PSL for dreadnaughtfist

[papapink]

Pembe had had a series of unfortunate happenstances - that had ended up with him rather... homeless, and then taken in by a rather overlarge man. ... While there were several problems Pem could have really had with this arrangement, he'd done his best to take it all in stride. He was used to sudden change - it was how he'd lived his life up 'til now... though he'd hardly interacted with the other man other than polite introductions and a bit of idle chatter after convincing him that him staying there was better than a shelter. It'd only been a day or two since he'd... "moved in" (which was such a stretch of the phrase, considering the most he'd done was bring his clothes, camera, a small box of particularly random junk, and his cat... Assuming Potemkin had no problem with animals, of course. Gren was a fearless little scottish fold, as it were. As irresponsible as he felt moving around so much with a cat in tow, Gren seemed to bear it just fine. Pem generally didn't have much more than that to his name - he'd yet to actually find a job he could settle at, and freelancing had only encouraged his already natural drifter tendencies.)

Of course, Potemkin had... tried to get him to go to a shelter first, but as the cards had laid, it wasn't a particularly good option for Pembe. While he'd considered it, shelters were, for one thing, not a good place for cats (and in spite of it all, he was damn attached to his cat), and two, he was definitely not a fan. It'd taken a bit of convincing; Pembe had had to emphasize that while his things were meager, they were still expensive, and he was willing to assist as a housemate however he could in exchange for a place to stay where he wouldn't have to worry about having someone steal his camera... but he thought it'd gone well, considering that Potemkin had let him stay.

Though he'd promised to assist however he could with Potemkin's daily life... he did feel particularly useless at the moment. His current situation had him on a couch, with Gren bedding in the (now emptied, though it still hadn't had much) aforementioned box of junk. So, instead of giving in to the impulse to continue being useless, Pembe opted to take another option: start trying to do as he promised earlier. Potemkin would soon find himself hunted down by the big ball of pink that was Pembe - hair dye, glasses, and shirt making him... very pink. Pembe was large by most's standards, considering his height of 6'3", but Potemkin sort of outstripped him by leaps and bounds. It was a strange feeling - he rarely had to look up at people. But if he was going to room with Potemkin for long - which he was sort of hoping, given the area was fairly ideal - he'd have to get over it.

"Hey!" He greeted, throwing up a hand in a sort of wave when he caught Potemkin's attention. "I... uh, I was thinking I should get started on that whole business I offered earlier. Chores and all." He suppressed the urge to say he'd felt like a useless lump just because he hadn't started immediately, "You got laundry or... y'know, something I could help out with?" His smile was awkward - living in a house with someone you barely new was always destined to be awkward - but Pembe... was hoping he could at least get to know him, anyway.

Lord only knew if Potemkin's living style was clean and tidy or an utter mess... Judging from the man's bearing, Pem could've bet on either or.

Comments

[dreadnaughtfist]

Even though he lived alone (Potemkin's entire life was spent in solitary existence when one goes over it, actually), Potemkin still found the house as good of an area to exercise discipline as any other. Laundry goes in bins labeled for that purpose, dishes get put on the rack, and absolutely nothing gets left on the floor.

So there's another reason why Pembe would have felt out of work - the place is too spotless. Potemkin wasn't really thinking about the actual services to gain when Pembe approached him with his offer, just the state of mind of a man who seemed naturally more fit for an environment where he could do his art. (And Gren's sad eyes. Animals always took all fight out of Potemkin.) Potemkin has to learn how to make junk before Pembe could actually face a decent timesink in that area.

Potemkin thought for a few moments in honest racking of his brains, but the pause in answering might have come off as cold. It's an issue that Potemkin fell into constantly; with a face like a blunt instrument, and a voice which was not inclined to being chirpy, even his resting face was intimidating. "You're asking already? There's nothing scheduled to come up for a few days, except for washing down the bathroom on Saturday."

[papapink]

While he'd appreciated the cleanliness of the house, it definitely made him feel like a lump - even worse than before. And while Potemkin's discipline was admirable... it still made the house feel rather sterile, and it made Pembe itch inside. His general residences were rarely ever dirty by most's standards, but the coating of random forgotten items and cat fur had helped them feel more... homely.

