Oswald Wuthridge (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ossie_oswald) wrote2022-06-14 07:18 pm
ossie_oswald) wrote2022-06-14 07:18 pm
Entry tags:
Come Sail Away Inbox
"Send me a kiss by wire~"
"Mmmm, well. Grief's a little funny. Even when you sort of figure it out after the first time, it all seems to go out of the window when it swings around again."
He swirls a spoon in his tea. "I don't know, it's just... there all the time? Some days are worse than others. You just gotta live. Y'know, Rita and I talked about what to do if something happened to either of us that left the other one behind, but I didn't think it'd be like this." He gestures vaguely. "All that stuff about hospice, wills, life support... I guess I don't have to worry about that now. There really isn't anything I can do. Except remarry, but."
He shrugs with one shoulder, looking not all that excited about the idea.
He swirls a spoon in his tea. "I don't know, it's just... there all the time? Some days are worse than others. You just gotta live. Y'know, Rita and I talked about what to do if something happened to either of us that left the other one behind, but I didn't think it'd be like this." He gestures vaguely. "All that stuff about hospice, wills, life support... I guess I don't have to worry about that now. There really isn't anything I can do. Except remarry, but."
He shrugs with one shoulder, looking not all that excited about the idea.
"This is perhaps an obvious question, but... Do you want to?"
Ossie tilts his head a little, as if to stress it.
"There are plenty of widows and er's who choose not to remarry, you know, even if it is allowed and all that. You needn't be alone, of course, but you understand that it isn't a requirement, yes?"
Ossie tilts his head a little, as if to stress it.
"There are plenty of widows and er's who choose not to remarry, you know, even if it is allowed and all that. You needn't be alone, of course, but you understand that it isn't a requirement, yes?"
A soft laugh. "Of course I do. I know it's my choice if I do or not, but whatever the case, I also know I have Rita's permission."
A beat. "Do I want to remarry? Not really. At least not right now. It's... I think I still think about her too much for it to be fair to anyone else, and my life isn't exactly, well--stable enough at the moment for me to imagine it, especially given that I haven't been interested in anyone in that way. Of course there are some of us who went ahead with marrying here anyway, but at the moment? I don't know. I don't think so."
A beat. "Do I want to remarry? Not really. At least not right now. It's... I think I still think about her too much for it to be fair to anyone else, and my life isn't exactly, well--stable enough at the moment for me to imagine it, especially given that I haven't been interested in anyone in that way. Of course there are some of us who went ahead with marrying here anyway, but at the moment? I don't know. I don't think so."
"What about something less strenuous, then? Even in my day we didn't jump directly into marriage- you know, dates and other diversions. Again, hardly a requirement, you don't have to. But it is also an option. No commitment, just to enjoy someone's company."
"I mean, I... I did the sleeping around thing. The amount of women's beds I weaseled my way into could populate a city block. And then it stopped being fun, and I got so depressed, I just. I don't know."
There's a pause as he stares at his hands, clasped in front of him on the table. "I kind of just cosigned myself to being a 'date to marry' kind of guy after I got bored. The other thing is--when I was sleeping around, I wasn't always. Honest? I was a jackass whose only care was getting his rocks off, so I used to find ways to lie to them and pretend I wasn't a complete stranger; a college classmate, some old coworker, it didn't matter. I'd badger them. Find the right thing to say. And then I could check them off a list."
He grimaces. "Ugh. I still get heebie jeebies thinking about how many consent rules I must've broke. I know I'd do things differently now, of course, but I haven't exactly had a reason to try. I've been kind of scared to, honestly. Having a fling, I mean. Up 'till a year ago I was pretty exclusive."
There's a pause as he stares at his hands, clasped in front of him on the table. "I kind of just cosigned myself to being a 'date to marry' kind of guy after I got bored. The other thing is--when I was sleeping around, I wasn't always. Honest? I was a jackass whose only care was getting his rocks off, so I used to find ways to lie to them and pretend I wasn't a complete stranger; a college classmate, some old coworker, it didn't matter. I'd badger them. Find the right thing to say. And then I could check them off a list."
He grimaces. "Ugh. I still get heebie jeebies thinking about how many consent rules I must've broke. I know I'd do things differently now, of course, but I haven't exactly had a reason to try. I've been kind of scared to, honestly. Having a fling, I mean. Up 'till a year ago I was pretty exclusive."
