactly stellar -- he figures, if anything, it's best to get the obvious out of the way. Releasing the skinnier boy ( and hoping, praying he doesn't let go of Alby in turn ), he moves to roll up the sleeve of his button down, pulling it up to the bend of his elbow. The ink blends in with his darker skin but it's still there -- Newt's words he'd spoken moments earlier, in a straight line down to his wrist.

Alby holds out his arm, still with the crinkle of a smile resting in the corner of his lips. ]

It's Alby. My name, if you were wonderin'.

[gimp]

[ soulmate. he wouldn't have imagined this happening to him here, on the bloody e train, on his way to his best friend's wedding, but lo, here he is. he's got a downright dazzling smile, for as small as it is, and newt almost feels his knees go out at the sight of it--maybe it's the adrenaline of the moment, but the butterflies in his chest are threatening to burst out of his throat any second now, and he can't keep his own smile from his face as he watches him roll up his sleeve (and wow, hello attractive, muscular arms, but he's not going to say anything about that out loud like other people.)

instead, he lets go of his shoulders, but it's obviously not a permanent thing; a small hand comes up to trace the words, his pale fingers brushing over the phrase that had come out of his mouth not minutes before. his soulmate, his bloody soulmate.

he makes eye contact again with his hand still on his arm, and newt scoffs softly, although it's not at all a rough sound. rather, he lets go again and untucks his button down, lifting the shirt up and his waistband down a little at the same time so he can see the word careful written on his hip in a stark black contrast to pale white skin. ]

Newt. [ he cocks his head, and there's a little bit of flirtatious in his smile. ] Can touch it if you like, too, I won't complain.

[runtcheeks]

[ Alby raises his eyebrows at the suggestion, shaking his head in a well mannered way -- and yet, if Newt's offering, he's definitely not saying no. His eyes are, unabashedly, checking him out as they trail his body, lingering, swelling with something close to affection when he locks onto the single word at his hip.

( Honestly God bless whoever decided to put the tat right there. )

He reaches out to touch it, then, fingers tucked behind Newt's hip while the pad of his thumb traces over the etched letters, prettily black against what seems like impossibly white skin. It seems sentimental for someone he honestly just met, but they're clearly soulmates for a reason, and Alby thinks he gets why. They just work, easily enough. It makes him weirdly happy, like there's understanding in the world -- and color, and happiness, and other really, really lame things he'll never say out loud. ]

It could have been worse. [ He nods, eyes lingering on the tattoo before flickering up to meet Newt, not even considering the idea of bringing his hand away. His skin is too sinfully smooth. ] Newt. Think you've got the better end of the tattoo deal here. Though, mine doesn't seem so bad anymore.

[gimp]

[ the romantic tension in the train is pretty much palpable, and newt wouldn't be surprised if they were getting stares, but he honestly, at the moment, could not care less. the touch to his hip practically sends sparks through him and he watches with half lidded brown eyes, still smiling crookedly, keen gaze on the contrast between them, feeling the adoration of his touch. it's a lot to take in all at once, and quite honestly, newt's resisting the urge to hug him, to kiss him (his mouth looks extremely kissable, has he mentioned that yet? good lord.) or something. ]

Could have been. [ he agrees with him idly, gaze flicking back up to his face, hand still resting on his bicep. ] Just looks like I'm a bloody hipster, yeah? No one ever saw it 'sides my mum and friends at the beach.

[ which is implying a lot more than just "i don't like to take my shirt off", but, well. ] London born and raised.

[ he offers that as an explanation, affection coloring his smile as he rubs his thumbs over the phrase "bloody hell". minho and thomas have ragged on him a million times for saying it too much, which, he guesses he deserves.

minho and thomas--minho, and, oh shit. he glances up at the map for a second--there are maybe three stops left, and newt's struck by the overwhelming urge of how badly he doesn't want to leave, how much more he'd want to stay with this guy, and he blurts out-- ] Are you busy?

[runtcheeks]

[ It's funny, Alby thinks, that he's holding onto just every word that Newt says. He'll always remember the first words, of course, but everything else is so interesting, Alby would consider it a loss if he forgot even the slightest detail. London born and raised, and he finds himself curious, hungry even, for more, to learn everything about this skinny little guy. His likes his dislikes -- he just wants to talk to the guy for the day or, preferably, a good year, learning and outlining all there is to know about Newt.

'Course, then he asks and Alby is sent into the reality that the entire world doesn't actually just revolve around Newt. And by extension Alby -- but mainly Newt. He's gone from being a complete stranger to still a stranger but the center of the entire world -- Alby would scold himself, if he weren't so happy with the direction this day has taken. He blinks up in confusion for a second before shaking his head, clucking his tongue. ]

Just heading home, actually.