However, it seemed like Potemkin had none of those things. He was surprised the man had caved - though he did notice the way the man had softened, even how little of it was visible, when Gren had come into the picture. The man hadn't rebutted quite as much when the smaller cat was in the picture. (Perhaps that was the start of Pembe's real interest in Potemkin - as more than just a man offering him a home - when he learned that the man was a bit more than what he appeared to be.)

If Pembe was put off by the pause, or the rebuttal, he didn't show it with any more than a little awkward chuckle and a shrug. "Yeah, I just felt like helping. Anything that could be gotten done early? Like laundry?" If he was being honest, he felt like doing his, as well - he never felt like his clothes stayed clean inbetween houses. And he wasn't about to potentially leech further off Potemkin.

He was still a bit antsy about the man being larger than him, though he - through mostly innate tact - managed to not give that impression with more than the (doubtless rather common) awkward shifting. He was still managing a very awkward smile - he had no idea what to expect from Potemkin, though he was hoping there weren't bad things. ... Not that he really expected there to be. Anyone who liked cats could not be a bad person. It was just a fact.

"Or even just dishes, or something...?"

[dreadnaughtfist]

He's faster to answer from Pembe's given suggestions, but still he doesn't leap toward it. Everything about this man seemed to be deliberate: the way he walked, spoke, moved. It made sense; if someone of his strength was impulsive or hot-headed, there would be no end of carnage. So it spoke not just of his patience, but also his concern of the well-being of others. "Laundry can be done early," he said, right before turning to a different direction of the house, a clear target in mind.

"It's always in the hamper outside the bedroom. Since this is near the end of the week, it is mostly full, but now would be the time to add anything, if you wish."

[papapink]

Pembe wasn't sure he fully understood Potemkin - not yet, anyway - but he did at least appreciate the man's slowness, a bit. He could see how the man being brash would be a bad thing. Though at the same time, he did wish Potemkin could lighten up a bit. The bigger man didn't have to be so uptight - at least, not in his own home.

"Alright, then!" The idea of a full hamper - considering someone of Potemkin's size - was just a bit worrying. "I was thinking about throwing the clothes I brought in, since... it's pretty rare stuff like that stays clean, you know?" He chuckled, "At least, in transit. Are you the kind of guy to iron his clothes? If you do, I can do that, too!" He chuckled, voice actually rather pleasant - he was trying to relax just as much as lighten his mood some. (And maybe see if he could earn a smile from Potemkin? Somehow, the idea of Potemkin smiling felt like it'd put him much more at ease...)

In terms of if the huge man ironed or not, it seemed like a no-brainer, considering how formal Potemkin looked, but an important logistical question had arose to Pembe when he'd considered the idea of Potemkin actively ironing his uniforms: did anyone make irons that men with hands the size of Potemkin's could actually... safely... use...?

The house had been properly up-sized in some ways for Potemkin - that much, Pembe could tell - but Pembe had a feeling an iron was a different story... Though he'd been wrong before. The world today was much stranger than he liked to note, even as a journalist. There was probably something or other for that, somewhere...

[dreadnaughtfist]

From how his chuckling and light joking was received, already Pembe should have been able to tell that he faced an uphill battle in "Getting Potemkin to lighten up". While a huge part of his demeanor was a development in reaction to the strength he was born with, the responsibility he never chose to own, Potemkin was also just like that. Even his friends would struggle to come up with a memory of him smiling.

"I do iron. I would like that offer very much, Pembe."

No, he never found giant irons. Potemkin never found a lot of things that were for his size, including until relatively recently clothes and a bed. He accepted he was a man in a world undersized for him, and made himself the one who had to adapt instead of burdening the world around him. But if there was one area Pembe could definitely help Potemkin out on, it was using more complicated appliances for him. If Pembe saw how he normally does it, the handle barely pinched between his fingers, he would have plenty of reason to laugh.

They came to a beige basket, which true to what Potemkin said was half-filled with a load appropriate for the middle of the week.

"I should add what I can, too," he said while standing above it. Sticking to his word, Potemkin then lifted his shirt over his shoulders and head. Immediately by pulling the cloth off his stomach he flashes his body, his waist thick with muscle.

[papapink]

Seeing how Potemkin handled it probably would have earned both laughter and pity. He was already able to tell smiling might be an... uphill task, so to speak, but he didn't decide to give up on it. He was just as stubborn as one might expect - but he smiled at the man accepting his offer.

