Colors of Love

Two

Part of the young, aspiring bassist wasn't surprised by the slightly better-than-grungy apartment he was taken to, but another part'd hoped his mate'd be living better than this. Then again, he supposed he shouldn't have expected quite so much for a musician whose band only had one album out, and said album certainly coulda done better than what it had thus far. Maybe he shouldn't have set the bar quite so high, especially when one remembered that Nikki was only twenty-four on top of it.

        Tossing his keys on top of the TV that Dominated the tiny living room, the bassist gestured for him to follow him as he started down a short hallway. He couldn't help the grimace he was forced to hide behind his hair as he stepped over–and very possibly in–piles of garbage and hell-only-knew what else. After seeing the shape of the living room, he certainly wasn't expecting any better in whatever room the Neko was leading him to.

        Naturally, Bobby was more than a bit surprised by the bedroom he walked into, and how it was actually relatively clean, compared to the rest of the apartment. It wasn't good enough to suit a clean-freak or other germophobe by any means–there was plenty of clutter, trash, and dirty clothes scattered around–but it looked a helluva lot better than what he'd seen up to this point. Maybe that was the Cat in his mate, considering how Cats were notoriously clean for the most part, which'd make total sense. He prolly didn't like his Space being quite as filthy as the rest of the place, which was obviously shared with at least one other person unless this Neko was just some kinda hoarder.

        Flopping across the bed shoved into one corner, Nikki stretched out his insanely long legs and kicked off his boots at its foot. Only then did he roll onto his side and prop his head in one hand, ears twitching as he shot him a grin and motioned for him to c'mon into the room. He responded with a Silent nod as he managed to close the door, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable since he knew they were mated. Would the Neko be willing to wait till he was ready to do anything with him, or would he be pushy about trying to get only one thing outta him, which he wasn't ready to give yet?

        "I know it's kinda messy in here, but nothing's gonna bitecha," he chuckled from where he lounged on his bed. "Well, not unless ya count me, that is–but I don't bite without some begging and pleading."

        Bobby couldn't help a laugh as he finally made his way over to the bed. "Well, mates or no, I don't tend to make a habit of sleeping with someone the first Time I meet them–not unless I'm on the verge of going into heat, anywhore."

        "Anywhore? I like it," the bassist laughed. "And I'm sure, even in heat, ya don't let other guys fuck ya."

        "Hell, no," he answered, shaking his head as he sat down to kick his own boots off. "I'm not letting just anyone shove something into me, knowing it's more likely to hurt at first than it isn't."

        "Hey, fair enough," Nikki told him. "Liar though I can be sometimes, I can't say I'd have much different a mindset, if I were in your shoes."

        "At least we can agree on that, if nothing else," the young, aspiring bassist responded.

        "I gotta ask, though–where the hell're ya from?" he asked curiously. "Your accent's no more native to the Los Angeles area than mine."

        "That's a good question, 'cuz it depends on who ya ask." Bobby couldn't help a chuckle. "Far as I'm concerned, I'm from Miami."

        Cocking a brow curiously, the bassist gave him a look that screamed he wanted him to continue, and he made a deal with him. The only way he was gonna keep going, considering some of the painful details, was if he reciprocated by answering the same questions. It was pretty obvious that he didn't wanna, but he finally heaved a sigh and agreed to his terms, 'cuz he really wanted to know.