The two of them have apparently known each other for a long time; Sephiroth has gathered that it's nearly their entire lives. This shows most blatantly in how easily Angeal can distract and convince Genesis of things, sometimes, because he certainly knows well enough what Genesis likes. The redhead pauses, gaze sharpening as he considers the mental image of Angeal always waiting for him at their home, work not distracting the two of them nearly as much. A pleased smile crosses his face, and he presses a palm along the curve of Angeal's jaw to pull in another kiss for himself. "Throw in only your apron, and I wouldn't mind that deal at all."
"Are you referring to the apron that says king of sausage?" Sephiroth asks, remembering the occasions he's been able to visit the Hewley-Rhapsodos (aka Rhapsodos-Hewley) residence, named depending on whoever'd won the latest poker match.
"Yes," Angeal says with absolutely zero hesitation.
"Absolutely not," Genesis replies, hand moving to the back of Angeal's head so that he can tug at his hair a bit. "I really am going to find that thing and burn it to ashes, until not even the memory is left. Where on earth did you ever get it?"
"We've gone over this, Gen. You bought it for me. When you were drunk. We never get drunk, how could I throw away a memory of such a rare and precious occasion?"
Genesis swears in Banoran, the language once eloquent and now twisted crassly on his tongue, and Angeal gets another few bite marks along his neck for good measure. This is not a particularly new occurrence, especially with how much Angeal seems to enjoy it. With how easily the two of them seem to heal up, probably there's a point to him constantly encouraging Genesis's teeth.
Of course, with reoccurrence comes experience, and Angeal is still perfectly in control of his faculties as he gives a side glance over to Sephiroth. "So how's the wine tonight?" he asks, as if he and Gen don't pay attention to little details like this.
It's fine, of course, and they both know it. Sephiroth finishes off his latest sip before putting the glass back onto its tray. "Genesis has good taste in his choices," he says, because he knows that it pleases Genesis to hear such things. Sure enough, where his hands are tugging impatiently at Angeal's shirt and his mouth is still stubbornly working a mark into his skin, a low purr starts to sink into tender flesh. But that's not really what's been gently inquired of him, and they both know it. Shifting onto one knee, Sephiroth settles his hand along Angeal's side. "Try for yourself."
Maybe it's because of the prior subject matter, but they somehow manage to keep each other from going more than just one round all together. That's nearly a record, honestly. With how demanding Genesis can get, he often demands a round from Angeal and him each when he has the good fortune of having them both together.
But they're both busy men, and Genesis is a bit far from his own portion of territory that the two have split together. It will take a bit of time, if nothing else, to get back, and clearly he's going to plan for quite a bit just for Angeal bringing up the idea of retirement. "You really do make things so busy for me," Genesis says with a click of his tongue, doing the belt around his hips once again so that he looks vaguely presentable. Or, at the least, so that he won't lose an expensive belt from carelessness. The aesthetic is everything, when it comes to Genesis.
Angeal's clothes have always been a bit more simple: simple no-nonsense pants that blood washes off of easily enough, a tank top that does a good enough job at hiding his piercings, and a open vest that shows off the simple chain necklace there from his neck. Sephiroth has seen him use it as impromptu knuckledusters, when it's been prudent.
That means as Genesis struggles with something with far too many belts, Angeal is free to help Sephiroth with his own mildly complicated outfit, black and skintight, meant to show off his body. This isn't the first time he's helped; Sephiroth can't help but wonder when the last time will be. "How's that?" he asks, once he's tugged some rather troublesome material down into place a little bit better.
It's not even the most uncomfortable position or outfit that Sephiroth's ever been in, but he knows that Angeal gets annoyed if people are uncomfortable and don't tell him. "It should do well enough until I can change," he says, after a slight moment of thought.
Considering that he was the one to choose these clothes at Genesis's encouragement - something properly chosen by himself for himself instead of just the same old wear governed by others for their own reasons - it almost feels a bit foolish to make any complaints on minor things. He suspects that Angeal has an idea of that sort of thinking, but he doesn't say anything about it. There's just a faint quirk of his eyebrow before he steps back. "If you say so. Gen, are you ready yet?"
