Damon Salvatore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
om_incubus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
om_main2015-11-21 10:26 pm
om_incubus) wrote in om_main2015-11-21 10:26 pm
Damon and Cereza, Backdated to November 21
Cereza finds work as a dancer, and Damon approves. Then they make plans for a booty call.
It turned out that it was, somewhat unsurprisingly, not that difficult to find burlesque dancers in a city like New York, once Cereza put her mind to tracking them down. Dancing around the subject of her age was a bit trickier, but she supposed she could deal with the bridge of someone becoming suspicious when she came to it.
As it was, she was feeling rather high on the endorphins of getting to dance properly again, which might have been why she found herself heading into Evolution, rather than in any direction towards back upstate. A bar with no drinking ages really was invaluable, as well as her little fake ID had done so far she wasn't about to try her luck for the second time in a day.
And then, of course, the was the company. She smiled as she spotted the proprietor himself and swept in his direction, long dark hair waving out behind her from the ponytail high on her head. "Darling," she called to get Damon's attention, making a show of settling herself onto a bar stool, "fetch me something celebratory, would you?"
Damon raised a brow in her direction. Cereza was a riot of light in a herd of cantankerous cattle. Literally. He wasn't used to seeing auras - mutant or human otherwise, but somehow, Cereza always seemed to bring a glow with her, and tonight it seemed even brighter than usual. He resisted the urge to shield his eyes and finished up with his customer before wandering her way, snagging a bottle of prosecco on his way. "Celebratory, huh?"
"I've found work," she said brightly as she shed her coat. "Well. They'll pay me, at least. I'm not sure how much work it actually is."
As he poured the prosecco and added a couple of halved strawberries, he listened with an upwards raised eyebrow. "So you've decided to become a model?"
"Modelling?" Cereza echoed with a laugh, letting her head fall back a bit with it. "Dear me, no. Much too limiting. I'm a dancer."
Damon looked her over for a moment before passing over the rossini. There was no way she was a ballet dancer, and even if she was, he was pretty sure they didn't get paid unless they were professional. That left theatre (probably not) and strippers. "You're pretty young for a dancer," he guessed.
She gave him a mischievous smile as she took the glass. "I won't tell if you won't."
"So where is this job of yours?" he asked instead of making that promise. Keeping promises wasn't something he enjoyed doing. On the other hand, he definitely wasn't going to get her fired. He was more likely to come offer a few pointers now and then. "And please tell me the outfits are magnificent."
"Depends on how you define bustiers, I suppose," Cereza said, still smiling as she took a sip of her drink. "This is quite good. My compliments to the house."
"Well, I try to keep things interesting," Damon drawled, lips twitching to one side. "And you're welcome. Are you going to invite me to your big debut?"
"Of course, if you like. But wouldn't you be busy on a weekend evening?" Cereza gestured briefly around them. "Running things here as you are."
"Pft. I can disappear for an hour," Damon snorted and waved a hand like it was no big deal. Besides, he trusted Lil to be able to handle things while he was gone. "I'm not chained to the place."
"That," Cereza said, her smile shifting to something much more intent, "is very good to know."
"Oh please, like you haven't been eying this since you walked in the door," Damon drawled.
"And what would this," she said, purposefully imitating his accent on the word, "be?"
Damon swept his hands downward, gesturing to his body with absolutely no shame and two upward raised eyebrows. "This. This eternal, soul-sucking, gorgeous stud of a man."
"Eternal and soul-sucking, hm?" One side of Cereza's mouth curved into a smirk. "That sounds quite dangerous."
"And you love it," Damon pointed out easily.
"Well love is probably a bit much," she said, affecting a thoughtful tone. "Won't deny that you're certainly not boring."
"Deny it all you want," he smiled, spreading his hands. "Deep down, you know the truth."
Cereza's smile sharpened, but it was still definitely teasing. "I very rarely deny myself anything," she said, tossing her hair back. "Life's too short for it."
"Now you're speaking my language," Damon hummed, watching her. "So what kind of show are you headlining? Does it have a theme?"
Oh, he was certainly a charmer. It meant he'd need to be watched, but it was at least good for a girl's ego. "No theme that I know of," Cereza said as she set her glass down, absently running her finger around the rim. "Unless you count burlesque, I suppose."
His eyebrows went up. "I would, indeed, count burlesque. In fact, I'm starting to get a better idea of why I can't take my eyes off of you."
"And I haven't even taken my clothes off yet," she said with an arch look. "You'll flatter me, caro mio."
"Oh good - my accent isn't clouding the issue," Damon taunted with a smirk.
Cereza let out a huff of a laugh. "Should it? It doesn't seem particularly strong to me."
"Aw, it's cute when you completely miss the point," he drawled, turning back to grab another customer a beer.
Both of her eyebrows lifted at his turned back. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's okay! You're hot. You don't have to be a genius," Damon told her with a smirk.
"Well, that certainly explains how you get on," Cereza tossed back and took a pointed sip of her drink.
"Oooh, she bites," his lips pulled up, eyes glinting. "I've always loved that in a woman."
"Well if you wanted that," she said over the rim of her glass, "then you should have just asked."
"Generally I'm the one that does the biting," Damon hummed. "But I think we could come to some sort of agreement..."
"I do like to give as I get," Cereza said with a hint of a smirk. "Something to keep in mind."
"The bar closes at two," Damon told her, one eyebrow arched up.
She matched the expression. "Is that a warning or an invitation?"
Pale, ice-blue eyes glinted. "Both."
