New Year's Eve Soiree

[sandsofchaos]

Jennifer had put in extra overtime for this - though Set himself had arranged the servers, made of sand and storm - but the stage was set. The glossy black bar was stocked fully with any kind of alcohol you could ever desire, including a selection of Egyptian microbrews. To the right of it, the dessert bar - staffed by two lithe, sloe-eyed girls - has any sweet you might desire, from a chocolate fountain to creme brulee to a dense raspberry torte.

There are the low couches by the windows, where the waiters pass with French champagne and canapes regularly, and for those who don't mind the chill, there are the vast decks just outside, where you can appreciate the sight of New York on this night, or...possibly find some privacy for that New Year's kiss.

Comments

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede was standing on the edge of the deck, leaning against the railing as held a glass of champagne with a single sugar cube in the bottom, being dissolved by the glittering effervescence.

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

Hyacinthe was pitifully drunk by the time he gets to Ganymede, throwing himself down on the sofa beside him and immediately resting his head on the cup-bearer's thigh.

[the_cupbearer]

He's momentarily surprised at the youth that comes to rest beside him so quickly, but reaches down and tangles his fingers in Hyacinthe's hair gently, pulling them through it lazily.

"You're affectionate," he notes.

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

"Warm." Hyacinthe replies, nuzzling against Ganymede's belly. "And it's quiet out here." He adds, holding his glass to his chest like a child with a toy.

[the_cupbearer]

"It is indeed quiet."

He brushes his fingers against the youth's cheek. "You look upset, princeling."

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

"I'm...I'm really, really drunk." Hyacinthe mumbled into Ganymede's body. He rolled one eye upward. "Do you...have anything? The ouzo isn't cutting it."

[the_cupbearer]

"I have champagne, but that's all," he chuckles, sinking down to sit with Hyacinthe. "Why do you want to be more drunk?"

Ganymede doesn't really enjoy the feeling of being drunk, at least not with people he doesn't trust; there are places he'll tolerate it, though.

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

"Calm my nerves." Hyacinthe replied, nestling close to the cup-bearer. "Thinking about too many things, I need to stop."

[the_cupbearer]

"There are better ways to do that than drink," Ganymede says, setting aside the champagne flute.

"What is on your mind?"

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

"Nothing." Hyacinthe says, embarrassed when Ganymede admonishes him. "I...I just never feel right at these parties. I'm dressed cheaply and I'm alone and I feel like I spend more time avoiding people-- deities-- than socializing."

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede lifts Hyacinthe's hand and kisses the back of his wrist, tugging him to stand in the circle of his arms. "You are not dressed cheaply, lovely princeling. Nor are you alone. Perhaps you would feel more right if you had company?"

Yes, that is an offer, but Ganymede can't say he never feels what Hyacinthe is describing; in fact he feels it almost constantly but he's learned to hide it well.

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

Hyacinthe curls into Ganymede's shoulder, the same way he did at the photoshoot, hiding his face, the half-drained glass of ouzo crushed between them.

"I feel I ask for your company too often, cup-bearer." He sighed, unsteady on his feet. "But...you are the only one who might understand." He whimpers.

[the_cupbearer]

"Do not fret so. It will resolve, Hyacinthe."

He lays his cheek against Hyacinthe's, arms wound around his waist. "Soon it will be a new year."

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

He sighed and let Ganymede hold him gratefully. He wasn't sure he could make his feet work properly to move him anywhere else anyway.

"It will be." He nuzzled Ganyemede's throat. "What do you plan to do with it, cup-bearer?"

[the_cupbearer]

"I imagine much the same as I do with any other," he says, looking up to the sky. "Live."

[lovedoftwogods.livejournal.com]

"Such a noble, poet aspiration." Hyacinthe remarked dryly. "Are you doing well in keeping it?" He asks, one arm kneading thoughtfully at Ganymede's hip. Kneading or struggling to find purchase, it was a little unclear.