Genesis pushes his hair back with the heel of his palm, making it look artfully messy instead of where their fingers had been gripping tightly to pull him around. "You cannot rush greatness," he drawls. "But yes, shall we?"
The three of them don't really have a chance to go very far. Or, rather, it's more that Angeal doesn't have a chance to go very far. Which is sort of amusing in its own right, of course, because the three of them had made a beeline ("Ha" had come out of Angeal's mouth before Genesis's fist had landed somewhere in his kidneys) straight for the employee backrooms. With Angeal and Genesis being the names that they are in the lower plates, it's just a less bothersome route. For Angeal especially, with how this is all his territory.
Normally it's less bothersome. Tonight, the second that they make it past all the janitorial equipment that is meant to bore people from venturing any further if they aren't supposed to be here... There is a small platoon of flashily dressed people swarming all around them.
Sephiroth recognizes just about all of them, of course: Honeybee dancers and hostesses still done up to the nines, a few bartenders out of uniform that are normally scattered about Wall Market, various other sex workers who can be found wherever it might be easiest to listen in on something or get a job for the night. He's talked with some of them, but not often. Being unapproachable is still something of a problem with him, it seems... Regardless, he's made sure to know at least most of their faces, even if knowing all their names would be a challenge for anyone.
Much easier to know, on account of all the yelling, is how worked up everyone is.
"What if we start getting ShinRa lackeys busting our balls!?"
"Can I have your job if you don't want it-"
"Dev, shut up you idiot-"
"Is Genesis going to be the new boss!? Please say it's not Genesis-"
Throughout the entire time that the small mob has descended on them, Sephiroth has been taking pains to carefully help move Genesis along the wall and out of the way, even if the redhead has been doing his best to peer over his shoulder for his own entertainment. However, his far-too keen hearing manages to pick up on that last line, and he immediately perks up past Sephiroth's arms. "Hey. How dare you-"
Sephiroth manages to catch Angeal's gaze, in all of this, from where the man looks like he might drown from the force of everyone crowding around him. All he needs is for Angeal to raise his eyebrows pointedly, and Sephiroth moves wordlessly along with what's been asked of him.
His hands aren't exactly soundproof material, but they do well enough for their purposes right now. They've just settled over Genesis's ears when Angeal reaches up, fingers in his mouth for a sharp whistle that cuts through all the clamor. Genesis still wrinkles his nose, of course, and that's better than the alternative. "Calm down," Angeal says with a sigh, as everyone falls quietly obediently enough. "First of all, yes, Genesis is taking over Wall Market. We talked about how first order of business is making you all wear red uniforms."
"Oh, fuck off," Genesis and someone else from within the throng say at the exact same time. Someone had already cackled at one of Angeal's terrible bald-faced lies, but that gets even more laughter.
There's a bit of a grin on Angeal's face before he adjusts his stance, one hand on his hip as he surveys the motley group in front of him. Sephiroth can see the gears turning in his head on just how he should handle this whole mess. No doubt he'd wanted to keep this at least a little more on the down low... But loose lips can cause all sorts of havoc. "Alright, so all I did was think out loud about retiring some time in the future," he decides at last. "I am not retiring right this second or even this year. Try not to spin that in the worst possible light. I'll make a proper announcement..." He rolls his neck a bit, considering that. "In a couple of days. Just so that you can all stop spreading rumors. That's all, so can I walk out of a building unaccosted?"
Having a clear plan of action seems to be enough of a toll to indeed let him pass through without anymore problems. Genesis teases him about it and laughs all the way to the train station, seeming to have exchanged a needle towards himself for some entertainment on watching Angeal be bothered by his own people.
