William Lawedre (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goldenlawedre) wrote2011-08-26 12:42 am
goldenlawedre) wrote2011-08-26 12:42 am
Entry tags:
Pettifoggers and Fedora Hats
William cradled a few heavy books to his chest with an arm as he walked across campus, whistling nothings in between drags from a cigarette he dangled in his free hand. With a few flicks of his fingers, he knocked the ash from its end, only then adjusting the black fedora atop his head. Couldn’t have any of that burning holes in his favorite hat. His only hat, for that matter. The beginnings of another jaunty something left his lips, the cigarette posed just before them. The tune only halted when, once again, the spongy end of the cigarette was brought to his lips for languorous puffs of smoke that curled into the air.
It was a bit strange, walking around with a Capstan perched between his fingers. He so often sat when he smoked, a gin martini or 7 and 7 in hand and the cigarette left smouldering over an ashtray in the Ganymede club. It felt odd to carry it about, to not have the smoke chasing the taste of liquor in his mouth. End of term exams, however, had put a considerable lot of stress on his mind, and he found himself gasping for the nicotine. Eager for the buzz, he sucked at his Capstan and blew away the smoke with another whistle.
Jarringly sharp against his bit of melody were footsteps behind him, but William gave no care for their purposeful clicks. At least... not until his hat was unexpectedly thieved from his head. He stopped walking to throw a pouted look over his shoulder, met with the low and callous laugh that deepened his frown.
“I don’t even have to say it any more.”
“No, but I don’t care if you look better in it. Give the hat here, Richard.”
“Come now, William. That’s no way to ask for something you want.”
“Says the pettifogger who took my hat.”
“You’re just too damned easy.”
Richard Hart strode up next to him, passing the fedora between his hands, his lips already turning upward. William took a faux-complacent draw from his cigarette as Richard made a show of putting the fedora atop his own head, tilted fashionably and smugly over half his face. Beneath its brim, the spill of dark hair framed his cheekbones and despite its shadows, made Richard's eyes seem to glint with mischief. He hardly looked anything less, in all the times William spared him a glance; it was something the younger came to expect, a lingering, a glint of a permanent chuckle behind those dark eyes.
“It’s not so difficult to nick a hat from someone,” William quipped as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth, the smoke billowing over his words.
“Isn’t it? Go on then.”
Damn that goading smile. William shifted his books and put the smoke in his mouth again, freeing one of his hands to take a swipe toward his beloved hat in Richard’s possession. A swipe Richard seized quickly and held long enough to pluck away William’s vice from between his teeth. Richard had firm grip on William's wrist, and he was helpless to the thievery of the Capstan, snatched from between his fingers.
In trying to extract his hand, William twisted a bit too quickly and the hip that had balanced the books suddenly gave them no support. They slipped from his arms and tumbled atop each other onto the path, some of the pages crinkling under the weight of the spine thrust open by the topple. Richard laughed. As William bent, muttering, to pick up his books, Richard puffed away and squeezed his dear friend's shoulder. While William's gaze remained on his mess of textbooks, he could feel the grin coming to swarm Richard's face. As much as he would have loved to wipe that look from him, he wouldn't dare. A deeply buried yet honest part of him could not deny that he enjoyed the way Richard leaned to him for a smirk and moment to tease.
“I’d say you were letting me have a bit of fun if I didn’t know you all that well.”
The sort of grin Richard Hart flashed when he teased William was far too similar to another, another that when his eyes were a bit more lidded and his lips looked the same...meant sinful little things William’s mind deplorably went to. Every jab might as well have been a seduction.
When he swiped for his hat again, Richard let him.
William replaced it atop his head, snugging it over his wildly unkempt mop of blond hair. His triumph--and well deserved revenge--came with a swift elbow to Richard’s ribs, earning him a grunt and a laugh. It wasn't meant to be damaging and was well worth the infuriating quirk of an eyebrow as his older seemed to appraise him with the flick of an eye. It occurred belatedly to him that he might be able to take his cigarette back when Richard eased up from his bend, the smoke between his teeth given the darting attentions of a tongue to prevent its fall to the pavement. William licked his lips, Richard watched. Eyes cool. An unspoken curiosity was communicated, one that soon left William clutching his books and looking for a way to shake it. Derisively, he snorted and refocused himself on walking, regaining the whistle he’d been shaping to put a tune in the air once more. Eyes straight ahead, he could still catch Richard’s lingering gaze and the the short puffs he stole.
