Written Wonderland

Having come out of the curtained room, Juniper nodded at the doorman, already feeling some comradery in the mild, lightly shared secret they held for each other about the room and the people who had gone in. For reasons Juniper could not explain, he trusted the man implicitly. Perhaps it had been the smoothness with which the attendant had navigated the disgruntled patron.

But, Juniper did, in fact, move on to the table with the punch, grateful for something to cool him down. It was pleasantly iced, although Juniper thought it really could do with a splash of vermouth and prosecco. He rolled the glass around his hand, breathing a little easier now in the much more spacious gallery lounge as he tried not to think too deeply about what might happen when he and Cory left this place, moving to stand near a large potted ficus tree. A late evening walk, perhaps? No, he shouldn't get ahead of himself. Better, even, that he simply lay out what had already happened.

Cory invited me to his studio. Cory offered to draw me in his studio. Nude, in his studio, perhaps.

The thought sent a thrill through the entire front half of Juniper's body, and he took a sip of his punch to suppress the shiver that threatened to visibly run through him. It was such an appealing thought that Juniper began second-guessing himself, thinking he must surely have misunderstood the artist somehow.

Juniper ran over their conversation again in his mind.

I can only imagine how intimate that might feel.

I would love to draw you, Juniper.

Had Juniper invited himself into such an experience? No, surely not. Cory had asked if Juniper had ever been drawn. Perhaps Juniper shouldn't push the issue. Perhaps Cory only meant it as wishful thinking, not a reality they would actually plan together. Juniper decided he wouldn't get his hopes up about when or even if such a thing would actually occur.

Before long, Cory walked out of the curtained room, and Juniper hadn't fully realized he had been waiting for exactly that until he felt himself straighten his posture. He took in the sight of the freshly flushed artist--still warm from the close quarters of the room, no doubt--and his gentle tousled shoulder-length hair. He truly was a work of art in and of himself, never mind what he might do with his hands. Juniper enjoyed a brief and errant thought of watching Cory "finish" Hopper's painting of the park, adding the detail he had discussed. It felt terribly taboo to even consider, and yet...

Juniper resisted the urge to walk up to Cory, which was perhaps exacerbated by the gentle crease across Cory's brow. Had he been concerned when Juniper left? Heaven forbid that Juniper make Cory feel anxious after they had had such a delightful interaction.

I wasn't running away from you, Juniper thought. I was running away from... Well, everything. Being watched. And, again, Juniper wanted out of this enclosed space even though he loved this gallery. He wanted a moment, just one moment, of freedom.

Instead of walking to Cory, Juniper retrieved another glass of punch for Cory and carefully swapped out his glass, smiling bashfully at the man with a playful near-laugh. Yes, Juniper needed to get out of here lest his behavior come under scrutiny from the person at the refreshment table. Juniper was having a difficult time hiding just how much he was enjoying himself. Nodding an instruction to Cory, Juniper turned a corner and sat on a two-person bench near the gallery entrance. There wasn't much to look at here besides some well-maintained potted plants, but at least they could finish their punch.

"On the whole," Juniper said, his tone playfully formal in a slightly more jaunty tone than his usual speaking voice once they had settled in, "I'd give the gallery curator ample credit for the layout. Very thoughtfully put together--good use of the individual rooms. Plenty of intrigue." Juniper lightly raised one eyebrow and looked at Cory momentarily before looking back toward his drink. "You're right, though, something about the exhibit on the whole feels... unfinished. Incomplete." Juniper wondered if he was talking about the installation anymore or if he was simply trying to get an impression of if Cory wanted to continue spending time together. Both, he determined. Decidedly, both.

Cory sat down on a bench next to Juniper near the gallery entrance. He felt a little bit like he had been transported there from a dream, or maybe like he was in a dream. But, he felt happy with the bench, with the man sitting beside him, and with the plants that now kept them company.

"On the whole," Juniper said, his tone jaunty and formal but with a playful lilt, "I'd give the gallery curator ample credit for the layout. Very thoughtfully put together--good use of the individual rooms. Plenty of intrigue."

Juniper lightly raised an eyebrow toward Cory, and Cory let out a soft, airy breath of a laugh, feeling like he was finally catching up with something.

"You're right, though," Juniper went on, "something about the exhibit on the whole feels... unfinished. Incomplete."

Cory hummed a soft, contemplative affirmation, smiling gently down toward his fresh glass of punch. He felt some sadness, though. Some anxiety that he simply could not produce a witty reply, but it was more than just that. It was how they'd left the last exhibit. It was the weight of all the ways he felt like he didn't belong here, however nice a time he had had. How he felt like he didn't belong in most of the spaces he moved through, for one reason or another. I look forward to sharing a wholly private moment with you. Juniper's words echoed in his mind, and he realized with some trepidation that his vision was suddenly growing a little bit blurry.