That just leaves the two of them, in the end, as many nights often seem to pass in Wall Market. Sephiroth doesn't mind. He's come to find a kind of serenity in the eternal night that rests down here. Maybe he should miss the sight of the sky more. The fresh air not bogged down by smoke and oil and too many things to name. A daytime that ends, instead of being neverending neon that one only finds respite from in forgotten alleys and apartments with all the blinds shut.
Sephiroth still likes it. Better than what he had before, which felt more restrictive than miles of metal there up above his head. Here, even if he's still unapproachable, there are still people who say his name with a smile. The work he does is pleasurable in his own way, and he gets to make choices for things for himself.
The clothes he wears. The places he goes, down here in Wall Market. The food he'll decide to eat tonight for dinner, whether that's something from a restaurant or a recipe he tries to carefully follow from Angeal's handwriting.
Maybe they're still limited, in many ways, from what he does for a living now... But he's come to learn that might just be how it is to live as an individual restricted to one's own body. Considering that he once never felt as though he would have much freedom to do anything, even this much is on occasion overwhelming.
Of course, for what seems overwhelming and more than enough to him is often something that others disagree on. It always seems as though they're giving him more and more, even after all these years.
Angeal proves that much, as the two of them step up towards the plainly labeled 'HQ' of Wall Market which doubles as a place for Angeal to stay at on occasion when he doesn't want to make his own short trip home. "So, what do you think?" he asks him, as they pass by the guards keeping things in order around the place and up the steps. "About the idea of me retiring."
With how much he's been talking about it, Sephiroth has to admit that he didn't think Angeal would want to talk more about it, and he blinks. "Well, I can see where your reasoning came from," he answers as they shut the double doors behind them, heading straight for the master suite tucked away deep inside the manor. "You explained it all clearly enough. Running territory like this is no small feat, and I imagine the extent of it was not something you and Genesis could have truly known when you first came down here. Whether it is a vacation or retirement, I can understand why you would want to step away from it."
And that's just how it is, isn't it? There aren't any flaws in Angeal's logic. If he's having problems, then he's having problems with the role. Just like Sephiroth is allowed to choose things for himself, so is Angeal... and he has faith in Angeal making sure to leave behind as little a mess as possible.
Opening the door to his room, Angeal looks over his shoulder with one of those faint and far too serious frowns of his. "Not like that. I meant... Personally. Do you, Sephiroth RH, like or not like the idea of me retiring?"
no subject
"Are you referring to the apron that says king of sausage?" Sephiroth asks, remembering the occasions he's been able to visit the Hewley-Rhapsodos (aka Rhapsodos-Hewley) residence, named depending on whoever'd won the latest poker match.
"Yes," Angeal says with absolutely zero hesitation.
"Absolutely not," Genesis replies, hand moving to the back of Angeal's head so that he can tug at his hair a bit. "I really am going to find that thing and burn it to ashes, until not even the memory is left. Where on earth did you ever get it?"
"We've gone over this, Gen. You bought it for me. When you were drunk. We never get drunk, how could I throw away a memory of such a rare and precious occasion?"
Genesis swears in Banoran, the language once eloquent and now twisted crassly on his tongue, and Angeal gets another few bite marks along his neck for good measure. This is not a particularly new occurrence, especially with how much Angeal seems to enjoy it. With how easily the two of them seem to heal up, probably there's a point to him constantly encouraging Genesis's teeth.
Of course, with reoccurrence comes experience, and Angeal is still perfectly in control of his faculties as he gives a side glance over to Sephiroth. "So how's the wine tonight?" he asks, as if he and Gen don't pay attention to little details like this.
It's fine, of course, and they both know it. Sephiroth finishes off his latest sip before putting the glass back onto its tray. "Genesis has good taste in his choices," he says, because he knows that it pleases Genesis to hear such things. Sure enough, where his hands are tugging impatiently at Angeal's shirt and his mouth is still stubbornly working a mark into his skin, a low purr starts to sink into tender flesh. But that's not really what's been gently inquired of him, and they both know it. Shifting onto one knee, Sephiroth settles his hand along Angeal's side. "Try for yourself."