Ossie wrinkles up his nose a little- can't help it. Even before Arcadia he was notable among his companions for radical ideas like 'listening to women when they talk' and 'asking what they like' and 'eating pussy without being asked'.
But Phil wouldn't begrudge him his own leaf turning over, and the Wyrd knows that Phil seems to be flagellating himself sufficiently that he has no interest in assisting. So he does not, in fact, start off with 'your technique could use some fucking work'.
"I suppose you're only lucky in that you start from a place of knowing what you don't want, which is a far more fruitful position to be in than not knowing anything. And you seem terribly clear as to what the faults of this approach were. A lack of honesty, and a lack of interest in anything aside from 'getting your rocks off'. How would you approach it differently this time?"
But Phil wouldn't begrudge him his own leaf turning over, and the Wyrd knows that Phil seems to be flagellating himself sufficiently that he has no interest in assisting. So he does not, in fact, start off with 'your technique could use some fucking work'.
"I suppose you're only lucky in that you start from a place of knowing what you don't want, which is a far more fruitful position to be in than not knowing anything. And you seem terribly clear as to what the faults of this approach were. A lack of honesty, and a lack of interest in anything aside from 'getting your rocks off'. How would you approach it differently this time?"
Phil scoffs, but the gesture's turned inwards. "Ask, for one f--one thing, and not lie? Work up to it? Talk to them and get to know them as a person beyond a name to cross off? Make my intentions obvious, see if the attraction's mutual and back off if it isn't. Only go for people I actually care about in some capacity and not just a pretty face. Make sure we both know where the boundaries are. I mean--basic stuff, right?"
Look, he hasn't done flings in decades. All the things he has practice in are stuff he's thrown out.
Look, he hasn't done flings in decades. All the things he has practice in are stuff he's thrown out.
Edited 2024-01-08 09:06 (UTC)
"Is there anything wrong with sleeping with someone because they're pretty?" Ossie asks, not as a coax but as a genuine question.
"If it was basic, you wouldn't need to be taught it, and you'd have already been doing it."
"If it was basic, you wouldn't need to be taught it, and you'd have already been doing it."
Edited 2024-01-08 09:09 (UTC)
"Yeah, well. I must've skipped class that day."
Phil stops. He... thinks, tries to find what other angle Ossie must be getting at, but he is in fact still running on remarkably little sleep and a lot of stress and fumes, and he can't seem to come up with anything that he hasn't repeated to himself a hundred times already.
"I, uh, I assumed so?" Wait uh. "I mean I just--I didn't want me to do that. No, Rita had some flings just for fun with pretty people before she married me, and that was fine, but I. I couldn't let myself do that. That's what I did before."
Phil stops. He... thinks, tries to find what other angle Ossie must be getting at, but he is in fact still running on remarkably little sleep and a lot of stress and fumes, and he can't seem to come up with anything that he hasn't repeated to himself a hundred times already.
"I, uh, I assumed so?" Wait uh. "I mean I just--I didn't want me to do that. No, Rita had some flings just for fun with pretty people before she married me, and that was fine, but I. I couldn't let myself do that. That's what I did before."
Ossie very gently reaches to take Phil's hand.
"I have sucked more anonymous cock than Mae West on her hen-do. And that was before the practice was decriminalized. I have been a perfect stranger to a number of lovely women who have never so much as asked my name. We are inheritors to a fine art, which is to say the artform- and it is an artform- of cruising."
...
"Not in the- now how we're presently doing it, you get the meaning. The art of listening to subtle tells, of openness, and curiousity, and- most vitally- desire for completely and perfectly vapid reasons. The issue was always the mutuality of the practice, and not your wants. So you liked pretty women- who doesn't? If you had been honest about what you were after then I can assure you, you still would have ended up in beds, being the perfectly charming man that you are. Desiring is never the issue, wot?"
"I have sucked more anonymous cock than Mae West on her hen-do. And that was before the practice was decriminalized. I have been a perfect stranger to a number of lovely women who have never so much as asked my name. We are inheritors to a fine art, which is to say the artform- and it is an artform- of cruising."
...