He was a bit heartened by the fact Potemkin - who definitely wasn't about to mince words - appreciated his offer. He definitely wouldn't mind being the man's hands in some instances - when his thicker fingers failed him.

"Great!" He turned his attention to Potemkin's laundry, immediately taking notice of the size of the clothes. His mind set itself curiously to trying to figure out exactly how many clothes there were - it was hard to tell where some of the cloth ended and some of the other cloth began - though Potemkin's remark earned a curious glance from Pembe.... followed by an immediate, dark flush. He restrained himself from making a noise - he actually didn't mind, other than getting an abrupt flash of a man he'd already found himself attracted to's musculature. He immediately sucked in a breath, suppressing some of his more curious and active impulses - like, say, just sort of touching the man's chest, for example.

A part of him gently hoped that maybe, just maybe, Potemkin would get his shirt stuck or something, and need Pembe to help him. He watched for a few moments, eyes transfixed, before he looked down and swallowed.

"Rrright." He rolled the r to hide the sort of stutter in his voice, chuckling - "Dunno if I should try and add in what I'm wearing, since I don't... actually... have anything else." He appended another awkward chuckle, though he'd considered it. His question was one part curious to how Potemkin might feel about the idea of, say, a naked or near-naked Pembe doing laundry, and two parts self-conscious. In spite of the fact that what he was currently wearing could do to be washed, he was at least a bit shy.

Plus. The vague urge of wanting Potemkin to do things to him was not helping this shyness. At all.

[dreadnaughtfist]

In defiance of Pembe's fantasies, he took his shirt off with no fuss and the moment was already over, Potemkin giving a sigh before he tossed the whole shirt into the hamper. That meant he remained standing half-naked though. Potemkin was top-heavy in an extremely masculine way, shoulders and chest having enough heft in them to make the aforementioned waist look thin in comparison. With Potemkin's figure, the only parts that appeared lacking were due to even greater bounty elsewhere; even his comparatively small legs are not actually thin by any objective standard.

If Potemkin didn't prod into Pembe's nervousness earlier, he continued to act just as unobtrusive now. Or even oblivious. It makes sense that the man who was used to never being able to hide would have a skewed sense of modesty, which he extender to other people. He looked down to address Pembe.

"You could clean it in pieces, like what I'm doing. Then it'll be done eventually."

[papapink]

Pembe wasn't sure if Potemkin was unobtrusive or oblivious - either made sense, really - but if his defiance of Pembe's fantasies was to fully expose his chest, then he could have defied Pembe's fantasies as long as he liked - and still been much more enjoyable than them. Pembe's eyes rested on Potemkin's pecs for several long moments, eyeballing the man's chest. His shirt had hidden his general musculature well - likely due to how large the garment was - and Pembe was... simply stunned that a man like this existed in this world.

Articulating he wanted to make great use of every inch of Potemkin's body was, however, not an idea Pembe thought was a good one. Pembe chuckled, shrugging - "I guess..." He did consider it for a few more moments - unexpectedly shy to even take off his shirt, even though what was straining his pants was more of an issue - before chuckling and stripping off his own shirt.

He wasn't a perfect example of musculature - if you asked him, he'd cite periodic exercise and good genes. His arms were proportional yet thick; his shoulders, nicely broad, and his chest and pecs, pleasantly thick. His abs were not quite defined - softer, paunchier, somewhat overpowered by fat. But it came together well - at least, in Pembe's opinion. He was definitely - even if you somehow made one of similar proportions to the other - less muscular than Potemkin, however. He did have a soft coating of hair, however - light, but not unattractive.

He gently tossed his shirt in as well, doing his best to smile. "My stuff's back over where I set it all down - should probably get the rest of my laundry out." He huffed, attempting to break himself out of his awkwardness (and very, very fierce attraction), "Did you want to help out with getting it all washed? I mean... I can handle it, up until I'd need an iron..." He sounded a touch unsure - he wasn't that confident, really. Plus, he wasn't sure how well he could deal with. Shirtless Potemkin. For an extended period. It was already taking all of his strength to consider that without further considering it. Shirtless Potemkin was dangerous for Pembe's concentration.