Maybe it's because of the prior subject matter, but they somehow manage to keep each other from going more than just one round all together. That's nearly a record, honestly. With how demanding Genesis can get, he often demands a round from Angeal and him each when he has the good fortune of having them both together.
But they're both busy men, and Genesis is a bit far from his own portion of territory that the two have split together. It will take a bit of time, if nothing else, to get back, and clearly he's going to plan for quite a bit just for Angeal bringing up the idea of retirement. "You really do make things so busy for me," Genesis says with a click of his tongue, doing the belt around his hips once again so that he looks vaguely presentable. Or, at the least, so that he won't lose an expensive belt from carelessness. The aesthetic is everything, when it comes to Genesis.
Angeal's clothes have always been a bit more simple: simple no-nonsense pants that blood washes off of easily enough, a tank top that does a good enough job at hiding his piercings, and a open vest that shows off the simple chain necklace there from his neck. Sephiroth has seen him use it as impromptu knuckledusters, when it's been prudent.
That means as Genesis struggles with something with far too many belts, Angeal is free to help Sephiroth with his own mildly complicated outfit, black and skintight, meant to show off his body. This isn't the first time he's helped; Sephiroth can't help but wonder when the last time will be. "How's that?" he asks, once he's tugged some rather troublesome material down into place a little bit better.
It's not even the most uncomfortable position or outfit that Sephiroth's ever been in, but he knows that Angeal gets annoyed if people are uncomfortable and don't tell him. "It should do well enough until I can change," he says, after a slight moment of thought.
Considering that he was the one to choose these clothes at Genesis's encouragement - something properly chosen by himself for himself instead of just the same old wear governed by others for their own reasons - it almost feels a bit foolish to make any complaints on minor things. He suspects that Angeal has an idea of that sort of thinking, but he doesn't say anything about it. There's just a faint quirk of his eyebrow before he steps back. "If you say so. Gen, are you ready yet?"
Genesis pushes his hair back with the heel of his palm, making it look artfully messy instead of where their fingers had been gripping tightly to pull him around. "You cannot rush greatness," he drawls. "But yes, shall we?"
The three of them don't really have a chance to go very far. Or, rather, it's more that Angeal doesn't have a chance to go very far. Which is sort of amusing in its own right, of course, because the three of them had made a beeline ("Ha" had come out of Angeal's mouth before Genesis's fist had landed somewhere in his kidneys) straight for the employee backrooms. With Angeal and Genesis being the names that they are in the lower plates, it's just a less bothersome route. For Angeal especially, with how this is all his territory.
Normally it's less bothersome. Tonight, the second that they make it past all the janitorial equipment that is meant to bore people from venturing any further if they aren't supposed to be here... There is a small platoon of flashily dressed people swarming all around them.
Sephiroth recognizes just about all of them, of course: Honeybee dancers and hostesses still done up to the nines, a few bartenders out of uniform that are normally scattered about Wall Market, various other sex workers who can be found wherever it might be easiest to listen in on something or get a job for the night. He's talked with some of them, but not often. Being unapproachable is still something of a problem with him, it seems... Regardless, he's made sure to know at least most of their faces, even if knowing all their names would be a challenge for anyone.
Much easier to know, on account of all the yelling, is how worked up everyone is.
"What if we start getting ShinRa lackeys busting our balls!?"
"Can I have your job if you don't want it-"
"Dev, shut up you idiot-"
"Is Genesis going to be the new boss!? Please say it's not Genesis-"
Throughout the entire time that the small mob has descended on them, Sephiroth has been taking pains to carefully help move Genesis along the wall and out of the way, even if the redhead has been doing his best to peer over his shoulder for his own entertainment. However, his far-too keen hearing manages to pick up on that last line, and he immediately perks up past Sephiroth's arms. "Hey. How dare you-"
Sephiroth manages to catch Angeal's gaze, in all of this, from where the man looks like he might drown from the force of everyone crowding around him. All he needs is for Angeal to raise his eyebrows pointedly, and Sephiroth moves wordlessly along with what's been asked of him.