"Not in the- now how we're presently doing it, you get the meaning. The art of listening to subtle tells, of openness, and curiousity, and- most vitally- desire for completely and perfectly vapid reasons. The issue was always the mutuality of the practice, and not your wants. So you liked pretty women- who doesn't? If you had been honest about what you were after then I can assure you, you still would have ended up in beds, being the perfectly charming man that you are. Desiring is never the issue, wot?"
Edited 2024-01-08 11:08 (UTC)
Ah. Yeah. This is familiar territory. The gentle patience, the advice, the laying out in words what should have been obvious to him the way it always seems to be for others. So much of Punxsutawney will never know what they did for him. Ossie's words get slotted into the mental filing cabinet neatly between everything else he's ever been told.
He still can't seem to quite stomach the idea for himself. All he did when we was chasing vapid pleasures was screw up the whole routine and hurt people, so he stopped. Trying to do it again is...
"So--so what would you say? Or do? Recommend?"
He still can't seem to quite stomach the idea for himself. All he did when we was chasing vapid pleasures was screw up the whole routine and hurt people, so he stopped. Trying to do it again is...
"So--so what would you say? Or do? Recommend?"
"I recommend finding one little desire when you wake up in the morning, and then try and fulfil it if you can. Needn't even be sexual, frankly, sometimes I wake up with cravings of a variety of sources. It's the listening that's the tricky part. Often when we start listening is when we feel we can start speaking again, that some little desire will tip us off to something more substantial. Perhaps I wake up with the desire to have my cock sucked, and eventually I work out that I want Giles to do it, because I like some aspect of it. Or maybe I just want intimacy with someone new, or I don't want to be doing the work for once."
Ossie shrugs.
"And Phil? Give yourself a break, if you can. If we all stepped out of the ocean fully formed in our sexualities, dripping pearls like radiant Aphrodite, the world would look very different. I had awkward, uncomfortable, even regretful encounters. They make up the tapestry of the life I've lived, and point me better towards what I want, yes?"
Ossie shrugs.
"And Phil? Give yourself a break, if you can. If we all stepped out of the ocean fully formed in our sexualities, dripping pearls like radiant Aphrodite, the world would look very different. I had awkward, uncomfortable, even regretful encounters. They make up the tapestry of the life I've lived, and point me better towards what I want, yes?"
"Right," he murmurs, nodding. "I mean, I know, I just... yeah. It's just--I need to think about it. I don't think I know what I do or don't want at this point. I guess this is the kind of thing where all you can do is try things out, huh."
Which makes him incredibly nervous, but. What else is there for him to do about this.
Which makes him incredibly nervous, but. What else is there for him to do about this.
"All in good time," he soothes, "and no doubt you'll have plenty of willing participants."
And, immediately, as so Phil doesn't think he's offering his guidance just to crack onto him-
"More coffee?"
And, immediately, as so Phil doesn't think he's offering his guidance just to crack onto him-
"More coffee?"
Phil pauses. Huffs, smiles faintly, and pushes his cup forward.
"Yes, if you please."
"Yes, if you please."
"Don't you look handsome?"
Phil lounges at the cocktail bar--here, rather than Bobby B's, just for a bit of variety. He looks nicely done up himself, although the general bar he maintains means there isn't much more going on than his hair and feathers all being neater than usual.
But Ossie is here, and Phil's mantle kicks up a cool and playful breeze. He raises the Manhattan he's poured himself in greeting. "Shall I mix you anything? I was a deft hand at Punxsutawney's bar, if I do say so myself."
Phil lounges at the cocktail bar--here, rather than Bobby B's, just for a bit of variety. He looks nicely done up himself, although the general bar he maintains means there isn't much more going on than his hair and feathers all being neater than usual.
But Ossie is here, and Phil's mantle kicks up a cool and playful breeze. He raises the Manhattan he's poured himself in greeting. "Shall I mix you anything? I was a deft hand at Punxsutawney's bar, if I do say so myself."
Ossie, in turn, has... strangely dressed down a little for the occasion. Out of his usual three piece suit and into something a little more comfortable, a sweater vest in a pale shade of pink.
"Really?" Ossie asks, with a playful curiosity, "by all means then- I couldn't possibly not let you show off."
"Really?" Ossie asks, with a playful curiosity, "by all means then- I couldn't possibly not let you show off."
He supposed that when one wears a full three-piece suit all the time, dressing down is more to look at.
Phil smiles, sliding off of his seat and striding to a spot behind the bar.