"Your words move me," he finally said, trying to muster a similarly playful jaunty tone as he flashed Juniper a crooked smile, self-aware of the tears in his eyes and opting to just own them where Juniper could see. He doubted he'd be able to hide them, anyhow, not in any way that wouldn't surely cause Juniper some kind of consternation. Hopefully they were still plenty subtle enough that passerby wouldn't pay any mind, though. Still, Cory wondered how much longer he could stay here. Then, he remembered where he had met Juniper outside at the start of the evening.

"Could we go find someplace quiet for a smoke, do you think?" He felt a bit bad that he hadn't touched the fresh punch that Juniper had gotten them, but he just wasn't sure he'd be able to get through it.

Cory hummed beside him a little distantly.

After a moment of silence, Juniper looked over at his companion and realized that Cory had tears in his eyes. Juniper's eyebrows came together in concerned confusion, but he let the artist speak.

"Your words move me," Cory said with a teary smile, but Juniper squinted and shifted his head slightly, sensing that there was more to Cory's sudden emotionality. Had something happened in the exhibit room after Juniper had left? Then, Cory continued, "Could we go find someplace quiet for a smoke, do you think?" Cory looked at his punch with some lament, and Juniper thought perhaps he had been too preemptive in getting them each another glass. That said, if Cory was willing to go for a smoke, that really was the best of all worlds, though Juniper felt a little guilty about the path that had been required to get there.

"Of course," Juniper said earnestly, doing everything he could not to sound too eager. "There's a park a couple blocks from here we could walk to, if you'd like. Rarely anyone there this time of night." Juniper stood, gesturing to take Cory's glass with a warm, tender smile. "Shall we, then?"

"Of course," Juniper said earnestly, and Cory let out a slight, relieved sigh.

"There's a park a couple blocks from here we could walk to, if you'd like," Juniper continued. "Rarely anyone there this time of night." Juniper stood, gesturing to take Cory's glass with a warm, tender smile. "Shall we, then?"

Cory happily offered his glass, nodding and standing to follow the man. He felt a little bit childish, the way that he followed Juniper's lead now, but he was so deeply grateful. He tried to at least cast his eyes around the hall as they walked, visiting architecture or plants as seemed appropriate, lest he focus more on Juniper than he ought to.

It was a big relief even just exiting the building. It was often some amount of relief exiting a building, truth told. Cory looked up at the night sky and took in a deep breath, his smile growing a little more alive.

"Thank you," he said once they were down the stairs, something settling about entering the realm of pedestrians. "I feel a little..." he tilted his head, embarassed that he didn't seem to have the word he needed at hand. In lieu of it, he gestured in the air, his wrist lightly turning his palm toward the sky and then back toward the ground, his fingers drawing gentle circles along the way. Then, he slipped both hands into his pockets, and let out a soft sigh.

"I haven't... navigated something like that in public for quite some time." Maybe ever? Well, he didn't want to go digging through memories right now to find out. He hoped that his words were understandable to Juniper while still being appropriate for the atmosphere of a city street. He wanted to go ahead and give Juniper something to at least indicate the shape of what was going on while they still had a few minutes of walking ahead.

Cory gave Juniper his glass with a smile, and Juniper took them to the refreshment table, offering a small donation to make up for the wastefulness.

He didn't mind that Cory was following his lead--in fact, he appreciated it. And soon, Juniper led them out of the building, where Cory looked up into the night sky and exhaled with palpable relief. Juniper had a difficult time not staring at Cory--he enjoyed watching the man enjoy whatever he would of the world, it seemed--but he eventually dropped his gaze and started down the museum steps, content to be patient before understanding what had set Cory off.

"Thank you," Cory said once they were down the stairs. "I feel a little..." Juniper turned to look at Cory as they walked down the sidewalk, and he was glad he did because Cory made a marvelous gesture with his hand when he couldn't finish his sentence. He raised one palm toward the sky and then lowered it toward the ground, drawing circles in the air with his fingers all the way there. Juniper's breath caught in his throat--the sight of the man's hand was beautiful, and Juniper longed to touch Cory like that or for Cory to touch him like that. Cory sighed softly beside him, and Juniper returned his gaze to the path ahead.

"I haven't... navigated something like that in public for quite some time," Cory added, and Juniper's brow furrowed as he thought through what exactly Cory might be referring to. Certainly, the nude art exhibit was more titillating than the average museum trip, and Juniper could imagine that discussing drawing someone was also a particular excitement, but in and of themselves, was that enough to bring Cory to tears? Or, perhaps, had Juniper been too obvious? He thought he had been discreet about his interest overall. He would certainly like to think that the average passerby would not have thought twice about the two of them. Sure, Juniper had put a hand on Cory's shoulder, but... Ah. There had been something undeniable about the moment their fingers had touched in that final room, wasn't there? Surely such a magnetism could not be felt exclusively by only one party. And then Cory had asked if Juniper had ever been drawn.