(He was already making a point to either try and look at Potemkin's face, the hamper, or at the very least, not Potemkin's chest, for that purpose.)

He wasn't quite sure how bulky or annoying Potemkin's masses of cloth you might call 'clothing' could get after a good wash... He had the feeling they could be like bedsheets - either wonderfully easy and compressed... or awfully cumbersome to try and carry.

[dreadnaughtfist]

For the first time in front of Pembe, Potemkin was caught off guard. Right before his eyes there was now very definite proof that the giant man was indeed capable of expression; in fact, he's outright animated in how his lip flipped downward and his brow drooped. His entire being seemed to shrink a little, which was at least a little deliberate as he then started to apologize.

"I'm sorry, I... forgot that these items are heavy. I'll take the hamper to where you need."

Potemkin bent over, firmly being able to hold both opposite sides of the basket in his two hands, and lifted the entire thing with no real strain at all. The weight wasn't nearly enough to test those muscles of his on display. Potemkin walked off down to hallway, to where Pembe was staying.

[papapink]

Pembe almost immediately looked sad as well - he wanted to make the big man smile, and seeing him frown just made Pembe mirror it. He reached out, gently touching Potemkin's hand - smiling, though it just barely reached his eyes.

"Hey, it's okay." He tried to sound reassuring, "I'm sure I could carry 'em if I tried hard enough. I just need to grab my stuff, too, and all..." He gave Potemkin's hand a gentle pat, "You're fine."

He took a few more seconds before drawing his hand back, face still red - even though his immediate urge to console the bigger man had taken over, once that had withdrawn, he was left touching the man he was finding he wanted to touch for a variety of reasons - the more he interacted with him, the more reasons his brain produced.

(The latest one that was definitely not motivated by pure emotions was 'consoling hug'. Pembe might have tried it, if he thought it was appropriate. And not likely to have him grab Potemkin's ass or linger too long.)

He ended up leading the way to where he was staying - which was basically just Potemkin's couch. If he hadn't previously owned one... well. He did now. (Pembe found the costs of a couch much less exorbitant than the costs of a bed.) A bedroom might've worked better, rather than occupying the living room-y area, but Potemkin's place wasn't exactly a two-bedroom... and the idea of sharing a bed with Potemkin, while appealing to Pembe, was something he understood was awkward. Pembe went for his clothes - albeit Gren was resting on top of them, curled up. He gently patted his cat, attempting to shoo the little guy - albeit Gren decided this was a prompt to climb directly onto Pembe.

A bit of hissing from Pembe (cat claws hurt) and he had a little cat curled up around his neck. Pembe looked to Potemkin and smiled, sheepishly, and shrugged. He didn't really know what to say - his cat was his cat, and Gren was fearless and prone to curling on people's shoulders like some sort of fluffy boa.

He was quick to bundle up his clothes and put them in the hamper, however - even with Gren on his shoulders, he was practiced at quickly pulling out hangars and settling them all in with the pile of Potemkin's clothing.

"Wanna lead the way to where you have your washer?" He gave the other man as good a smile as he could, considering tiny cat claws in his flesh (even though he'd grown used to them). He felt a bit sheepish, leaving Gren as he was, so he added on, with a chuckle: "I'll put Gren down before we start drying and ironing, so they don't get fresh cat hair on 'em."

[dreadnaughtfist]

Potemkin, still with a pathetic look on his face, silently watched Pembe pat his hand. When he looked up to see Pembe's face, it was now undeniable that something about this situation was disrupting him, the redness of his face visible to anyone. Potemkin might have guessed it was embarrassment at personal contact, but that didn't seem in-character when he had been nothing but outgoing so far.

But he moved on, taking it as an acceptance of his apology nonetheless. The sight of the cat immediately started to melt Potemkin's heart again. He would have reached out to it and tried to gingerly pet it, with his massive hands, if both weren't currently occupied with holding the hamper.

"I don't mind if your cat follows us," Potemkin gave an understatement. They move together as three to small, functional laundry room (though the machines themselves looked very advanced and efficient, in preparation for how much cloth they needed to go through.) Potemkin dropped the hamper on the floor, which slightly bounced from the impact.

"If you don't need anything else, I should leave to give you room."

