Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt hangs untucked above them, long sleeved and fastened with a row of small, black stone buttons. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops.
He's a big guy -- that's the first impression this man gives. Standing at an even six feet, his build is certainly sturdy, with broad shoulders and beefy arms. There isn't a scrap of fat on him either, and the calloused hands look like they've seen their share of hard work. The second impression he gives is one of youth. His clean-shaven face has a boyish cast, slightly round but with a strong jaw and squarish chin. It's a strange mix of lingering adolescence and budding maturity. His eyes are pale blue, clear and bright, expressive in a way that hints at soulfulness, though he often looks somewhat preoccupied. A tousled crop of blond hair frames his face, windblown and sun-bleached in an array of shades that could only come from nature: the color of honey and wheat sheaves streaked with gold.
The curtains of the room are designed to keep the sun out, to allow the occupant to sleep during the day if need be. Unfortunately, they aren't entirely closed, and a shaft of sunlight is falling right across the pillows of the bed, directly over the current set of occupants' eyes. It's the only sign that time has passed since they fell asleep.
Martin stirs first, turning over so that his back is to the window, with a mumbled complaint. It isn't a very impressive room, but it has all the comforts one might desire when taking respite from traveling the road. The bed is big enough for both men if they cuddle close. The mattress is down, the blankets warm. There is a pair of stuffed chairs in one corner arranged around a small wooden table, and an alcove that isn't exactly a kitchen, but does have counter space, a coal-burning stove, and a basin with a mirror for washing. Trunks and crates abound, a clutter of knickknacks here and there show evidence of an untidy but reasonably content mind. Martin's arm snakes out to capture Ren around the waist, tugging him closer.
Serendipity displays no aversion to the cuddling close, and the ease with which Martin can pull him in even closer might lead one to suspect that, despite his stillness and the fact that his eyes are even still closed, he may have been technically awake for some period of time. He snuggles more under his own power at the prompting, and nuzzles in blindly to kiss the side of Martin's neck.
Martin searches out the source of this kissing business and response in kind, dragging Ren into a sleepy liplock that ends with him turning onto his back and drawing the smaller man with to lay atop him, both strong arms sliding around Ren's waist. Martin's eyes drift open slowly as the kiss dwindles, and he lets his head drop back with a content sigh. "Mornin'."
Serendipity smiles drowsily, eyes half-open, and rests an arm across Martin's chest, his chin on his wrist. The other hand wanders and explores lazily along the larger man's upper body. "...mornin'," he murmurs in reply, and shifts his hips slightly, prodding the blond with tangible support for his next remark, "...nice t' see you, han'some. We got things t'do t'day?"
The infamous morning missi-- er. Martin's happy to see Ren too. Shaking his head, he lets his hands play along the fellow's back and hips, over his rump, lazily wandering. "Nah. That's the best part about trading without a company. We don't got to do anything except what we want. There's some stuff I should do, but it can wait."
Serendipity rests his hand on Martin's arm, feeling the muscles move under his fingers, and grins a little, stretching his neck to give the trader another kiss, this one more awake. "'m a big fanna not doin' anything 'cept what I want," he admits, and licks along a collarbone. "So what d'you think we oughta put on our agenda?"
Martin murmurs a low sound, like a growl in its deep resonance within his chest, but utterly without malice. His arms tighten around Ren briefly as he says, "I can think of a few things. And then, after that, maybe a bath, some breakfast, and to make a few connections."
Serendipity grins, and nips at the moistened skin, letting his free hand find and molest a nipple before it slides up to toy rather tenderly with a lock of blond hair. "...sounds like a plan t' me. New connections, or meetin' up with folks you already deal with?"
Martin's breath catches, and he shivers, laughing softly. Ren is gently but firmly rearranged to lay beside Martin, while Martin turns to his side, one arm draped lazily over the smaller man. "You," he accuses, "are making it impossible to think. Folks I already deal with, mostly. There are shopkeepers here in town that take most of my goods, some for resale, others for distribution. There are a few places I go first before hitting the shops. It's all pretty boring stuff."
"But I =like= not-thinkin'," Ren protests mildly, and goes back to cuddling, with only the occasional distracting little grope. "...an' hey, maybe I can liven it up, then. Lemme think about it." This sounds far to innocent to bode well.
Martin regards Ren as sternly as one can with sleep rumpled hair, a boyish countenance, and in the midst of snuggling. "I expect you to behave at least some of the places," he says gravely. "For their residents, if not for myself."
"Not likely for them," Ren counters, then adds, "...but I s'pose maybe for =you=. Wouldn't wanna hurt your business 'n' reputation 'n' all." Something occurs to him, and he grins. "Bet they all think of you as such a nice boy, it'll be bad enough for that just havin' me around."
Martin clucks his tongue and replies mildly, "I try not to do anything I'd be ashamed of later." He tucks back a lock of Ren's hair, leaning down to kiss his forehead sweetly. "I have no intention of hiding you away and pretending you don't exist. It's just that there are a few places we're going today where nudity would probably not lend the right impression."
"Or anyone?" Serendipity teases, and cuddles in closer, with a little sigh. "A'ight, no nudity. Promise. An' I'll try t' be good. Well. I'll try t' be well-behaved, anyway. I'm always =good=." He grins, and quirks a brow suggestively. "So what kinda places are those?"
Martin shakes his head wryly and delivers another kiss to Ren's brow. "I'd like to think of this as more than 'doing'," he comments as his hand slides along Ren's side, resting on the curve of his hip. "There's a poorhouse down by the riverdock," he replies. "And a halfway house a little ways out of town, kind of a workhouse for teens with nowhere to go. They don't get much help, so any little bit, you know?"
Serendipity smiles crookedly at the kiss, and tips his forehead against Martin's shoulder. "Yeah, 's more'n that. Though, that part? We c'n keep it..." He slides a hand over the trader's chest, and lower, slowly doing his part to make sure he doesn't forget about the first order of the day's business. "Nicea you, t' help them," he remarks, thoughtfully.
Martin nuzzles Ren's hair, inhaling the scent of it lustily, and then exhaling a low, content sigh that causes him to relax utterly. Here is a man deeply in love with comfort. "Mmm, just don't cheapen yourself, not even in jest." Another kiss, and he adds in a whisper, "I don't waste time on trash." And another kiss. Then, "Someone's got to. Help, I mean."
Serendipity lifts his head again and tilts it, studying Martin almost quizzically for a few seconds, silent, though there's definitely something going on behind the darkness of his eyes. He slides both hands up the blond's chest to his cheeks, and pulls him closer, leaning in to give him a very long, languid, and appreciative kiss. It starts out tender, but keeps going.
Martin utters a muffled sound of mild surprise, but he's quick to go with it, fingers curling through Ren's hair as he returns the kiss, sweetly at first, but as it keeps going, well, so does he. Apparently, his business with the poorhouses isn't all that urgent, because he doesn't seem inclined to stop going any time soon.