Seduced by song (marcus) - Dima's Appartment

Once they made their way off the beach, Dima flagged a cab and smiled.  "I know a place we can go." He offered.  

His leg just brushing against Marcus's, "Would you like to see my workshop?"

Marcus smiles some up at Dima "That would be great Dima" he says, visibly tense, but making a good show as nonchalance. In his hand, he holds the violin case gently, backpack slung over his shoulder. He pauses, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he regards the giant man "What family are you with if I can ask." There was a degree of hesitance in his voice as he asked this, as though worried he might be stepping out of line.

Dima's eyes drift up to the driver and then back to Marcus, smiling his hand brushes, his shoulder as he leans in close to marcus Dima's large hand braced against the back seat. He beard just brushing against his cheek, his low baritone whispers across his flesh and into his ear. "Only if I may have yours." He pulls away with a smile. Eyes asking what Marcus wants to share.

Marcus shivers gently at the whispered breath against his neck, dipping a quiet nod. "You can have mine when we get to your workshop." He tilts his head to the side, smooth skin dragging slowly up the bearded man while his hand slides down to Dima's inner theigh, content to simply rest there for the moment. "Suppose some discretion should be maintained" he adds softly, his voice taking on intimate undertones as he addresses Dima.

"I would like that," he said with a hint if a devilish smile eyes glancing down to the hand on his thigh. Then back up to look into the other Mans eyes. He held his gaze for a moment not speaking, just watching Marcus as the cab drove onward.

Marcus smiles faintly, allowing his green eyes to rake over Dima's face, his neck, his stomach, his hands. It's a slow, visual examination before his free hand moves to Dima's stomach, trailing languidly over the toned, shirt-covered, muscular flesh. "You're so handsome" he whispers softly, leaning in to nuzzle the giant's neck.

"There is more in this world than that," he sighed as he arched ever so slightly into Marcus's touch. A shiver moved through him but his eyes stayed open trained upon this young man next to him in the backseat of the cab. Maybe he was being modest, maybe he really felt that way, with the way he was smiling at Marcus it was hard to tell.

"Do you play all instruments like that? With caressing fingers, stroking the strings like a lovers flesh, cradled to you in passion?" he asked with a sinners smile. His own hand reached out to brush down the side of Marcus's face a gentle brushing of flesh against flesh where Marcus pressed against the side of his neck. A low rumble of longing can just be heard, Dima's other hand moves to his shoulder pulling him in closer pressing them against one another in the backseat of the cab. Tracing across his collar bone his fingers catch just under Marcus's chin lifting it so that he might look into his eyes. Dima's eyes smolder, as he lowers his face, his lips hover maybe an inch from Marcus's asking his permission.

"Only the ones worth playing" he whispers, leaning forward the fill that last inch of space with his lips. His hand lifts from Dima's stomach to cup the handsome mans cheek, smooth finger trailing along his chiseled jaw line while his lips roam languidly over the other mans. The cab driver looks back in surprise and begins letting the car drift to the left a bit. He snaps to, jerking the wheel back in place and keeps his eyes glued to the road. Marcus chuckles softly against Dima's lips.

Dima's lips press firmly back against Marcus's soft lips, his hands roam down the other mans back as his kiss while full of desire is downright chaste as he never once parts his lips to try and take their kiss deeper. The urge is there, but he resists, and as they swerve slightly and Marcus chuckles Dima pulls away from him with a smile all for Marcus. Desire flared through his eyes, but he has patience it would seem, "All in due time..." he whispered his fingers reach up to trace Marcus's lower lip.

The cab pulled to a stop before an apartment building.

Marcus drops the man a hundred, already beginning to exit the cab and offers one to Dima. He's excited at the prospect, and is making no real effort to hide it, but likewise, it's easy to see how nervous he is. He peers down at Dima while seated within the cab and offers a quiet, shy smile again, green eyes lingering on the rugged appearance of the man.

Dima unfolds from the backseat of the cab, quickly making it so that he is the one looking down on Marcus. Reaching back inside he makes sure to grab his guitar. Then closes the door to the cab and walks forward past Marcus leading him into the apartment complex. "A man needs his private space to think to work, this place is just mine." he said with a happy sigh. Leading him up a flight of stairs and to an apartment on the third floor, the top floor. The building looks to be well maintained, but isn't one of the newer flasher buildings. Reaching into his jeans he retrieves his keys and opens the door, holding it open he gestures for Marcus to go ahead and enter.

Marcus looks around the room appreciatively, noting the safety precautions that Dima has placed. He moves towards a table and sets down his violin case and pack, turning back to face Dima. "Lovely place you have here Dima. Wanna give me the nickle tour" he asks playfully, arching an eyebrow with a faint grin on his face.