[gimp]

[ is he going to sound like an absolute lunatic? probably. but newt's kind of thrilled at the lack of a disappointing answer--he was thinking "I have a meeting" or something else, considering the way the guy's dressed. (and oh, he wants to know--what does he do, why does he live here, what's his favorite color, does he like coffee? newt has a thousand questions and not enough time to ask them all.)

but, still, he lets the hand on his arm drift down to cover the top of his hand, instead. alby's got big hands, especially compared to his own, and his small fingers slip into the cracks between his easily, until just his index finger curls around alby's.

he's touching his bloody soulmate. unbelievable. he wants to remember this moment forever, frame it in a kodak picture, but the next stop dings insistently, and newt is sure he's the one after.

yet, he still hasn't really moved, still all up in his space, and he turns that mischievous, half cocked smile down to him. ] Y'wanna go to a wedding?

[runtcheeks]

[ Alby is all too easy to wrap his index finger back around Newt's, pleased as punch that the guy doesn't seem to really have boundaries -- anyone else would get shoved away, told to back off, but if anything he wants him closer, want to close the distance between them until there's nothing left.

He doesn't do that, though. Not so much because he hardly knows Newt, but because they're on a crowded train, with enough people glancing at them as it is. He pulls the hand at his hip away, tugging down his shirt ( is it strange to be protective of the tattoo, to not want other people to see it, to want to trace it with the tip of his tongue? ) and flattening it with his palm, grinning up at Newt at his question. ]

S'it our wedding?

[ He jokes, twisting his fingers around so he can properly hold Newt's hand, tangling their fingers all with each other -- and content to find that they match up, that Newt's hand is smooth and soft and Alby really isn't looking forward to ever letting it go again. ]

Yeah, I'll go with you.

[gimp]

[ well if he wasn't beaming before, he sure as hell is now, and newt easily allows him to move his hand around, squeezing when he gets a comfortable hold. it's a perfect fit, and there's a strange, warm excitement to every movement, like every touch is giving him shucking butterflies. it feels downright surreal, to be totally honest, and the blonde winks at him, leaning in to murmur just enough for him to hear. ]

Maybe later. [ because, well, the tattoos don't lie--it'll happen. and newt could definitely get used to that, seeing this guy every day, talking to him, kissing him (and doing a lot more than that--he is really, really attractive). it all sounds amazing.

he doesn't get time to be embarrassed or anything about what he said--although newt doesn't fluster that often--because the voice calls off his stop on the intercom. newt doesn't let go of his hand, just cocks his head to lead him off of the train with him and onto the platform. standing next to him off of the uneven surface is even more surreal, and he's struck by the not-so-crazy urge to just lean down and kiss him right there.

instead, he smiles at him, and strokes his thumb over his palm. ] We'll have to share food, I guess. Maybe a seat, too, I dunno how tight Brenda planned the whole thing. Hope you're up for it.

[runtcheeks]

[ Alby likewise beams at Newt, but in his own subdued ways, a smile and an incline of his head -- marrying Newt, even if they met only today, definitely seems like a path worth pursuing. Grabbing his suitcase, he follows Newt onto the platform, elbowing his way past the business suits, because he's not going to let go of this guy's hand for all the money in the universe.

Holding hands, looking at the opposite trail rail, it all seems pretty funny to Alby. That suddenly it's like there's no more romantic place in the world than a dirty, underground station, standing with who very well might be the most attractive person Alby has ever laid eyes on. He'll have to thank choose your deity from on high for -- well, for blessing him with Newt. Soul mates aren't so silly anymore, if believing in them also means he gets to stay by Newt for the rest of forever. ]

They won't mind me showing up? [ He questions, tilting his head towards Newt, setting them off on getting off the platform. Of course, he doesn't know where they're headed after that -- another something that's pretty funny to Alby -- but it feels natural for him to be the leader, while the opportunity presents itself. ]

Could just wait for you, if it's a problem.

[gimp]

[ newt's quiet for a second as he thinks about it--thinks about thomas, bless his heart, and how he just wants people to happy. he's always bumping newt whenever he hears someone call out the word on his tattoo, even if it's just a mother to her child, and for as often as newt scoffs at it (affectionately, but still), he appreciates it. so his smile's warm as he shakes his head, pulling the collar of his coat up around his fancy suit. ] Nah, won't mind at all.

Two guys gettin' married, my two best friends. [ he walks happily beside alby, finding it perfectly easy to match their pace--newt was worried about his limp, because it's far more pronounced when it's them alone than on a crowded train where all he has to do is stand, but so far, he hasn't run away screaming and newt'll take that as a win.

he'll take a lot of things as a win, actually, because the subway station smells like the wrong end of a loo and his leg hurts like hell preemptively from all the walking they're going to have to do, and he literally could not care. color him lovestruck, his soulmate's holding his hand, walking with him, looking absurdly handsome and perfect and everything he wanted and so much more.

...right, he's supposed to be talking about thomas and minho. ] Two great gents, soulmates, all that stuff. They're gonna be married till they both get old and Tommy'll still be makin' doe eyes at him from the grave.

[ the last thing he says makes him pause though, and newt stops walking, a little outside the turnstiles, turning so he's facing alby--he reaches over and covers his other hand, the one holding the briefcase, and looks at him as seriously as he can. ] Waited long enough, don't ya think?