"Well," Cereza said and downed the rest of her drink, "I suppose you'll have to be particularly entertaining to keep me here until then."
It turned out that it was, somewhat unsurprisingly, not that difficult to find burlesque dancers in a city like New York, once Cereza put her mind to tracking them down. Dancing around the subject of her age was a bit trickier, but she supposed she could deal with the bridge of someone becoming suspicious when she came to it.
As it was, she was feeling rather high on the endorphins of getting to dance properly again, which might have been why she found herself heading into Evolution, rather than in any direction towards back upstate. A bar with no drinking ages really was invaluable, as well as her little fake ID had done so far she wasn't about to try her luck for the second time in a day.
And then, of course, the was the company. She smiled as she spotted the proprietor himself and swept in his direction, long dark hair waving out behind her from the ponytail high on her head. "Darling," she called to get Damon's attention, making a show of settling herself onto a bar stool, "fetch me something celebratory, would you?"
Damon raised a brow in her direction. Cereza was a riot of light in a herd of cantankerous cattle. Literally. He wasn't used to seeing auras - mutant or human otherwise, but somehow, Cereza always seemed to bring a glow with her, and tonight it seemed even brighter than usual. He resisted the urge to shield his eyes and finished up with his customer before wandering her way, snagging a bottle of prosecco on his way. "Celebratory, huh?"
"I've found work," she said brightly as she shed her coat. "Well. They'll pay me, at least. I'm not sure how much work it actually is."
As he poured the prosecco and added a couple of halved strawberries, he listened with an upwards raised eyebrow. "So you've decided to become a model?"
"Modelling?" Cereza echoed with a laugh, letting her head fall back a bit with it. "Dear me, no. Much too limiting. I'm a dancer."
Damon looked her over for a moment before passing over the rossini. There was no way she was a ballet dancer, and even if she was, he was pretty sure they didn't get paid unless they were professional. That left theatre (probably not) and strippers. "You're pretty young for a dancer," he guessed.
She gave him a mischievous smile as she took the glass. "I won't tell if you won't."
"So where is this job of yours?" he asked instead of making that promise. Keeping promises wasn't something he enjoyed doing. On the other hand, he definitely wasn't going to get her fired. He was more likely to come offer a few pointers now and then. "And please tell me the outfits are magnificent."
"Depends on how you define bustiers, I suppose," Cereza said, still smiling as she took a sip of her drink. "This is quite good. My compliments to the house."
"Well, I try to keep things interesting," Damon drawled, lips twitching to one side. "And you're welcome. Are you going to invite me to your big debut?"
"Of course, if you like. But wouldn't you be busy on a weekend evening?" Cereza gestured briefly around them. "Running things here as you are."
"Pft. I can disappear for an hour," Damon snorted and waved a hand like it was no big deal. Besides, he trusted Lil to be able to handle things while he was gone. "I'm not chained to the place."
"That," Cereza said, her smile shifting to something much more intent, "is very good to know."
"Oh please, like you haven't been eying this since you walked in the door," Damon drawled.
"And what would this," she said, purposefully imitating his accent on the word, "be?"
Damon swept his hands downward, gesturing to his body with absolutely no shame and two upward raised eyebrows. "This. This eternal, soul-sucking, gorgeous stud of a man."
"Eternal and soul-sucking, hm?" One side of Cereza's mouth curved into a smirk. "That sounds quite dangerous."
"And you love it," Damon pointed out easily.
"Well love is probably a bit much," she said, affecting a thoughtful tone. "Won't deny that you're certainly not boring."
"Deny it all you want," he smiled, spreading his hands. "Deep down, you know the truth."
Cereza's smile sharpened, but it was still definitely teasing. "I very rarely deny myself anything," she said, tossing her hair back. "Life's too short for it."
"Now you're speaking my language," Damon hummed, watching her. "So what kind of show are you headlining? Does it have a theme?"
Oh, he was certainly a charmer. It meant he'd need to be watched, but it was at least good for a girl's ego. "No theme that I know of," Cereza said as she set her glass down, absently running her finger around the rim. "Unless you count burlesque, I suppose."
His eyebrows went up. "I would, indeed, count burlesque. In fact, I'm starting to get a better idea of why I can't take my eyes off of you."
"And I haven't even taken my clothes off yet," she said with an arch look. "You'll flatter me, caro mio."
"Oh good - my accent isn't clouding the issue," Damon taunted with a smirk.
Cereza let out a huff of a laugh. "Should it? It doesn't seem particularly strong to me."
"Aw, it's cute when you completely miss the point," he drawled, turning back to grab another customer a beer.
Both of her eyebrows lifted at his turned back. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's okay! You're hot. You don't have to be a genius," Damon told her with a smirk.
"Well, that certainly explains how you get on," Cereza tossed back and took a pointed sip of her drink.
"Oooh, she bites," his lips pulled up, eyes glinting. "I've always loved that in a woman."
"Well if you wanted that," she said over the rim of her glass, "then you should have just asked."
"Generally I'm the one that does the biting," Damon hummed. "But I think we could come to some sort of agreement..."
"I do like to give as I get," Cereza said with a hint of a smirk. "Something to keep in mind."
"The bar closes at two," Damon told her, one eyebrow arched up.
She matched the expression. "Is that a warning or an invitation?"
Pale, ice-blue eyes glinted. "Both."
"Well," Cereza said and downed the rest of her drink, "I suppose you'll have to be particularly entertaining to keep me here until then."