He shrugged, and began moving about the furnished apartment, "Living room..." he said pointing at a decent sized room that instead of looking like a living room looked more like a workshop on crack. Scattered over one long work bench and table were bits of wood and metal spokes, pieces of glass and a variety of tools for working with metal, glass, wood and the like. It might take a moment but eventually he would figure out that it was a production center for music boxes.

Marcus eyes the room for a few minutes, sharp eyes taking in various details before settling on a completed box. His head tilts to the side as he takes a few steps further into the living room, eyes fixed on the small mechanical device. "Is that...." he begins, but trails away as though uncertain if he should proceed. "Is that a Lazarovich Music Box?" he asks, crouching down next to the coffee table to get a better look.

Dima arches a brow but looks some what pleased, "Maybe... you could always pick it up and see if it is. They put a makers mark on the bottom.. VL I think..." he looked like highly amused.

Reaching out carefully, Marcus lifts the box and turns it over in his hand, smiling as he spots the Makers Mark "It is!" he exclaims, grinning back at Dima. "I used to have one of these when I was a little..." he trails away, biting his lower lip "A little kid. My parents found it in Italy when they were visiting there for their twentieth wedding aniversary. Oh man, I thought I'd never see one again. Is there still the hidden compartment down....here..." Marcus delicately twists his thumb and index finger in a complicated gesture and sure enough, out pops a small compartment on the side of the machine "Ahhh, there is. I knew it. My father didn't know about these. I kept all my most valued items inside." He sighs wistfully, smiling down at the music box.

This box looks brand new. Dima watches his hands move and open the compartment, and he shakes his head and laughs softly.

"I am glad to see you like it... would you like it?" he asked watching Marcus's fingers move over the box with reverence. His smile that of modest pride.

He looks embarressed at the offer, shaking his head "Oh no. I couldn't. Those are prized boxes and worth a small fortune to some collectors. You should keep it and maybe hold onto it for fifty years and then sell it." He pauses, taking another long look around the room, then down to the music box in his hand, then once more sweeps the various components with his eyes. A small gasp escapes his lips as he swings his green eyes back to rest on Dima. "Holy crap..." he sets the music box down gently. "Wow. Really? You're Vladimir Lazorovich?"

Dima now looks embarrassed, and he clears his throat, "That is my name, and those are my creations." he replied, "I would be delighted if you would take that one... a gift." he said picking up the box Marcus had put down and holding it out for him to take once again. "Please, it would give me pleasure to see one enjoy it so." he smiled once more.

This close, Marcus can't help but crane his neck upwards at the giant man, biting his lower lip in a moment of indecision. Finally, he reaches out and gently takes the offered music box and smiles up at him. He reaches out a hand and places it lightly against Dima's stomach "This means alot to me Dima. THank you so much" he says quietly, as his fingers curl against the sculpted flesh. With a final glance down at the small machine, Marcus sets it down again but only to free his hand which lifts to join the first, fingertips slowly working the buttons on his shirt open.

Dima allows Marcus to slowly unbutton his shirt, his heated gaze watching as Marcus does so. As the last button is undone revealing the smooth muscled expanse of his chest and torso Dima takes a step back away from Marcus... a teasing step.

"Now you." he said shrugging the shirt from his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor.

Marcus' breath would have caught, had needed to breath, when his eyes drank in the perfectly formed body as it is presented. With each inch of flesh that reveals itself, Marcus' fingers trails lightly over the skin, marveling at it's perfection. A faint smile touches his lips as Dima steps back, his hands already reaching up to undo the first button at his neck line. Hardly the adonis that Dima is proving to be, Marcus' own musculature is sleek and fitting to his body, making him look almost svelte. His stomach clenches and unclenches, muscles rippling with the gesture, while posing for Dima with a light grin on his lips.

Dima reaches out then allowing his fingers to trace a straight line from just below Marcus's throat down to the tops of his pants. His tongue then flicks out over his lips moistening them just slightly. And his hand falls away.

"Shall we continue the tour?" he asked his baritone husky and down right seductive. His eyes rove over Marcus's flesh with abandon the searing heat of his desire like a physical caress. Dancing just along his skin like a tongue of flame.

The shirt sliding to the floor, Marcus nods slowly, never taking his eyes off of Dima. "I think it's time we explored other areas of the apartment" he says quietly, intimate in the stillness of the room.

"Kitchen.." he said absently walking past with out so much as a glance to the unused room. "Bath..." he said gesturing to the bathroom that had a large antique claw foot tub the kind that would be big enough for even Dima. Then his feet slowed down as he turned back to face Marcus, and he slowly backed up through the door to the master bedroom. The floor was covered with a thick plush white area rug, the king size bed had white gauzy hangings, and mountains of white pillows on a snow white comforter that looked ridiculously soft. The only color in the room was the ceiling, which was painted sky blue with big puffy white clouds.

Stepping with in he smiled, "The bedroom."