His hands aren't exactly soundproof material, but they do well enough for their purposes right now. They've just settled over Genesis's ears when Angeal reaches up, fingers in his mouth for a sharp whistle that cuts through all the clamor. Genesis still wrinkles his nose, of course, and that's better than the alternative. "Calm down," Angeal says with a sigh, as everyone falls quietly obediently enough. "First of all, yes, Genesis is taking over Wall Market. We talked about how first order of business is making you all wear red uniforms."
"Oh, fuck off," Genesis and someone else from within the throng say at the exact same time. Someone had already cackled at one of Angeal's terrible bald-faced lies, but that gets even more laughter.
There's a bit of a grin on Angeal's face before he adjusts his stance, one hand on his hip as he surveys the motley group in front of him. Sephiroth can see the gears turning in his head on just how he should handle this whole mess. No doubt he'd wanted to keep this at least a little more on the down low... But loose lips can cause all sorts of havoc. "Alright, so all I did was think out loud about retiring some time in the future," he decides at last. "I am not retiring right this second or even this year. Try not to spin that in the worst possible light. I'll make a proper announcement..." He rolls his neck a bit, considering that. "In a couple of days. Just so that you can all stop spreading rumors. That's all, so can I walk out of a building unaccosted?"
Having a clear plan of action seems to be enough of a toll to indeed let him pass through without anymore problems. Genesis teases him about it and laughs all the way to the train station, seeming to have exchanged a needle towards himself for some entertainment on watching Angeal be bothered by his own people.
That just leaves the two of them, in the end, as many nights often seem to pass in Wall Market. Sephiroth doesn't mind. He's come to find a kind of serenity in the eternal night that rests down here. Maybe he should miss the sight of the sky more. The fresh air not bogged down by smoke and oil and too many things to name. A daytime that ends, instead of being neverending neon that one only finds respite from in forgotten alleys and apartments with all the blinds shut.
Sephiroth still likes it. Better than what he had before, which felt more restrictive than miles of metal there up above his head. Here, even if he's still unapproachable, there are still people who say his name with a smile. The work he does is pleasurable in his own way, and he gets to make choices for things for himself.
The clothes he wears. The places he goes, down here in Wall Market. The food he'll decide to eat tonight for dinner, whether that's something from a restaurant or a recipe he tries to carefully follow from Angeal's handwriting.
Maybe they're still limited, in many ways, from what he does for a living now... But he's come to learn that might just be how it is to live as an individual restricted to one's own body. Considering that he once never felt as though he would have much freedom to do anything, even this much is on occasion overwhelming.
Of course, for what seems overwhelming and more than enough to him is often something that others disagree on. It always seems as though they're giving him more and more, even after all these years.
Angeal proves that much, as the two of them step up towards the plainly labeled 'HQ' of Wall Market which doubles as a place for Angeal to stay at on occasion when he doesn't want to make his own short trip home. "So, what do you think?" he asks him, as they pass by the guards keeping things in order around the place and up the steps. "About the idea of me retiring."
With how much he's been talking about it, Sephiroth has to admit that he didn't think Angeal would want to talk more about it, and he blinks. "Well, I can see where your reasoning came from," he answers as they shut the double doors behind them, heading straight for the master suite tucked away deep inside the manor. "You explained it all clearly enough. Running territory like this is no small feat, and I imagine the extent of it was not something you and Genesis could have truly known when you first came down here. Whether it is a vacation or retirement, I can understand why you would want to step away from it."
And that's just how it is, isn't it? There aren't any flaws in Angeal's logic. If he's having problems, then he's having problems with the role. Just like Sephiroth is allowed to choose things for himself, so is Angeal... and he has faith in Angeal making sure to leave behind as little a mess as possible.
Opening the door to his room, Angeal looks over his shoulder with one of those faint and far too serious frowns of his. "Not like that. I meant... Personally. Do you, Sephiroth RH, like or not like the idea of me retiring?"