[papapink]

Pembe wasn't very good at hiding it - although how he was either setting himself to looking at Potemkin's face or anywhere other than the man's chest might have been an indicator, if Potemkin was particularly perceptive to other men thirsting over him. Still, Pembe calmed himself some when he set everything in the hamper - giving Potemkin a little smile, more sure of himself, when he noticed how Potemkin melted - even just a bit - at the appearance of Gren.

(He could easily tell Potemkin was understating his feelings on Gren's presence.)

He let Potemkin lead the way, settling in the small room - it was just big enough for Potemkin to move freely, which meant that the two of them in it was a bit close. (And that Pembe couldn't quite avoid seeing Potemkin's chest anymore, so he focused on his face instead.)

"You don't have to leave," He offered, even though he was fairly confident it was a good solution, "I mean..." And there was a good excuse - "Gren could use someone to look after him while I start up the machine, and I wouldn't mind having someone to talk to while I do it..."

Trying to talk to Potemkin was hard, but he was fairly confident the little cat tucked around his neck was like catnip to the other man. Maybe Gren could help him loosen up a bit? Or at least find a common ground to talk about?

[dreadnaughtfist]

Potemkin, by simple chance of how his life turned out, did not in fact have much experience with dealing with someone who was attracted to him. It was actually more like "zero" experience, so he didn't even recognize what he's looking at. And he did pick up on something; Potemkin's slowness does not go to waste, and he was a very perceptive person. Potemkin ran through his mind what he had just done, and noticed Pembe's twitchy gaze seemed to coincide with him dropping his clothes in the hamper. If he had inadvertently made his guest uncomfortable, Potemkin felt remorse hit him at once.

Because of that he had more reasons to excuse himself than just letting Pembe do his job, but that argument shot him straight through his heart. He's going to trust that Pembe wants his company after all.

Potemkin sat himself cross-legged on the floor, the little bowl of his legs looking undersized compared to the rest of his body. But it was large enough to be an inviting bed for Gren, and Potemkin founds the cat crawling up, and soon on, to him. "I can do that," Potemkin affirms Pembe's idea as he dangles one of his fingers above Gren, for the cat to paw at. "So I take it you prefer some company to silence."

[papapink]

Pembe was usually pretty good at hiding his attraction - it was the sheer impressive nature of Potemkin's muscles (and his entire body, really) that had seized Pembe's faculties. Even considering that he knew he wasn't doing a good job, he had had a hard time looking away. When he was given an opportunity to not look at Potemkin and focus on loading in the clothing... he managed to calm himself considerably.

It was a good thing Potemkin had stayed - if he'd insisted on leaving, Pembe would likely have felt worse for it. But he smiled at Potemkin's agreement, watching as Gren (with just a little bit of prompting from Pembe, to get him to move from his comfortable space on the man's neck) settled into Potemkin's lap.

"Yeah," He offered, chuckling. "I like having someone to talk to, at least." He started on pulling out clothes from the hamper, settling them into the machine. "You're the same, I hope? I mean, I don't wanna insist you hang out with me if you'd rather be alone." He looked back, offering an actual smile - focusing on Gren and Potemkin's face, now, and insistently shoving away those thirsty, thirsty thoughts so he could actually look at Potemkin without turning several shades of red or feeling the need to look at anything other than him.

Those thoughts could come later. Like when he was alone.

[dreadnaughtfist]

"I don't mind solitude," Potemkin said while wholly focused on trying to get Gren to play with his finger (he was unsuccessful initially, but it's his hope that this could change with persistence. Gren didn't seem interested enough the the dangling digit to give up a comfortable resting spot). "It's how I spent most of my time.

But if I'm going to invite change into my life, then I should try out what's different," Potemkin took on a bit of gravity, even as he also smiled while playing with a cat. But why would he have agreed to this, if he did not care for Pembe's life? He was interested in what could come of this experience as they lived together.

[papapink]

Pembe chuckled at Potemkin's comment - and his dedication to Gren. He nodded at Potemkin's assertion - smiling a bit, inexplicably touched. "I couldn't agree more. Trying out new stuff's how we grow, and all." He finished loading the clothes he'd already grabbed, before turning around - squatting down, now closer to eye-level with Potemkin.