“Library?”
“No, I felt like carrying the damned library with me. Can’t you tell?”
Richard laughed.
It was a bit strange, walking around with a Capstan perched between his fingers. He so often sat when he smoked, a gin martini or 7 and 7 in hand and the cigarette left smouldering over an ashtray in the Ganymede club. It felt odd to carry it about, to not have the smoke chasing the taste of liquor in his mouth. End of term exams, however, had put a considerable lot of stress on his mind, and he found himself gasping for the nicotine. Eager for the buzz, he sucked at his Capstan and blew away the smoke with another whistle.
Jarringly sharp against his bit of melody were footsteps behind him, but William gave no care for their purposeful clicks. At least... not until his hat was unexpectedly thieved from his head. He stopped walking to throw a pouted look over his shoulder, met with the low and callous laugh that deepened his frown.
“I don’t even have to say it any more.”
“No, but I don’t care if you look better in it. Give the hat here, Richard.”
“Come now, William. That’s no way to ask for something you want.”
“Says the pettifogger who took my hat.”
“You’re just too damned easy.”
Richard Hart strode up next to him, passing the fedora between his hands, his lips already turning upward. William took a faux-complacent draw from his cigarette as Richard made a show of putting the fedora atop his own head, tilted fashionably and smugly over half his face. Beneath its brim, the spill of dark hair framed his cheekbones and despite its shadows, made Richard's eyes seem to glint with mischief. He hardly looked anything less, in all the times William spared him a glance; it was something the younger came to expect, a lingering, a glint of a permanent chuckle behind those dark eyes.
“It’s not so difficult to nick a hat from someone,” William quipped as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth, the smoke billowing over his words.
“Isn’t it? Go on then.”
Damn that goading smile. William shifted his books and put the smoke in his mouth again, freeing one of his hands to take a swipe toward his beloved hat in Richard’s possession. A swipe Richard seized quickly and held long enough to pluck away William’s vice from between his teeth. Richard had firm grip on William's wrist, and he was helpless to the thievery of the Capstan, snatched from between his fingers.
In trying to extract his hand, William twisted a bit too quickly and the hip that had balanced the books suddenly gave them no support. They slipped from his arms and tumbled atop each other onto the path, some of the pages crinkling under the weight of the spine thrust open by the topple. Richard laughed. As William bent, muttering, to pick up his books, Richard puffed away and squeezed his dear friend's shoulder. While William's gaze remained on his mess of textbooks, he could feel the grin coming to swarm Richard's face. As much as he would have loved to wipe that look from him, he wouldn't dare. A deeply buried yet honest part of him could not deny that he enjoyed the way Richard leaned to him for a smirk and moment to tease.
“I’d say you were letting me have a bit of fun if I didn’t know you all that well.”
The sort of grin Richard Hart flashed when he teased William was far too similar to another, another that when his eyes were a bit more lidded and his lips looked the same...meant sinful little things William’s mind deplorably went to. Every jab might as well have been a seduction.
When he swiped for his hat again, Richard let him.
William replaced it atop his head, snugging it over his wildly unkempt mop of blond hair. His triumph--and well deserved revenge--came with a swift elbow to Richard’s ribs, earning him a grunt and a laugh. It wasn't meant to be damaging and was well worth the infuriating quirk of an eyebrow as his older seemed to appraise him with the flick of an eye. It occurred belatedly to him that he might be able to take his cigarette back when Richard eased up from his bend, the smoke between his teeth given the darting attentions of a tongue to prevent its fall to the pavement. William licked his lips, Richard watched. Eyes cool. An unspoken curiosity was communicated, one that soon left William clutching his books and looking for a way to shake it. Derisively, he snorted and refocused himself on walking, regaining the whistle he’d been shaping to put a tune in the air once more. Eyes straight ahead, he could still catch Richard’s lingering gaze and the the short puffs he stole.
“Library?”
“No, I felt like carrying the damned library with me. Can’t you tell?”
Richard laughed.