I would love to draw you, Juniper.

Was it possible that those brief encounters had instilled in Cory enough trust to be this candid now? And if that were the case, what other opportunities had Cory had to navigate such a thing in public? Juniper couldn't let himself speculate on Cory's history with other men, though, not with Cory here now and still likely waiting for Juniper's response.

"You're... welcome. Although, I fear I may have made things more difficult for you. If that is the case, then please accept my apology." Juniper let a small silence stand in the air before he spoke again. "I hadn't actually dared to imagine you might reciprocate." Here was hoping that Cory and Juniper were speaking of the same thing. There was a niggling fear that Juniper had missed something after he had left the room, but surely Cory wouldn't expect him to know about something that had occurred in his absence. No, the more he thought it over, the more confident he became that he was exactly correct about what had Cory feeling adrift. There was... no place for what they wanted to be to each other. At least, not yet.

Juniper was quiet for some time, which was fine with Cory. They were not yet to a place where they could speak fully candidly, anyhow. Cory looked down at the sidewalk for a moment, resting his eyes and his attention as he walked. Tears still threatened to spill over--he yearned to hold Juniper's hand, remembering the breathless spark of their fingers touching in the curtained room--but he held them at bay with reassurances that the park would hold relief of some kind. Surely a shoulder squeeze would be safe enough there, if not another brushing of fingers, at least.

"You're... welcome," Juniper said after a moment. "Although, I fear I may have made things more difficult for you. If that is the case, then please accept my apology." Cory lifted his gaze to Juniper, a sad smile drawing his brow together. Oh, how he wished to reassure Juniper that he had not made things difficult; things simply were difficult. But, before he figured out how to, Juniper added, "I hadn't actually dared to imagine you might reciprocate." Cory's smile brightened a little, though bashfulnes drew his gaze away. There was giddiness, too, amidst this other miasma. He held out hope that he would find his way more fully back to it.

"You have been an absolute dream, Juniper. Please don't doubt that about this evening." Cory could feel his cheeks growing a little hotter, and finally he reached up to release a button on his shirt and more deliberately loosen his tie, offering Juniper a sheepish sidelong smile. Surely he was within his rights to at least make himself a little more comfortable, now that the museum was behind them. "It's... forces beyond us, that are constricting."

((OOC: Realize I'm not sure what the temperature is like outside rn, but I believe Cory would be long past ready to loosen his tie regardless lol))

((OOC: Let's call it mid-summer. Sounds fun for it to be warm enough for both of them to enjoy this.))

Perhaps Juniper imagined it, but he thought that Cory's smile grew more radiant after he spoke. Still, the artist looked away from Juniper, bashfully if Juniper was understanding the response correctly.

"You have been an absolute dream, Juniper. Please don't doubt that about this evening."

An absolute dream.

Juniper felt his head swim at that description, and it was easy to believe that his mind would revisit the sound of Cory saying that again and again for the rest of Juniper's life.

Cory undid the top button on his shirt and loosened his tie, making Juniper's cheeks grow warm. There was something disarming about what Cory was saying, especially coupled with his decision to make his own attire more casual. Cory was relaxing around Juniper, and it had the odd effect of only making Juniper more nervous.

"It's... forces beyond us, that are constricting," Cory finished, and Juniper nodded, gesturing that they should turn the corner. They only had one more block to walk, and Juniper wondered what would happen there. The park had quite a number of trees, and Juniper knew of a bench that offered relative privacy but still had a nice view of the lights from a hillside with a manicured forested area in the background. He couldn't promise himself that no one would see them, but they could surely speak plainly there, if they were going to.

Juniper relied on the pleasant, buzzing silence between them for another moment, wondering how comfortable Cory was with being out in comparison to Juniper. Not enough to make a scene, Juniper supposed, but maybe more cavalier than Juniper felt comfortable being. But, potentially, Cory had less to lose, being an artist--not that being flamboyant wasn't risky beyond just one's reputation. Ah, but Juniper was making assumptions, and that wasn't going to take him anywhere good. It was really better to just enjoy this: walking beside a handsome man on the way to a park late at night.

Nervous to dampen the mood but unable to stop himself from filling the silence, Juniper said, "I had quite a run in with the 'forces beyond us' back in Chicago. To be quite honest, I haven't... Well, this is the first time I've let New York catch my attention, let's say." Juniper smiled at Cory, then, his eyes full of honeyed warmth and admiration.

Juniper gestured for them to turn, and Cory felt himself already beginning to relax further as they rounded the corner and the park came into view down the block. It would be really nice to be among trees. Cory thought of Hopper's painting of a park that he had critiqued--a rather different sight, coming down a city street at night, but there was certainly an intersecting fondness in beholding an entrance into nature.

