Karl, Harry sinclair and dougray Scott: shopping for china and linens
players only. takes place about a week after this discussion
"I like those ones," Karl says, nodding at a set of dark blue potteryware. "They're kind of different," he adds, eyeing the shelves of white china with distaste. "What do you think?" he asks, nudging Dougray and giving Harry a look.
"They're nice. Not fussy," Dougray nods, appreciating the simple design. "Is that the kind you can put in the oven as well?" He steps closer to check, running a finger over a platter's smooth finish.
"I think so," Harry mutters, his eye attracted by the bright Fiestaware. "Could we get some contrast pieces that are bolder? And we need new mugs. Half the cupboard's chipped."
"Says oven-safe," Karl murmurs, reading the back of a plate. "But if you like those," he says to Harry, nodding at the other dishes, "we can go with those. I just don't want fucking white."
"Too vanilla?" Dougray bites his tongue and grins.
Harry does a quick double-take at Dougray, then laughs loudly enough for the sales clerk to glance their way. "Wouldn't know vanilla if he licked it off a spoon," he whispers. "Maybe there's something in-between. I like the pottery pieces."
Karl covers his mouth with the back of his hand, trying not to laugh his ass off. "Fuck you both," he murmurs, deadpan, eyes full of mischief as he quickly recovers and nods at another set of dishes. "What about those?"
"I don't think you can. I mean, it's physically impossible for you to fuck both of us," Harry mutters, almost under his breath, glancing at the dishes. "Now two of us could fuck one, though. And I like those."
The casual suggestion makes Dougray's breath catch, and he stares vaguely off into the linens section, shoving his hands in his pockets. And tries not to squirm.
"I think you're embarrassing the boy," Karl points out, struggling to keep a straight face. "I don't think he wants to be thinking about taking two cocks right now."
"Don't know why. Can't spend all day picking china." Harry shrugs and nudges Dougray's shoulder. "We getting linens to go with these?"
Do we use linens? There's a moment while Dougray's brain stutters back into play. "Ahh, sure. Those ones that are already stain-guarded," he suggests. Pointedly.
Harry leans over and gives Dougray a quick kiss, on the cheek, almost discreet. "Brilliant. Sensibility would say go with the cream-colored ones, but I like the darker shades to match the china."
"Quit it with the mush," Karl grins, popping Harry lightly on the ass as he moves past him. "We have towels to pick out too."
Dougray's eyes widen briefly at the kiss, and then he ducks his head to hide a sheepish smile. And he finds he doesn't mind so much. "No romance in housewares," he whispers to Harry, his eyes dancing.
"You two are so not fun," Harry says, sliding into campy overtones. "See if I put out when we get to bedding." He motions the clerk over with a strong flick of wrist. "We'll take eight place settings of that," he says, pointing to the china they've all agreed is just right. "Do we need silver?"
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