“I’m no Johnny Summer, of course, but I’ve still got a few tricks. Got anything in mind?”
Phil smiles, sliding off of his seat and striding to a spot behind the bar.
“I’m no Johnny Summer, of course, but I’ve still got a few tricks. Got anything in mind?”
"Hmmm," Ossie makes a show of pondering as he slips into his own seat.
"Impress me? Something flashy, I don't mind what it tastes like."
"Impress me? Something flashy, I don't mind what it tastes like."
"Flashy, ehn? Hmm."
There's a few he has in mind, but he takes a moment to assess if he's got everything he needs for any of them. And indeed he does for one in particular.
"All right. Here we are."
And he goes. First he sets aside a tall glass to chill with ice water; then he goes about building the cocktail, with a bit of lemon juice, a bit of lime, simple syrup, gin, heavy cream--then there's shaking, and straining, the white of an egg added, and here he goes back to the shaking. ... And keeps shaking. "You know," he grunts, "you can get more or less the same effect doing this for just a minute or so instead of the traditional 12 if you do it right--hope you don't mind."
Then pour, then rest it for a minute, then add club soda, then orange flower water, and a straw stuck straight through the crown of foam over the whole thing.
"There." He smiles lightly, sliding it over to Ossie. "Ramos Gin Fizz. The thing to get you hated by bartenders if you ask for one."
There's a few he has in mind, but he takes a moment to assess if he's got everything he needs for any of them. And indeed he does for one in particular.
"All right. Here we are."
And he goes. First he sets aside a tall glass to chill with ice water; then he goes about building the cocktail, with a bit of lemon juice, a bit of lime, simple syrup, gin, heavy cream--then there's shaking, and straining, the white of an egg added, and here he goes back to the shaking. ... And keeps shaking. "You know," he grunts, "you can get more or less the same effect doing this for just a minute or so instead of the traditional 12 if you do it right--hope you don't mind."
Then pour, then rest it for a minute, then add club soda, then orange flower water, and a straw stuck straight through the crown of foam over the whole thing.
"There." He smiles lightly, sliding it over to Ossie. "Ramos Gin Fizz. The thing to get you hated by bartenders if you ask for one."
Ossie claps his hands together in sheer delight, taking the drink graciously and giving it a taste before commenting.
"That is wonderfully impressive- the unofficial drink of New Orleans, if my memory serves me. I haven't had one of these since the last time I visited the Roosevelt in New York," he chimes, eagerly taking another sip.
"You are just full of surprises," and Ossie leans his elbow on the bar to prop his chin up with his fist, "I like that in a man."
"That is wonderfully impressive- the unofficial drink of New Orleans, if my memory serves me. I haven't had one of these since the last time I visited the Roosevelt in New York," he chimes, eagerly taking another sip.
"You are just full of surprises," and Ossie leans his elbow on the bar to prop his chin up with his fist, "I like that in a man."
“I had a lot of time to work on those surprises,” he hums, grinning as he puts a drink together for himself. Looks like something with cognac and brandy. “No better use for ‘em than something like this, ehn? Entertain some people, make them happy.”
"A noble pursuit," Ossie agrees, gently stirring his drink with his straw.
"Now what say you we skip any further pleasantries, finish these, and head back to mine, mm? You certainly don't need to win me over any further, I'm eager to get back to where we left off."
"Now what say you we skip any further pleasantries, finish these, and head back to mine, mm? You certainly don't need to win me over any further, I'm eager to get back to where we left off."
Phil grins. “Cutting to the chase this time. Good. I like that. Just don’t hurry the drink too fast; I worked hard on it.” But of course, he could always make him another.
Phil takes a deeper drink from his cocktail. No need to savor something he’s had a hundred times before, or to take it slow; it’ll be his only drink of the night.
He leans over the counter. “Mind if I taste my work?”
He’s not looking at the drink.
Phil takes a deeper drink from his cocktail. No need to savor something he’s had a hundred times before, or to take it slow; it’ll be his only drink of the night.
He leans over the counter. “Mind if I taste my work?”
He’s not looking at the drink.
Ah, good, he's matching Ossie's pace like he's had practice at it. Ossie smirks and takes a hand off his drink, just barely tracing the bottom of Phil's chin with the nail of his pointer finger.
"I really must insist you do."
"I really must insist you do."
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