The silence that passed between them as they approached the park was pleasant, if buzzing gently with anticipation, and Cory was feeling much more himself, his tears thankfully subsided. He'd appreciated that he'd found ways to state some things relatively plainly even in this transitional space, and to be honest, he'd probably under-estimated how much his shirt collar had been factoring in this whole time. What he'd give to bare his collar bones whenever he pleased... ah, but that would lead him back toward the miasma.

"I had quite a run in with the 'forces beyond us' back in Chicago," Juniper said, perhaps also drawn toward the miasma in the moment. Cory offered him a sympathetic gaze. "To be quite honest, I haven't... Well, this is the first time I've let New York catch my attention, let's say."

Juniper smiled to Cory, and Cory looked bashfully away again, his own smile ear to ear. He felt like a teenager again, his giddiness positively ridiculous now that it was coming into full bloom. It was getting to the point of feeling too good to be true, but... Juniper really had been a dream, and Cory simply couldn't find it in himself to doubt him.

"I'm very sorry you had a run in," Cory finally said, finding his grounding in the acknowledgement of their shared struggle. He brought his gaze back to Juniper with a gentle smile, full of understanding, though it faltered to blush again when he returned to the sight of Juniper's expression, this time taking in more of the warm admiration so plain in the man's eyes. Once more Cory's own smile widened to ridiculousness, and he turned his gaze down to the sidewalk angled slightly away from Juniper, shyness now beginning to overtake him. "But... I am delighted to have somehow caught your attention."

The urge rose to bump shoulders with Juniper, or wrap his arm around the man's back, or maybe even to kiss him, but Cory dare not escalate. He was still in unfamiliar territory--feeling more comfortable on the whole now at least, but still committed to following Juniper's lead, no matter how bright his giddiness glowed within him. The best his could do was just try to keep the miasma at bay, and enjoy what he could of what they could do together this evening.

With a gentle, sympathetic smile, Cory said, "I'm very sorry you had a run in," though he quickly looked away and even put some distance between himself and Juniper. Juniper might have worried except that the next thing out of Cory's mouth was, "But... I am delighted to have somehow caught your attention."

Juniper's eyebrows raised and pulled together, confused and surprised by the artist's humility. To Juniper, it felt so blindingly obvious that Cory was a catch, if only on account of his gestures in the air alone. Cory was smiling ear to ear, making Juniper feel light and giddy. He almost felt like skipping or bursting into song, wrapping his hand around a streetlamp and spinning around to serenade Cory with all the numerous ways he had caught Juniper's attention. Ah, but Juniper wasn't exactly a singer--not an artistic skill in his gene pool, unfortunately. But, he did know how to string words together well, if he could say so himself.

Seeing that they neared the entrance of the park and that there was no one in sight, Juniper grew somewhat bolder.

"Cory..." Juniper said, his own smile wide and his eyes full of mischief, "...I do not even need to see your work to tell you that I could die and be reincarnated as a tube of paint in your hands, and that would be a good life. Your hands are full of curiosity. What more could I possibly want." He knew he was being flowery now, maybe to the point of being unbelievable, but he wanted Cory to know that status, class, money--whatever other external forces may be at play--none of that mattered when it came to this glorious opportunity between them. Juniper had every intention of standing on equal footing with this man as they enjoyed whatever life had left to offer them.

"Cory..." Juniper's voice was warm and gleaming, and it drew Cory's gaze back up to him, a shiver cascading across the back of his neck as his shyness inexplicably melted to a sense of awe--which only grew as Juniper continued.

"...I do not even need to see your work to tell you that I could die and be reincarnated as a tube of paint in your hands, and that would be a good life. Your hands are full of curiosity. What more could I possibly want."

Cory was absolutely dumbstruck, and his curious hands yearned to pull Juniper close to him. In fact he had the impulse to be quite bold in that moment, which was thrilling, though it did threaten to pull the miasma back in as Cory pointedly did not allow himself to act. He held the miasma at bay by staring openly into Juniper's eyes, delighting in the man's glittering, earnest smile. Cory still did not understand exactly how he had made such an impression on this man, but perhaps he could let go of questioning it. The impression was made, one way or another, and Cory was elated by it.

Only... now what?

An urge rose to look around and assess their surroundings, but he didn't actually want to pull his gaze from Juniper's eyes. In the friction, he tried to keep a hold of his awe in Juniper's words--replayed them in his mind, and decided that, surely, Juniper had already assessed that the risk of someone overhearing them, at least, was within his tolerance. Granted, what Cory wanted to say was perhaps an escalation in content, which he made up for with a softer volume to his voice.

"Please," came the breathless whisper from his tongue, "take me somewhere I can touch you."