"If you want to play with him, you gotta rile him up a little bit." He reached in, movements careful but swift: he prodded Gren's cheek, and earned the cat wriggling onto his back to swat at the offending finger. Pembe danced his finger around for a few seconds, smiling at Gren's attempts to capture the clearly offensive digit, before gently booping Gren's nose and standing back up. "He'll only go chasing after your finger if you mess with him. He'll get a little bitey if you let him catch it, though..." He smiled, before turning back to loading the washer - just about finished loading it. Nicely, it seemed to be enough to put in as a single load; Pembe's clothes weren't quite enough to make him need two loads, considering the size of the washer.

Given, Pembe also made a point to compact down the clothes - he didn't believe in "overfilling" a washer - and all, but it was still a pretty nice fit. In his opinion.

[dreadnaughtfist]

Potemkin looks up from staring at his own lap, to meet Pembe's face right in front of him. When Potemkin is sitting down like this, the two are eye level for the first time. It's only for a brief moment before Pembe returns to the laundry machines, but the shock lingers with Potemkin.

That's a sign that they communicating better, right? Potemkin takes that as a good thing and let's both of them turn back to their respective businesses.

"Thank you. I wouldn't be very good at taking care of Gren if I continued failing to get his attention."

[papapink]

If Pembe noticed Potemkin's shock, he kept it to himself - when their eyes met, he offered Potemkin a smile before standing back up and going back to his work. It probably meant they were communicating better. He hoped so, anyway.

"Heh, he'll probably be okay either way - laps keep him just as preoccupied as playing." He looked back, chuckling - "It just seemed like you wanted to play with him." He finished up loading the washer - reaching over and hunting for detergent in whatever storage spaces were nearby. It was sort of necessary before he called it finished.

[dreadnaughtfist]

Potemkin looked up to that commented dumbfounded. It was as if he had been caught at something. To think he thought he left no outward clue, and then Pembe cut to the truth casually like Potemkin had erected nothing.

He got over his shock soon though, and Potemkin watched Pembe's hand move across the cabinets. It's a sparse laundry room, and Pembe would have found everything he needed just with time and groping, but Potemkin couldn't hold back his need to help out for long, even when watching the man who was supposed to do his chores in front of him. Or perhaps because.

"I keep the soap to the up and right," Potemkin referred to the position Pembe's hand was currently at.

[papapink]

In another life, Pembe was excellent at that kind of cutting through to the truth. And albeit he recognized the dumbfoundedness on Potemkin's face, he chuckled a little bit, turning back. Even if Potemkin was convinced he left no clue, he'd noticed the little things Potemkin didn't think to hide.

Expression was only one way you showed what you wanted. Pembe focused more on actions rather than words or faces. It worked in his favor.

He blinked at Potemkin's correction - leaning forward on the washer and leaning up a bit more and grabbing for the soap. He was fishing a bit blind - he couldn't quite see the shelf Potemkin referred to - but he chuckled as he went fishing for it (and, if Potemkin didn't decide to help, he'd get it after a minute or so).

"Ah, there it is. Thanks, didn't think it'd be hard to find, but I wasn't looking forward to searching those top shelves..."

[dreadnaughtfist]

Over the course of their time living together, Potemkin treated Pembe almost completely as a housemate, which was possibly what he had wanted all along. As he had acknowledged to Pembe, just incidentally in conversation, he was filling in for a missing experience, that of being surrounded by a lively household. Before this he mostly alternated between work and solitude, and he had never came home with the expectation for someone to be there. Although he had stepped in with trepidation from how odd and different it seemed on paper, the desire to help out a man in need pushing him forward just enough, after several months Potemkin could tentatively say he likes it.

But Pembe was still technically his hire. Potemkin still held the right to ask anything from him. Potemkin looked down to the clothing items he was carrying (the remaining pieces of what were meant to be his uniform tomorrow - a tie and a couple of suit pins), while calling out to wherever Pembe might be in the house.

"Pembe? I have want to ask you of something."

[papapink]

Pembe had taken well to the admission - but then again, being told a man you were particularly interested in liked having you around stuck in your mind. He didn't mind if Potemkin called it just a missing experience - he figured it was good enough that he called it lively, rather than, say, cramped. He'd taken to living with Potemkin just as well as the other man did - he was a hire and all, but he was still happy to live with the other man.

It helped that Potemkin's work meant Pembe had time to do his job before the other man ever got home, so he could still squeeze in chores and the like.

Still, he was laying on the couch with Gren (as he'd particularly not been interested in moving anywhere else - and Potemkin's bed was the only bed in the house, by his appraisal) when he was called for, and he shuffled into a sitting position, Gren settling into his lap as he called out from the living room:

"I'm over here! What's up?"

Today, he was in a pink sweater and a pair of khaki shorts. Potemkin likely knew by now the man was naturally quite warm, though the colder months that had come after the warmer ones meant he liked sweaters more than simple t-shirts.

[dreadnaughtfist]

When he saw him, Potemkin walked over to him, and slightly lifted the parcel in his hands to show it to Pembe. The dark tie was the largest subject but the pins stood out with their shininess, with the emblems of various government branches on their heads. They were tiny and easily lost even to a normal sized person, to Potemkin it was unmanageable. Oh and he did try; he probably would not disclose the number of hours spent in his attempts to anyone.

Potemkin paused to collect himself one last time before speaking. It's not that he feels any shame receiving help from Pembe, but he's simply shy about asking.

"I need to dress with these for the ceremony tomorrow. Assist me, and I'll make it so you don't have to do it more than once."

Potemkin still had the lingering hope of being able to learn from watching someone else do it, but he was considering taking the clothes off as they were after this and leaving the finished pins on for the next day.

[papapink]

Even if Potemkin refrained from disclosing the number of hours he tried, Pembe could imagine. He smiled up at Potemkin, kindly - a little chuckle passing through his lips. "Sure."

He took the parcel, gently setting the tie aside - just for now - before taking the pins, carefully pulling the clutch from the military-style pins. "They really should have given you magnetic ones," He noted, mostly to himself - the clasp that more formal and military pins traditionally used... were meant to be pinched. If Potemkin could actually manage it without losing the pin altogether, Pembe would've been surprised.

Once he'd properly started one up, he looked up at Potemkin - preparing himself as he had several times before, in other situations - before standing up (letting Gren hop onto the couch) and then leaning up a bit further so he could reach Potemkin's lapel, with one hand sliding between the lapel and fabric of the coat. It held the clutch as the other hand brought up the pin itself and carefully pushed it through. He caught the pin's end with the clutch, and then repeated that for the other pins.

He kept them evenly spaced; he was at least concerned about making sure Potemkin looked his best. And he did his very best to not be distracted by the slabs of muscle he could feel his hand laying against. His very, very best.

His face still flushed.

Once he was finished, though, he leaned back, crossing his arms and smiling up at Potemkin. "Y'know, you should just let me handle those, in the future. They're not good for the washer, and I don't think they're designed for you to mess with." He chuckled, not unkindly - he was using just about the same tone he'd used to declare he was handling all ironing from now on -- a mixture of concern and playfulness, as well as some amusement at the man's tenacity for trying to do things himself.

There was still the tie to attach, but he figured he'd wait on Potemkin's reply first - he'd picked the pins because they were easier. ... And they also didn't mean he had to get at Potemkin's neck, and no matter if it was Potemkin leaning down to accomodate, or him leaning up to try and properly tie it around the man who was 2 feet taller than him's neck... Pembe had a feeling it was better to start with the thing he was less likely to be distracted by.

[dreadnaughtfist]

Potemkin very possibly could have asked the agency to customize the bits of the uniform to his needs, but he couldn't bring himself to ask something so petty. His country had gave him everything, introduced him to his purpose, and started a whole new life which he could not have imagined before. He did not feel right to demand more.

So he felt something lifted from him when Pembe offered his aid in the future. Potemkin was a very still and attentive listener, even as Pembe surrounded his words with joking and laughter and he practically climbed him to get all the pins on. For some reason, Potemkin paid special attention to how it felt for Pembe to tug and pull slightly at his clothing. There was something caring about his fussing, like he was being groomed, and by the end the edges of Potemkin's mouth crooked up into a smile.

"That would be most appreciated," Potemkin said. He's not sure if Pembe was turning red because he found this so hilarious, or something else. He really should ask about that sometime. But there's the next task to move onto, and Potemkin addressed that first, bending at the waist to lower his neck by a few feet.